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byemambo · 9 months ago

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4Minutes EP. 8 - My Takeaways + Final Thoughts

Man, it still really hasn't hit me that the series is officially over. What a ride we were on for the past two months, and I can't wait to see what's next for everyone involved in this production. In terms of this last post, I think I'm just going to let my train of thought ride out without giving too much focus on the meta within the series, but focusing more on the themes and morals we learned from this series.

Maladaptive Daydreaming: Tyme's Wake Up Call

According to Jes and Bible's thoughts leading up to the final release of the episode, both of then alluded that this episode would wrap up most loose ends in each character and their challenges leading up to each of their own conclusions. What I found very significant in Tyme's NDE (which I highlighted my own interpretation of TymeGreat's respective timelines in my episode 6 takeaways), is this warmth and comfort we were able to visually experience in majority of his interactions and projected scenarios going on in his own head. Although he had moments of awareness in the limbo he's experiencing from the standard visual representation of the 4 minutes of consciousness through the clocks/watches, it seemed like Tyme's deluded life was more straightforward and not prone to time jumps like Great was experiencing, possibly due to Tyme walking down the path by not opening his mother's diary.

In comparison to Great's NDE, there weren't as many violent redirects or jumps by making a poor decision, seemingly showing us that Tyme is making better decisions and achieving their respective results, majority of them sharing the same values of communication, intentionality, optimism, and a natural desire for love and adoration. For someone who grew up with no ties to his parents and only having his grandmother become the primary person to express love and affection for (excluding Nutcha since they ended their relationship on good terms and remain connected through their professionalism and a true desire for them to achieve better outcomes on their own paths), Great becomes evidently another person he carries a a deep and meaningful connection with outside of his family and Den.

In comparison to the person he is in the actual timeline, this Tyme is soft, understanding, high achieving and personal to those around him, naturally translating to a soft and tender love and desire he has for Great. We see this by the natural warm lighting in comparison to the more dim and gritty lighting in the previous episodes when we're observing Great and Tyme's actual timelines. The juxtaposition between the person his subconscious wishes to be versus the person he became from a crossroad as simple and out of the blue as discovering the diary, the characteristics are drastically different. The real Tyme is impersonal, quick to judgment, conniving, which leads him to his demise after endangering the life of Nan by involving her in his scheme, to sacrificing Great's reputation in order to harm his family, which were not the original people who drove his parents to their death and were mistakenly targeted because he misinterpreted the details left behind in his mother's diary. This hate driven act ultimately kills his grandmother as well, the only person he truly wishes to keep out of danger and harm's way.

The moment of realization when he hears Den's voice making attempts to resurrect Tyme was incredibly heart wrenching for me as someone who (although it was not even close to being as violent as what Den went through in that moment of crisis) experienced that pain of a loved one withering away right in front of your eyes at the hands of death. The small detail of Den relaying his research to Tyme after he expressed his guilt for (indirectly/directly) contributing to the Great's critical state seemingly remained in the back of Tyme's mind, but as most people would, his emotions overcome his ability to rationalize the next steps to take while he's basking in his purgatory disgusted as paradise. I know many people were off put by the potential (depending on how deeply you'd want to consider the logistics of the themes in this series) plot hole where Tyme is able to transcend and awaken Great from his 4 minutes as we didn't physically see Great awaken from his comatose state. Personally, it doesn't bother me since I had really analyzed this series from more of its psychological thriller elements rather than fixating on the sci fi alone: I interpreted this moment where the reality of fear in regret kicks in for Tyme and that the inevitable of death is nearing, Den becoming the voice of reason and empowering Tyme to fight for his life.

However along with his own battle, his desire for Great to escape the hands of death is just as strong, especially when you consider all that he knows about the truth behind the death of his parents and the role Great played in the grand scheme of things. For all we know, the only person who knows about Great's involvement in Dome's death at this point in the story is Tonkla, Title and his father who tries to wipe the evidence from the dashcam recording. For all we know: Great became someone who was targeted due to his relations with his family and was harmed due to his involvement with helping Tyme escape after Nan's death at the hands of his father's people, being shot later that same evening without any idea of who was responsible. For all Tyme knows: if Great's family was more than willing to take the lives of his parents, Nan and her friend, as well as countless other families involved in their crimes, would it really be out of the question if Great were to be targeted by his own? Just as Great were willing to show up in attempts to save Tyme from his own demise, Tyme shortly realizes he is more than willing to do the same, even if that means sacrificing the outcome of saving his own life in the process.

The Tale of Two Lovers: Korn's Tragedy

If y'all read my episode 4 and 5 takeaways, I talked in depth which is truly an understatement about Korn as a character within this series and honestly from an overall view: he became one of my favorite interpretations amongst all the morally gray characters within this series. I think inherently, it comes from my understanding in Korn as an individual and how in a matter of nature versus nurture, the nature of his life easily consumed him and forbid his nature to take center stage.

In many of the details about Korn's personality and how his unbringing played a significant role in his downfall, we're revealed many circumstances that contributed to his spiral. Given that the earliest flashback we were able to see on screen was of TymeGreat as children, I found it interesting how we did not see Korn at all, reminding me about the detail that Great and his mother grew up separately from the main household as the mistress with her son (I briefly discuss this in my episode 5 takeaways). There was already a barrier between the two sons, and I'm sure this division only grew further apart once Korn's mother commits suicide and Great's mother is taken in as the new wife and face of the family. Judging from how Korn maintained this level of emotional distance between him and his loved ones, he begins to take on much of the labor his father expected of him as the heir to the family company: which included becoming the head of the "investment" division, appeasing the shareholders and other powerful key players involved in the scheme, and ultimately sacrificing his only outlet of happiness and grounds to a more desirable reality which was Tonkla and his relationship with him.

In my previous takeaways, my impressions of Korn were rather hypercritical and I'm sure for some, coming across as "anti Korn" LOL, however, the way I view Korn as a person is like that one Japanese traditional practice of kintsugi–the repairing of pottery and its cracks and imperfections with precious metals, serving as a reminder of viewing one's past with beauty rather than disgust. Korn is definitely far from perfect, we witnessed this all throughout the entire series leading up to the final episode. However, out of all the characters: Korn's willingness and quick to action when it came to protecting the person who mattered most to him gave me a slight change of heart towards him, especially when I was jumping fences about whether or not Korn was truly in love with Tonkla or was using Tonkla for accessibility to an immediate power dynamic given that as time went on and more damage was done to the company, it felt as though Korn's power was fading and seconds away from escaping his grasp the moment he was given it.

I still feel like many of the fucked up things Korn did in terms of his absence, his anger, his impulsivity, his entitlement to power and strength: I truly believe this is a case of "a person capable of doing bad things" than simply being a "bad" person. This becomes most evident when Korn reunites with Tonkla, the one person who truly is the love of his life and he is willing to do anything to protect him and help make his escape. This sentiment doesn't change the moment Tonkla confesses to harming Korn's own brother, which that exchange between the two while Win holds them at gunpoint was honestly a different level of devastation and distraught that I felt when watching TymeGreat's ending unfold.

Not only are you dealing with ushering your family from being discovered by the authorities, coordinating the disappearance of any physical footprint of the "investment" division, your brother in critical condition in the hospital, your boyfriend's face plastered all over the news after escaping arrest for murder, who confesses himself that he not only cheated on him while dealing with the grieving of his younger brother, but he was also responsible for the same injury your own younger brother is enduring because he was involved with the death of your boyfriend's younger brother. I don't know about y'all per se: but Bas did such an amazing job depicting the level of distraught and complex blends (only naming a few in this instance) of grievance, betrayal, defeat, and overall sadness with a hint of madness that the only thing really able to describe the headspace is he currently occupying is the flames from the man made fire by the homeless in the area. To simply put it in a few words for the conclusion of KornKla's story: mistakes, melancholy, and madness.

Continuity vs Stagnation: The Duty of Accountability

I think we all knew from this finale that we shouldn't anticipate many rainbows and butterflies: there were many feuds and many losses throughout this journey. If we had to sit and name a few of our losses in the span of eight episodes: Manee, Dome, Nan, Title, Tonkla, Korn, Grandma, etc (which doesn't even account for people like Tyme's parents, the investor killed by Warit's people, Manee's son, Nan's friend, etc), I think the most powerful moral of this series is grief and loss. Not simply the experience of grief and loss: but what's expected of us once we accept grief and loss as a part of the human experience.

Honestly, I was shocked to see Great and Tyme reuniting as quickly as they did while paying respects to the loved ones they lose along the way, but it brought me a lot of comfort and relief. In this moment, Great and Tyme become individuals who had a taste of what death has waiting for all of us, an experience one cannot easily shake off, majority probably never do. However, with their own volition and ability to seek out forgiveness for not only each other, but for themselves, I think what's most important is intentionality: the true dividend between individuals like Korn and Tyme versus those like Title and Chanin. Those who have a desire for change and willingness to stretch themselves thin for those they love, versus those who have little to no remorse for their sins, which leads them to having to accept the consequences of their own actions.

I don't think it's out of the question that Great becomes a more morally righteous person, even becoming someone who will choose his morals over the protection of his corrupted family members, something that we witnessed was of hesitation when confronted by Tyme in Great's NDE timeline. After witnessing and enduring the trials and tribulations of his own life, the sacrifices, the lengths of harm and manipulation, the physical experience of bodily pain and suffering, the psychological torture of grappling between what he could have become versus who he became, the physical loss of his older brother and potential brother-in-law, the emotional loss of his own parents: anyone with a strong mind and strong heart has the ability to change the trajectory of their own lives. We are the creators of them after all.

As for Tyme grappling with his own ending: I think it was pretty cool to witness both him and Great having these candid conversations about their very real challenges post NDE. "What would you do?" becomes a question all of us ask ourselves every single day: however, many of us lack the confidence, the motivation, the desire, the goal, whatever it may be that holds us back from taking on whatever it is that life throws at us.

The scene between Tyme and Warit was very powerful to me: not only from the physical condition Warit is enduring from Korn revealing the culprit of the earlier investor's death to the right individual, the literal sounds of the monitor vocalizing the increase of his heart rate at the sight and realization of Tyme in his presence playing angel or devil, life or death, savior or undertaker, the stripping of his power and resource and the sinking in of becoming the powerless individual that was once like Tyme and his own family in his eyes. Witnessing Fasai arriving and mourning for the condition of her father alongside Tyme, it made me wonder if Tyme was facing his own moral dilemma of either avenging his family right then and there, or to let the universe take the reins. It makes me wonder if who he saw in Fasai was himself to his own family and Great, Nan to her friend, all the other individuals who lose their loved ones at the hands of corruption and evil. However, seeing that last cut of the disconnected equipment felt appropriate to Tyme's character in that specific moment: that he has elevated beyond his extremities and cutthroat approaches, but still having the moral obligation to avenge the lives of his family members that were stolen from this singular man.

Concluding Thoughts

If you have been keeping up with my weekly (that's a generous way of putting it but it's ok caus ya girl got ADHD fr but got done, right?) updates on this series, I would like to express my utmost gratitude and appreciation, especially to those who I became mutuals with or have the opportunity to converse alongside you during the release of the airing episodes. I have a genuine passion for things like writing and discussion, along with creating content that gives all of us gentle reminders that the amount of dedication, craft, attention to detail, and pure passion for such productions is loved and respected by so many. I didn't think that so many series this year was going to become such a hyperfixation for me, and honestly, I'm so glad to be a part of it and contribute to the discussion and craze that is all deserving.

To think that since the conclusion of KP and iykyk, it made me so happy to finally see the light of day for Bible to have his moment that we've all been anticipating. Knowing how many iterations, changes, back and forth, waiting games, and other challenges that came our way, I'm very pleased with how the production came out and all who had a hand in its existence. To be introduced to new faces like Jes, to be reacquainted to familiar ones like Job and Bas, to recognizing rising talent such as Fuaiz and Jjay, to becoming invested in the overall message and the goals in mind for those involved with the production of 4MINUTES, I hope this series and the success (and continuing) success of this series will give everyone a chance to bring new ideas to the table, to come together without fear of breaking the formula that is slowly becoming more monotonous due to the intimidation that the fruits of their labor will have little to no return, I think we're starting to return back to our roots as creatives: the power of our own artistic voice and allowing those passions and raw desires to overpower the capital and financial gains that run the industry right now. I can't wait to see more to come, and I hope y'all will continue to support everyone (as least here on tumblr) that will push out more content from 4MINUTES cast, or even other current productions that deserve all the love and praise.

Thank you again and my prediction for myself is the next upcoming hyperfixation will be The Heart Killers or Goddess Bless You from Death...I'm just desperate for FirstKhao and MichaelTopten please don't mind me. I'm also looking forward to GMMTV's 2025 Lineup but we shall see hehehe.

Lots of XOXOXO! :D

#4 minutes #4minutes #4 minutes the series #bible wichapas #jes jespipat #bas asavapatr #fuaiz thanawat #jjay patiphan #thai bl #thai drama #thai series #bl series #mambo.4minyap #mambo.speaks #4min fridays you shall be missed #</3 #it's ok though cause i'm still gonna give y'all your jesbible and friends fixes #god i love this family

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wawawawawawawawawawawawawa · 9 months ago

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not to continue beating a dead horse but i saw the og post earlier ( got curious when i saw your posts ) and the line about the comparison with shizuo is so funny to me. like yeah it is absolutely true that shizuo is doing his best to carry on with his day and people keep fucking with him etc etc BUT. unclear how to phrase this but the underlying implication that shizuo is "better" less so because of his actions themselves and more so because the "negative" things about him ( his anger issues obvi ) are beyond his control and therefore not to be held against him entirely whereas izaya's action are entirely in his control and of his own volition ( which does such a disservice to both characters imo ) no sir absolutely no impulsive poorly calculated decisions that have consequences for him later. you fell for the character's facade meant to be dismantled by the viewer etc

we love beating dead horses in this house. say something stupid and we get to clown on you forever. those are the rules

ALSO YEAH LITERALLY TEXUALLY IZAYAS ISSUES ARE OUT OF HIS CONTROL. like.

literally right there. and you cant even be like "uuuhjffnfnbut in the anime" LOOK CLOSELY. duarara rewards reading between the lines and izaya as a character starts off with a facade that slowly crumbles and if you still believe the facade by the end then you're stupid point blank.

which like, its Fine to not be able to analyze a show, its whatever, its not a thing everyone can do ESPECIALLY as they watch a show in real time for the first time. but dont act like you had some kind of Grand Revalation about the show and then talk down to people who have been here for YEARS, decades even, because they disagree with you, and then insult shit like their age! this guy just made something up about izaya and then "dunked" on his fans because of this imagined attribute

and yeah treating shizuo as Absolved bc he Didnt Mean To does a huge disservice to him as well, wether or not he Meant To, things still happened and people were still hurt, the NUANCE behind it is whats important!! i do strongly believe that if you want to truly understand this show you need to do away with the idea of "good people" and "bad people." novody is a wholly Good Person and nobody is a wholly Bad Person and people are COMPLICATED, especially the people in durarara, and if you try to slot them into Good Person and Bad Person categorization then all youll do is do a disservice to the characters and the writing itself

and i have talked about this EXTENSIVELY on here but izaya is important to me because he seems to be intentionally coded to be a sociopath. like, i said this in my other post:

he was a young boy with clear mental problems, to the point where his father instilled that people love into him in order to prevent a worse outcome and help him be more normal. the way this is framed, as a young boy exhibiting a concerning disconnect from other people to a point where it scares a usually neglectful father into acting- is very reminiscent of media depictions (and real life examples) of parents worrying that their child is a sociopath. this could very well have been intentional, and narita EXPLICITLY makes a POINT to state that izaya is the way that he is because he has a fragile heart- any sort of genuine effection and a betrayal of it could shatter him.

and it means a lot to me that in a show full of subverting Tropes About Bad People, "the sociopath" as a trope was one of them and it ended up making an incredibly raw and honest portrayal of what having aspd is like- both in the hurting other people sense AND the suffering of the person actually with the disorder, which is something not really explored at ALL in Media About Sociopaths. i talk a lot more about izaya's possible coding HERE if youre curious, but izaya as a character is very important to me because its a kind of portrayal not really seen. so it sucks when people completely disregard any and all nuance behind him bc he makes them ~uncomfy~ and then has the audacity to make it our problem as well

also this is just an aside based on my own dislike of him at age 16, plus i earned the right to be a jackass tbh: a lot of people hate izaya bc on some level they know theyd be one of those suicide girls that has no real answer to why they want to kill themselves and flouder when asked about it, not understanding the weight of suicide in the slightest and yet still saying that theyll do it

(know or at least THINK; i was pretty insecure back then but i really wasnt Like That, i knew full well what suicide meant. but i wanna be mean so im built different. just me)

anyway yeah fuck that hater ass bitch

ALSO the idea that shizuo is in the clear bc "people keep fucking with him" is LAUGHABLE bc that includes people like. asking him a question or being mildly annoying or in the wrong place at the wrong time. dumb to the fucking ass!!!!

#wasks #izaya orihara #durarara #IT WAS SO DUMB!!!!

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hao-and-yoh · 6 months ago

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“Fractured Duality” - Bonus Content - Character Analysis

Canon Yoh / FD Yoh

Yoh is very much shaped by his experience right up until the canon divergent point of the story. He is passionate about his friends and is driven by his emotional impulses, allowing his heart to guide him. His firm belief in his path and choices will always work out has been the driving force behind his journey through the Shaman King Canon up until his arc divergence.

Yoh spends the majority of the first volume on a journey of self discovery through his interactions with Alt Hao and Matamune, which later comes crashing down and undone when it transpires those foundations were built on lies. But he remains steadfast in his belief that everything happens for reason, and that he has a significant role to play in Hao’s salvation after being shown a different path - and despite that path being apparently fabricated - he believes in Matamune’s heartfelt intention to save Hao.

Yoh is confronted with the consequences of his choice to join Hao’s team over and over again in the second volume. He attempts to overcome his doubts and fears about the true nature of his brother by hiding his true feelings from himself in an attempt to not only hide this from his mind reading twin but also from his friends. He is grappling internally with the conflict of his heart remaining steadfast in his belief in Matamune’s mission against his fears and doubts about Hao’s past actions and ultimate goal.

Yoh seeks the same warmth and affection from Hao that he received from his counterpart and desires the emotional connection he had with the illusion with his real twin. He later comes to understand this is not possible, and after rejecting the lie, he embraces the truth and accepts Hao unconditionally, flaws and all. This transpires to be the key to unlocking Hao’s true heart.

FD Yoh continues to be a key character in FD post the ending of Volume Two. Now all grown up, Yoh is living a peaceful life with his family in Funbari Onsen, raising his young son Hana. Although his adult self may no longer be a leading character of the main story, he still remains an integral key character in the whole FD universe - especially for the King. And in true Yoh fashion, his love for his family and friends transcends beyond his own world.

Canon Hao / FD Hao

Hao’s canon divergence event happens mainly “off screen” throughout the majority of Volume One. He is stripped of his power and tortured by his past decisions and actions, as well as forced to watch the events unfolding in his absence. Through reliving his trauma he experiences the overwhelming nature of his Reishi with no means of escape and no promise of relief. For the first time in one thousand years he feels real fear and loss after a power greater than himself puts him in his place. It is only when he feels Yoh’s presence in the void he finds the strength to overcome his pain and succeeds reaching out to Yoh and escapes his prison.

Now back in reality, he seeks revenge and immediately acts on his natural impulses to destroy those that wronged him - but is surprised to discover that Matamune’s actions opened a new path and opportunity for him. After being certain the lie would have negative consequences for him, he is in fact welcomed by Yoh, and experiences genuine affection and acceptance from someone for the first time. This begins Hao’s journey towards his redemption and eventual loss of his Reishi.

Hao is unable to make true connections with others due to his Reishi. He believes Yoh’s affection towards him is not real and believes Yoh would prefer the fake over him. He pushes Yoh away after misinterpreting Yoh’s grief for defeating his friends as regret for being on his side. Though Hao is picking up on Yoh’s genuine doubts, he is blinded by this and is unable to see Yoh’s desire to seek out a genuine connection and relationship with him.

Alt Hao

Alt Hao’s personality is a clash of both of the Asakura twins. Though he’s shaped and moulded by his love for his brother, he is very much a one-dimensional character - almost like his mind reads off a script. Matamune has to plug a lot of the gaps for Alt Hao, which he comes to accept without question, as though he is incapable of being critical of the events going on around him. Due to this, his personality is absent of what makes Hao - Hao. This is true because of what he is, a reflection/echo of the real thing. Nether the less, he embodies all the greatest qualities that exist within Hao and Yoh’s souls, and his actions have enormous impact on the characters he interacts with thoughout Volume One, especially Yoh. In Volume Two, he remains an integral tool in shaping Canon FD Hao and Yoh’s arc as this was his role and purpose all along.

Beginning his new adventure in “Alt” Universe, Alt Hao was gifted more memories from the King that filled some of those missing gaps in his personality, abilities and nature - making him more like his true self in some ways, but still true to his kind, selfless and merciful core. Alt Hao remembers living a happy life with his twin, though his time spent with the real Yoh in the real world has left a huge mark on him. Now finding himself back in the reality he remembers, he is inquisitive enough to realise something is not right with the world around him, pushing him to seek out answers and propels him forward in the narrative as the main protagonist of “Alt” Universe.

Alt Yoh

Alt Yoh is on a totally different level on the “non-existent scale” all on his own, and yet he remains a central and key figure in the entire FD universe. If Alt Yoh were a real character, he’d very much be a carbon copy of the real thing, as it is actually the real Yoh that plays that role for both of the Duality Hao’s stories. It is Yoh’s natural ability to show genuine love, acceptance and affection that is the driving force behind Alt Hao’s “past” and route towards his redemption, which is played out in the real FD reality for the real Hao. There’s a moment in Volume One that Alt Hao realises he had been with “his Yoh” all along, because the truth is there is no other Yoh - Yoh and Alt Hao are two halves of the same soul in the same way Hao and Yoh are. It is only when Hao becomes Shaman King does he manifest “Alt Yoh” and thus he becomes a character in the story. When readers later see Alt Yoh in the fabricated memory, he is very much “real Yoh” coded.

Alt Yoh goes through a tremendous character transformation at the end of Phase One of “Alt” Universe. But the details surrounding this change are huge spoilers. Shh!

Asakura Hao “The Shaman King”

After winning the Shaman Fight in the FD universe, Asakura Hao became the Earth’s mighty God and ruler across every existential plain of the world’s many infinite realities. As the destined victor of the Shaman Fight in every reality where the Shaman Fight exists, Hao had an infinite number of paths to reaching his Godhood. Therefore, he is King in the FD universe in the same way he is King in the SK Canon universe. Within the “Realm of the Shaman Kings” and the Great Spirits’ multiple communes, Hao’s inner identity is multi-faceted, as he remains God to every observable world at once.

“Realm of the Shaman Kings” Yoh (ROTSK)

The Yoh that accompanies the Shaman King in the “Realm of the Shaman Kings” was canonically manifested by the King in “Shaman King Flowers” using the infinite wealth of memories stored within the Great Spirits. ROTSK Yoh is a multi-faceted being just like his brother. He has all the same knowledge and awareness of the multiverse, and keeps his God-brother on the straight and narrow - whilst also keeping his King big brother company.

Read Asakura Zeke’s Character Analysis here.

#shaman king #hao asakura #yoh asakura #hao and yoh #shaman king 2021 #hao #asakura hao #asakura twins #yoh #fanfiction #fractured duality

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autisticbokutoenthusiast · 4 months ago

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Playboyy anniversery prompt week 9 Cross-over/AU

Plaboyy characters form a rugby team:

these are my thoughts on if the characters were all on a team together where they would play and if they would be good at it. this started cause ive been curious what position captain plays and would try to imagine his place and then that became all of the characters places. (if anyone has differeing opinions/thoughts please share them!!!)

Number 2 Hooker

Prom. A role that uses a lot of decision making, accuracy, and leadership, as well as physical strength and heartiness. (I think Prom is a great choice for this, bro is always two steps ahead, looks fairly solid, etc.)

Numbers 1 and 3 Loosehead and Tighthead Prop

Jump and Teena. The position requires a lot of strength and heartiness and body to body contact, not only do they fit this description they fit it better than anyone else (they have the thigh muscles to trust most out of everyone also if anyone working on season 2 is reading this can we get jump playing rugby. Pls for me) i cant imagine trying to put any other character here, just fits them best (jump in my heart is pick and go king, teena isnt afraid of a tackle etc)

Numbers 4 and 5 Locks/ Second Row

From my understanding this position requires strength and athleticism, also typically height. I think Puen is an obvious choice (actually qualified for the rugby team/ sports scholarship, hes probably the most qualified besides keen for any position. But hes also long and strong), less obvious is Nuth (he fits best here but i dont think hed be good at it, hes just too long hed hurt his back from all the bending down but would be good for lineouts ig. I dont see him being good at rugby in general tbh. I think he winces any time he has to tackle someone i also think he is most liable to penalties cause he has to get real low to not hit above the neck)

Numbers 6 and 7 Flanker

HEAR ME OUT Aob and Nont, these players are always on it right? And its still a very physical position. i think Nont would be great at it (has a lot of pent up aggression, he would love running around tackling ppl while screaming etc. but not sure hed be good at passing the ball to his teammates or communicating in the moment tho, hes not giving team player sjfajkdls) but i think aob would fit well here too (hes strong hes focused hes got this. But i also think hed be done after like 20 minutes. Not even physically, hes just over it emotionally. Hes got first and porsche behind him yelling, jump is bleeding on one of his fingers but is trying to hide it, nuth got yellow carded again, captain is dirty talking badly, zouey is faking an injury, soong tripped and fell after finally getting the ball he was calling for, etc. he just would rather go home)

Number 8

Now this is my first real controversial pick, from my understanding a really versatile position, like will pick up responsibilities from other positions as well as their own, also carries an extra bit of weight and the scrum and stuff, Keen is the captain/coach, hes got the most knowledge and hes the most reliable, i think he could play any other position but fits this one best out of the cast (i also think he doesnt love his team but hes doing his best, hes got porsche behind him in absolute gremlin mode about to fight nont for not passing the ball when he needs to, but hes keeping his cool.)

Number 9 Scrum-Half

I know ive said captain before but this to me is porsche and i think hed be good at it. (I know hes tiny, but this position is often held by smaller players right? But theres a lot of control involved and porsche would love that. I also think he has the necessary quick reaction time given how he dropped jasons goon like that. To me hes one of those players who wages psychological warfare and does shit like pants the other player rather than tackle, take as much time possible digging the ball out of a ruck, scratch players/ pull hair/ etc. very effective.) (i also think hes one of those scrum-halfs that bitch the entire time the scrum is setting up and then is unpredictably fast at feeding the ball in if he cant get the ref to give a penalty to the other side)

Number 10 Fly-Half

First. Again, I know hes small but HEAR ME OUT i think hed be dangerous as hell once he locked in… like this is also a big thinking role and also organizing defense and i think hed love defending (hes in med school with like 4.0 average hed probably be an ok strategist and idk what kind of doctor hes trying to be but like medical procedures require you to practice calm and quick on the fly decision making. Boom hed be great. and hes short enough it would be easy for him to get away with reckless tackles cause of the lack of head contact probability. Also, yes he gets flattened really often but hed love hitting everyone else back)

Numbers 12 and 13 Centre

This is Captain and Zouey. I know i clown captain for being more suited to referee (which he is. Tell me he wouldnt be happier getting to boss all the sweaty guys around instead of taking hits himself) but hes probably fairly athletic and like porsche will definitely play dirty (he gives player who gets yellow carded 3 minutes in for like hair pulling of someone who doesnt even have possession) so i put him in inner centre, hes probably got speed compared to the other players, hes hungry for scoring, and he also seems like someone whod enjoy tackling. Ive also put zouey here because he has to go somewhere, but lowkey i think hes the worst at rugby (not interested at all. doesnt want to be tackled, doesnt want to do tackling, doesnt want to catch and throw the ball, doesnt wanna run back and forth, etc. maybe would be better suited to water boy, not even announcer cause he dgaf about whats happening) like i dont think it holds appeal to him at all. Maybe hell do portraits of everyone after but other than that, hes just trying his best to stay out of the way.

Numbers 11 and 14 Wing

This is a like persistent type position, and requires speed. Im putting Soong here. Soong to me is someone who thinks hed be good at rugby and fucking isnt but i think running around is the safest place to put him cause he hesitates when it comes to tackling (he wants to be hooker but keen refuses to put him on the front line cause he tried in practice and flopped sjflksjd but ill give him this, he may look cringe as hell but he puts his all into footwork and side stepping and it does pay off on occasion). Im also putting Playboyy Employee who was scared of the baddie bunch here cause we at least see he can run and im running out of characters….

Number 15 Full-back

Phop. its giving the other team broke thru the wingers and hes like ‘fine guess its up to me… again’. (Hes steady hes reliable hell do what needs to be done but hes not a flashy player.)

Announcer

Tutor, what can i say the people yearn for his coverage, he kinda gives announcer that during time off starts divulging real personal stories of the players that he refuses to explain how he got the info for

Lead medical

Firsts dad. We have a doctor in the cast yeah im gonna include him. Hes always criticizing soong and captain when he patches them up.

Team sponsor

Jason. Im sure i dont have to explain this one.

Anyway those are my thoughts.

#playboyy the series #playboyy anniversary #playboyy prompt week

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starfallforest · 9 months ago

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A story that is very directly referenced in Rafayel's narrative several times is The Little Mermaid (the fucked up Hans Christian Andersen one, not the happy ending Disney one). The princess gives all of herself to a love that betrays her and she is lost in the end. I don't think it's a coincidence. Rafayel, like the Little Mermaid, is punished for his naivete, for his impulsive love. Whether or not that's fair to him, he made a reckless decision that ended in the fall of his entire people and eternal punishment for himself. What's even more unfair is that all of Lemuria was punished for his one decision. He was an impudent god, like the ones you find in Greek mythology. A people suffers for the foolishness of their leader. This is the outcome of The Little Mermaid and many stories from Greek mythos.

Rafayel putting his entire race in danger for one cute girl is stupid as hell, selfish as hell, and not only was he punished for it, but his entire kingdom was as well, and why did they deserve that? Sure, they treated him differently. But he had a duty as their leader, a role only he could fulfill. Just as Rafayel maybe didn't ask for his role as god of the sea, the people of Lemuria didn't ask for their roles either. What evidence is there that his people treated him with anything but the respect and reverence of a god? They didn't deserve to die for that, they died for Rafayel's hubris and only for that. What is reasonable about that? In the real world, we all have roles in society assigned to us whether or not we want them, and us choosing to shirk those duties usually results in harming someone. Whether or not it's best for us individually, it's not always fair to those we leave behind. Above all, we all make important decisions in life, and ignorance isn't an excuse to harm someone, much less many people.

If we translated this into the real world, you can't cleanly justify Rafayel's actions actually. But this is fiction. Lemuria dying as punishment for Rafayel's decision to give up his heart is romantic, nuanced, interesting, tragic. Rafayel's narrative is interesting because the writers ask "what if the Little Mermaid was able to come back and exact her revenge?" and not only that, but they ask, "would she repeat the narrative?" which imo is a very Chinese mythology, xianxia fate-reincarnation spin on the original story. And from what it looks like in Abysswalker and also in limited banners where we're kissin in the modern timeline uwu, he does fall victim to repeating the cycle. This isn't real life. It's a story and boy is it captivating as fuck, especially when you start thinking about the underlying themes and storytelling devices and how they relate to things like fairytales and Greek mythology and even Shakespeare. Greek mythos and fairytales are only fucked up in real life. That's why it's a disservice to Rafayel's character, or any of the characters in this game, when people want to hand-wave their actions as always justified or morally sound. You can't have that and have a story as interesting, detailed, and well-written as the one in this innocuous-seeming mobile game.

Rafayel is immoral. He's selfish, he's petulant, he's reckless, he's emotive and indecisive, he's tragic, he doesn't understand his own hotheadedness or trauma, he doesn't take accountability for his actions, he abandons his people and his duties more than once, he lacks foresight even as history repeats itself. He is the Little Mermaid who gives up his kingdom and his soul for a single person who then betrays him. And even with the clarity of having hindsight, after all he's sacrificed to get to where he is, at the chance to redo everything, he's still the Little Mermaid who can't bring himself to put the dagger in MC's back.

https://www.tumblr.com/leaderincrows/761521790767038464/ending-a-whole-civilization-for-a-single-person-is?source=share

I mean I do agree with you that this was a selfish act. But I wanted to add something. Rafayel didn't ask to be the sea god or whatever he was. I think it's reasonable to assume before he gave his heart to mc he didn't get to listen to his heart or have much of autonomy. Similar to Xavier or just the typical prince trope. I think while a selfish and morally questionable act,him giving mc his heart was an important and necessary thing for him to do.

Rafayel reminds me of the concept of angels in myths/art. Made to serve and serve only,with no choice but to live on forever doing so without ever even thinking about their own desires. If they choose to not be mindless workers 24/7 who will do the gods work? Who will make people's wishes come true? Who will help them? These questions might seem mindless if you haven't consumed as much angel media as me but I find the dilemma very interesting. Even though I clearly lean more towards angels and gods having autonomy. The show miracle workers was the start of this pondering I think. Wings of desire is a good one too. Angels last mission love is a kdrama with similar concept. Just recommending stuff incase you get interested too.

I disagree with your comparison to angels. Angels serve an ultimate authority and Rafayel "served" mortal people he was able to wipe out completely, it's an entirely different dynamic. You seem pretty set on viewing him as a victim who shouldn't be blamed for his wrongdoings, which I'm sure he's a victim to an extent (manipulation) but that doesn't absolve him of what he did. My thing is that he still did it and I'm not convinced there was no other way. Babygirl was a whole ass ocean god.

The last few years I've noticed more and more people across many fandoms feel like they can only enjoy characters who are morally correct and without flaws, because they want to stay up high on their imaginary pedestal of moral superiority. So what happens is they twist canon to fit their view of the character, seemingly ignoring things like *cough* the way he seems to not give a shit if mc dies as a result of him abandoning her in the water, or in the nest.

And I don't get it lmfao. Rafayel has such a unique love hate relationship with mc and y'all wanna just. Look away. Like why?? Because this is a toxic relationship where mc has a very unfair and dangerous power over him and he's forced to navigate this all alone?? That's an interesting dynamic!! It makes the story juicy!!

#fandom: chat #forest meta #btw if we want to talk about angel tropes can we talk about zayne......

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years ago

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I heard there was an outrage in jp during book 5 finale at Rook's "betrayal" for voting for RSA (either ppl angry at Rook or the fact that NRC lost despite trying so hard and everything). And til this day I still see ppl misunderstand that Rook voted for RSA because he secretly likes Neige... Idk if I missed something but it was clearly shown why he made that decision, I feel like whoever thought otherwise never understands his character from the start and it saddens me 🙁

Oh, believe me 😅 that outrage was everywhere at the time of episode 5's release in JP (both in the Japanese audience and in the international audience, from what I can recall). I think a lot of it was born out of the frustration of seeing NRC lose to what many perceived as a low effort or bad performance (on RSA's part), as well as the shock at Rook's betrayal (and the false attribution of his vote going to RSA because of his personal attachment to Neige). There were also very long delays for this part of the game to come out, so that may have also contributed to the hype and the subsequent "let down" that the fandom experienced.

I really feel like those reactions were... well, simply put, WAY too much. I understand the initial shock or being upset that the story didn't pan out as a person may have wanted, but there were some pretty extreme reactions, such as those completely renouncing Rook, blatantly insulting the writing by claiming that the devs didn't understand how to write their own characters, and threatening harm onto those involved in the process. That's... crossing a line that DEFINITELY shouldn't be crossed 😬

In the context of the world of Twisted Wonderland itself, I felt that the writing decisions made had a lot of sense behind them. It was stated time and time again that VDC voting was determined by audience vote, NOT by expert judges. Therefore, how professional or unprofessional the performances were mattered little in the grand scheme of things. What truly mattered was to what extent each performance actually appealed to the audience, and it was shown during Neige's practice run that his cuteness and innocence DOES have widespread appeal in their world. This may not necessarily be true of the real world, but we need to think about the story of TWST from the perspective of those in it, not as the omniscient players. (There is also the fact that we are literally on the side of NRC and stayed with them during their training boot camp, so we already go into the competition with bias for the boys we've spent far more time with.) When it comes to Rook, a character twisted from the Beautiful Queen's huntsman, who betrays her trust and lets Snow White go... well, it was the obvious twist for the end of episode 5, wasn't it? Him being a fan of Neige wasn't even the reason given for why Rook voted for RSA. Rook says time and time again that he cannot lie to his own heart, so when he voted for RSA, it was because he was genuinely more moved by their performance than by his own group's. (Episode 6 elaborates more on this by pointing out that NRC couldn't perform at full capacity since they were all worn out from battling OB Vil.) Moreover, Rook understands that even Vil wouldn't want him to vote for NRC if his entire heart wasn't behind the belief; neither of them would want NRC to have a "hollow" victory, even if it would feel good and cathartic in the moment for the player to see. There is also another reason for Rook voting RSA: he wanted his dear friend to recognize his own worth, and for him to not base that worth on the approval of the public or what others may think of him. Throughout episode 5, Vil has been unhealthily obsessing over his perception in the public eye (which surely has not gone unnoticed by Rook, as there are moments where he has quiet asides that imply he is thinking or taking note of Vil's suspicious words and actions). But Rook--even if he is concerned for his friend--knows that directly confronting Vil about it won't remedy the situation. Maybe voting against Vil wasn't what we, the players, wanted, but it's definitely what Vil himself needed. Happily ever afters aren't guarantees, no matter how one wishes or works--and while I get that recognizing that can sting, it's a key part of TWST that I feel often gets overlooked because we get so enamored with the characters and wishing the best for them. We should also realize that sometimes what we think is "best" for the characters doesn't mean it is, and it doesn't always involve giving said character what they want or putting them in a conventionally "good" or "happy" situation. Sometimes it's being told the harsh truth or being handed a crushing loss is what spurs a character into taking action or bettering themselves, and I believe that's the case for Vil in episode 5 and moving forward in the main story.

But back to Rook, I feel like he gets a LOT of the heat because he's... just a character that is easy to dislike. He comes off the wrong way to a lot of people due to his very intense personality (as well as how much the general population in-universe seems to dislike him), and this leaves him as an easy target for blame 💦 He's also a character that is readily dismissed as foolish (again, due to how he usually acts), and many don't realize just how resourceful or clever he actually is. I'll be the first to admit that it's a pet peeve of mine when I come across that sort of interpretation, but at the same time I sort of get it! When a character puts you off from the very beginning, most people won't feel incentivized to delve deeper or to try to understand them beyond the surface level 😅 I tend to tell myself "Hey, it's all good! This is what he wants people to perceive him as. Rook's facade is working, he's tricking people into thinking he's silly so they won't expect it when he pulls an Uno Reverse card on them!" (It's similar to how J*de acts nice to your face while he's actually secretly manipulating you--) ... This is why I like them isn't it? That helps me feel a little better it.

#Vil Schoenheit #Neige Leblanche #Rook Hunt #notes from the writing raven #spoilers

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rcksmith · 4 years ago

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Not you — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “Five Hargreeves x fem!reader, Fluff prompts 9, 52 and 53, please? (You can do this whenever you feel like it) Five and Y/n are both hit by one of Hazel and Cha-Cha’s bullets in the Gimbel Brothers store and they immediately go to the academy (Five wants Y/n treated as soon as possible.) after they’re fine, the siblings start to question them on Five’s protectiveness over Y/n”

“Hii could I request 4 & 23 off the fluff prompts for Five pls ty 😌✨”

Fluff prompts:

4. “Sweetheart, you’re my entire world”

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

23. “i’ve dreamt about this.”

52. "Help her first."

53. “There are no limits when it comes to you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same energy and they prompts connect to a central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.

I used here some fragments of the central plot of Five, but, guys, keep in mind that he is 20 years old, and that when he comes back to 2019 Five does not make a mistake in the calculations. I changed the location of the fight too, but a really I hope you, Anon # 1, don't mind.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: blood, mention of death, swearing, fluff too.

— — — — —

You remembered perfectly when you met Five Hargreeves, the commission's golden ball, The Handler's award-winning shamrock. If you closed your eyes, even after years, you could still smell the male cologne wafting in the air, and you could relive the same feeling in the pit of your stomach that you had when he looked at you with those obsedian eyes.

Five Hargreeves was gorgeous. Absurdly gorgeous. But absurdly arrogant, boastful, presumptuous and completely absent of any delicacy in relation to empathy and kindness. He was the type who would open the door for you to enter first, but who would be the first to make fun of your erroneous reasoning.

And that was why, at the time, when you were assigned to be his partner, you lived in conflict with what you really felt. It was a mixture of tantrum and physical attraction.

But unlike all the people around Five, when he spit fire at you with all the anger at his difficult temper, you didn't run. In fact, when it exploded the first time in front of you, you crossed your arms, arched an eyebrow and looked at him with boredom.

“Have you finished your show yet?” You said, as if you didn't care, leaning against the hood of the car while Five screamed through the 7 winds “Stop to imply with everything.”

Five had been your partner for a few months now and it became clearer each day that the irritation was mutual. He made it perfectly clear that you pissed him off until his last hair.

But, unlike you, it was for another reason.

Shit, you were a fucking goddess! Your beauty was notorious, but that was not all that caught his attention. You were smart, canny, brave, Five never saw you in fear of any situation or shaken by any scene of blood. You knew your goals and went after them. It was strong, decisive, and, goddamn, he loved it. You had a fist, you were firm, and you always made it very clear that you were no helpless maiden.

It felt like you had gotten out of his imagination, from the daydreams in which Five rambled about what kind of woman he admired. And, hell, you came with the full package. It was a combination of overwhelming beauty, intelligence, dexterity, and he never thought that someone like that could be real.

But of course you were. And now Five was completely irritated because you were real, and not just another his dream and daydream in which a sublime woman starred.

“To Imply?” Five turned to you, eyes on fire “To Imply?!”

“Like a 2-year-old who didn't take his afternoon nap. It's not the end of time, it doesn't have to be childish.”

Now Five felt himself ignite. He was a dry, rough fire and you were gasoline, igniting everything saw ahead.

Was that damn woman calling he a child?! You?! Just you, the person whose Five wanted to tie the bed and do all kinds of sinful things.

Oh hell no!

Five came forward, furious, like an angry god, his coal eyes never leaving your direction.

“Childish, isn't it?” He snarled “I'm going to show you the childish!”

Five held your face tightly in his hands and pressed your lips to his. Fierce, needy, set on fire, lost in half sentences of feelings about you. He slid his hands to the back of your neck, closing his fingers in your hair and invading your mouth with his tongue, letting you taste the caffeine, danger and lust he had.

You sighed, or Five, or both. You held him as close as he was, with the two of you being on the same mission: to conquer, to take, to possess. But Five had an extraordinary intensity, a magnitude that managed to win you

Then your touch became more docile, your kiss became submissive and you were surrendered. When Five walked away, not with his body, he still held you against him, but with his head, enough to look you in the eye, you sighed.

“I’ve dreamt about this.” You gave up your game, because you couldn't pretend anymore, and Five responded by kissing you again, this time tasting your whole mouth.

After that day, Five and you never came apart. You two were like a dynamic duo, crime partners in the morning and intense lovers at night.

But Five spent so much time with affection, love and caring being denied that when, on a night when work got the best of him, Five fell into the bed you shared in a Motel room, very close to your lap and you smiled sweetly and ran your fingers through his black hair, establishing the affection there, Five was catatonic.

His wild mind wanted to take it away and go, tell you to swallow those loving gestures and that he would never need them. That they were a nuisance, a distraction.

But his body and heart... well, they begged Five to stay another second. Just one more second enjoying that touch, the care, the importance that someone felt for him. He liked to be pampered, who knew.

So he ended up falling asleep with your touch and, after that day, Five realized that if his body and heart couldn't get any further from you, then no one would ever take you away from him. You would stay with him, until the end. As long as you wanted to stay.

And you wanted to. You wanted all the stages, all the moments, all the fights. You wanted Five, completely. And after some time like that, he said that you two were going to get married. It wasn't a request, it wasn't a speculation, it was a fact and that's it. You laughed, it was Five's style to be embarrassed about something and treat it more coarsely, just because he didn't know how to deal with the emotions he felt.

“Of course I do.” You reassured him by bringing your hands to his face, tracing affectionate circles on his cheek with your thumb.

“You would have no other option.” He grunted, not looking at you, trying to divert attention from his own racing heart.

You laughed and sealed the future of the two of you with a kiss.

After five years of making it official, Five said he had found a way for him to get home. And as he spoke, you noticed a flickering hesitation in his eyes. You knew, at that moment, that Five would leave it behind if there was a chance that you wouldn't want to go along. He promised to love you, in joy and sadness, in difficult times and in good times, and he never broke a promise.

Five Hargreeves would stay for you. In 1963, in 1988, in 2019, it didn't matter the season, the year. It wouldn't be worth anything if didn't have you by his side.

But, like him, it was logical that you would never abandon him, ever. So you went along. It was together in the murder in 1963, it was together at the time of the target, and it was together when he jumped in the portal. You were with Five when he reunited with his family, they all amazement by the 13 year old little brother who disappeared to reappear as a man of 25. On top of that accompanied by a girl.

But Five still couldn't administer his emotions properly, he still couldn't say that he missed his brothers and that being without his family had been terrible. His past contained many shipwrecks and he did not know how to open up about it. After so many years alone and then killing without any judgment, it was difficult to connect with emotions.

So, instead of saying everything that screamed inside him, after just some time with the siblings he took your hand and pulled you out, telling the Hargreeves that he would go after a decent coffee.

“I wish I could have talked to them better.” You grumble whit Five and he rolled his eyes.

“As if they were going to understand the things you were going to explain.” He murmured, covering the whole issue of the Commission and time jumps.

“This is not difficult to explain.” You raised your left hand, signaling the silver circle that hugged your finger.

Five laughed, sipping his coffee.

“You will be my wife forever, there is plenty of time for you to tell that.”

But as soon as Five's words had just left your lips, blowing in the air like fog, the door to the store opened, and you two didn't have to turn around to find out who they were. Years on the commission have earned you enough training to even recognize the sound of their footsteps.

The exchange of looks that Five and you gave was enough to know what each one was thinking and how they would act. That was your secret language, the superpower that you two shared. No words were needed to understand each one like the back of your hand.

You took a deep breath, while your fingers on your right hand steadied yourself on the coffee cup and Five on the knife. There was no waiting for speeches, exchanging words, you both knew that the Commission would send the best agents besides you, and Hazel and Cha-Cha were not known to be late at work.

Then the action started, Five turned and teleported with the knife, shoving it into the leg of one of the agents covered in rabbit masks. You didn't stay behind and swivel your chair around, throwing the sizzling coffee into the second's hands, causing him to drop the gun on the floor. You didn't wait to kick him in the chest, making him stagger backwards as you got up from the chair. You and Five were good, but so was Hazel and Cha-Cha, and you couldn't count on the powers to dodge physical attacks.

Everything was very fast indeed, windows were broken, punches were exchanged, blood was plucked. But when you looked to the side and saw who was probably Cha-Cha pushing Five against a broken glass stake, you understood why love at work was so dangerous. You understand completely. Because you've lost your focus. It took a thousandth of an instant for years of training and improvement to be thrown out the window. Only the possibility of Five getting hurt got you off track, and that was fatale.

The agent who fought with you took advantage of your distraction, reaching for the gun that was on the floor in that split second. And a shot reverberated through the place.

Suddenly, the world for Five stopped the axis. Everything was suspended, appalled, frozen. And in that very second, his body shivered from head to toe, as if misfortune had sighed in his neck. Five Hargreeves never feared anyone, even death itself. But as soon as he heard the sound of the shot, Five tasted death. Was rough, metallic and cruel, the blood drained from the body and the world released a dark and funeral note, sinking into a black sea.

Because fear is not the bullet hitting you, but someone you love.

Five turned back, eyes wide, hands shaking, and he didn't know what was beating faster: his fear or his heart.

He would remember that moment as the most cruel and frightening of his entire life, years in the apocalypse and killing had no comparison to the terror that was seeing your white shirt start to be stained with blood, the bullet hole marking your abdomen. You looked up at him, shocked, livid, and Five could see death perfectly, pulling the vitality out of your eyes.

He didn't think, he didn't reason, he just teleported himself to you, taking your body in his arms and teleported you two away from there. Five’s hands were shaking, a visceral pain snaking through his body and suffocating him with the worst sensation Five had ever felt in his life.

He took you both to the Hargreeves mansion in the blink of an eye, his powers failing when the blue flash left you both in the giant living room.

“Five!”

Maybe it was Luther's voice, or Klaus, or Diego, he didn't know. Everything was a distant echo, a note submerged in the water. Five saw or heard nothing but your body in his arms, your eyes closed and face frighteningly pale, his right hand, which was pressing on your wound, was already soaked in blood.

It was too much blood, the smell was overwhelming, and for the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was in despair.

Hands touched his shoulders, and Grace's voice was heard in the background. But he didn't want treatments, whatever the goddamn his wounds were going to be.

“Help her first!” Five shouted, his voice finding strength in the terror he felt. And also in fury.

The Handler would pay for that, and so would Hazel and Cha-Cha. And, by God, the whole world would pay if you never opened your eyes again.

“Right now.” Maybe it was Pogo “But, Five, are you…”

“No!” He ordered “She first!”

Then Grace's hands took you out of his arms and Five refused to leave you for even a second. He was beside you at the operating table, holding your hand, with him bloody fingers of your blood and the agent he had fought.

But Five didn't care about the himself state, the people around it, or anything. His eyes were focused on you, his face frozen in a livid expression.

And when Grace said that you would need a blood transfusion and Five barely let her finish speaking before rolling up the manga and extending his arm, the siblings Hargreeves and Pogo were shocked. What they saw in Five's eyes was not a man afraid of losing someone, but of losing the person he loved.

I shouldn't have come back. Was Five's first thought when the surgery ended well and you were still asleep. It was his fault that you almost died. And everything was buzzing in Five's head like a propellant.

“So…”

Klaus appeared in the kitchen, with the siblings, while Five was washing the blood from his hands, now calmer since you were alive.

“That was heavy.” Luther let out a little gasp, a kind of choked laugh.

“Aren't you going to tell us what happened?” Allison sat at the table.

“She almost died because of my decision, that's what happened.” Five replied, turning and picking up a cloth from the table, drying his hands.

“Five...” Allison made his eyes go towards his sister “Who is she, actually ?”

Five gave a bitter laugh. Who were you? How would he explain it?

You are everything. The reason wake up everyday was good, what made the summer breeze and the sun's rays warm, the reason why his world was still spinning.

Who were you? It was absolutely everything for Five.

“Someone very important.” His whispered escaped.

“So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend ?!" Luther looked at Five in shock, as if the possibility of him having a girlfriend was absurd.

“No.” Five looked at Luther with fire in his eyes, his voice hoarse “That girl is my wife!”

The room's breath evaporated, everyone was dumbfounded and bewildered. But Grace came in at that moment, saving Five from continuing that conversation.

“She woke up.” His mother's voice was soft, and Five dropped everything he was doing and disappeared into the blue flash.

The first thing he noticed when he entered that room was you sitting on the bed, your back against the headboard.

“Hey...” the smile you gave made Five's world spin again.

He didn't wait a second before walking up to you in quick steps, holding your face in his hands and sealing your lips in a desperate kiss, as if that could prove that everything was fine.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered against your lips, hands shaking, thumbs stroking yours cheeks.

“Bad vase doesn't break early.” You joked and Five laughed softly, his forehead touching your. “Were you hurt?”

He denied it, still with you, as if letting you was impossible. Maybe it was.

“I got distracted, I'm sorry that we let them escape and...”

Five interrupted your sentence

“Sweetheart…” You stopped, bewitched by his tone of voice “You’re my entire world.”

Five wasn't calling Hazel and Cha-Cha right now. He would kill that entire Commission later. Later. Now the only thing that mattered was you.

“I shouldn't have broken our contracts with the commission. I shouldn't have put you in this.” He said “But ... but I am very selfish, and even though I knew it would be better to let you go back to the Commission, I cannot live without you...”

“Hey, I not go come back.” You held his hands that were on your face, looking at him with love "My place is with you.”

“I promise you that I will never let anyone else hurt you. Even if I have to kill every single person on this planet. ” Five guaranteed “There are no limits when it comes to you. I'll do anything to keep you safe. ”

You smiled, put your lips together in a passionate kiss and whispered:

“I only need you, my love. Forever.”

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lestwritewhilewaitingforajobcall · 4 years ago

Text

Tamed Seas - Poseidon x Reader

(A/N)

This is the very first post I’m making on this equally new account and also the very first time I am ever using a second person POV for the reader. Let me know your thoughts!

The following story is just for shits and giggles. I do not own any of the characters, they are the property of Shinya Umemura and Takumi Fukui and Ajichika. I also do not own you, the reader.

Warning: Swearing from my disclaimer.

Tamed Seas

Poseidon x Reader

They were never allowed to stare.

If Poseidon never looked anyone in the eye, deeming them unworthy of even a simple gaze, then anyone other than himself were equally unworthy in looking at his wife.

Just before the meeting had started about a decision to be made on humanity’s fate, Poseidon had entered in his full regalia, his wife walking alongside him. Of course, such a prestigious couple deserved such a special entrance, as Hermes, per Zeus’ request too, played his violin most ceremoniously, a proud smirk on his face upon seeing the royal feet step perfectly on the red carpet he had immediately placed upon knowing of their arrival. Zeus’ older brother held a record of never attending meetings, much more any simple get-togethers unless they were of real utmost importance such as this one.

Shiva’s eyes grew at the sight of the couple. Even though Poseidon’s wife had originally been a mortal who had ascended to godhood, you were glowing and looked as ethereal as Aphrodite. Was he seeing things? He blinked and leaned forward in his seat. The last time he saw you was at the announcement of your wedding, then after the ceremony he never caught a glimpse of you ever again and only heard stories of your new and impressive conquests. Were you always this godlike?

As if reading his thoughts, he gulped upon finding himself at the receiving end of Poseidon’s cold and stoic stare. He shrugged his shoulders. Man, he had heard rumors of his sudden protectiveness towards his wife, but he never expected him to be this overly protective. He was merely trying to figure out if his wife was always glowing like this or not. Both figuratively and literally.

Alright, maybe he was checking you out a little bit.

Unlike the god of the seas, his wife greeted Zeus, and all the familiar gods with a warm smile. It had been ages since you had seen them all together, and the sight brought a sense of nostalgia to the days where you had first earned their favor, then their respect, and then their friendship. Although your story might not be as mighty (and as physically taxing) as Hercules’ was, you considered those ‘young’ days to also be one of your best apart from getting married to the man god who you had given your heart for and will continue to love and cherish for the rest of your life. Since you became Poseidon’s wife, you had not had much time to do leisure outside the palace, and correspondingly after heralding the title of ‘queen of the seas,’ you had taken it upon yourself to help your husband in matters concerning his own kingdom and the vast seas themselves.

“Master Zeus—” Zeus threw you a knowing look. “My apologies, Zeus, it’s such a pleasure to see you again!”

“Same here, little lady! Judging by the frequent calmness of the Atlantic Ocean, I trust you and my brother are faring along quite well?” The father of all gods chuckled, then wiggled his gray eyebrows. “Why, I must say, me and most of the other Olympians have been waiting for some new gods and goddesses to rule alongside us, if you know what I mean! Ehe he~”

Characteristic of your husband, Poseidon simply scoffed before muttering how gods such as themselves need not gossip. Blue eyes never left the Hindu god however, and unbeknownst to his wife, he lingered closer to you than usual whenever the both of you were in public.

This time, Shiva had had enough. He was sure he only looked at the direction of Poseidon’s wife only once, and admired you only once as well, yet he was being skewered by the god’s gaze for longer than what he had intentionally allowed. As if he had openly claimed you as his! He was the god of destruction for heaven’s sake, and would not allow this sacrilegious act, regardless of whoever he had to settle the score with. If it was with another prominent deity, then it would be a lot more fun. Golden eyes narrowed daringly, an equally challenging aura oozing from his form and startling the nearby gods.

“Lord Shiva, are you okay—”

“(Name). How many times do I have to repeat myself? You have no need to refer to other gods with honorifics.” Your attention whipped to your husband, who to your surprise, held a familiar, challenging stance. Unbeknownst to you but the other gods especially Aphrodite, Poseidon simply matched the challenge of the Hindu god. “You are the wife of the seas. All the other gods are beneath you, as they are beneath me as well.”

Upon hearing this, Shiva gripped his concrete armrests too greatly and it crumbled to dust under his strength. Pumped at where this interaction seemed to be heading−the thought of fighting, he stood up, arms on the ready to cause destruction. Despite being in the middle of the crowd and quite far away from the center of the stadium where the couple stood, he caught glimpse of the famous trident he would never be caught dead wielding. Now this was getting interesting!

“My rules are simple: you disrespect me, you die,” He pointed at Poseidon, which the latter found disgusting enough to scrunch up his nose.

“Should we put a stop to this, Lord Zeus?” Hermes asked behind a white gloved hand. Not exceeding any expectations, Zeus laughed after a stroke of his beard and clapped. He always was one to find entertainment in alike situations, especially after the fact that this was the only time, he and all the other gods had really felt Poseidon riled up. The expression on the god of the seas’ face remained calm but it was betrayed by the suffocating, dominating presence he emitted from where he stood.

“And after you die, your wife would become firsthand witness of realizing how your title betrays your strength,” Shiva stretched, but halfway through noticed Poseidon’s quick work of his trident. He took a stance and prepared for the parrying move.

Amidst the unexpected battle that was soon to happen, to everyone’s surprise, a whistling sound echoed along the tension-filled stadium. It was a tune most foreign to the gods, all except one. From your lips, a beautiful melody poured out as a soft gentle breeze seemed to have begun to blow. It was an old tune you had learned from one of your many lifetimes in the mortal world,

And the very same one you had sung to Poseidon that had sustained him in trying moments.

Poseidon came to a full stop, his muscles unmoving as he listened and slowly, put his trident down. What was he thinking? He should not have been swayed by a foolish taunt committed by a foolish god. He was perfection incarnate. His wife would never fall for a foolish antic, so why did he? Now he was both angry and confused with himself. How could he have allowed himself for even a moment, for others to see him angry over this? What even was this?

Without the need to look at you, relishing in your fine tunes reminded him of the initial catalyst to his reaction and an answer to his question. Whenever matters concerned his wife, his emotions, which he learned were out of his control, seemed to defy all rational logic, which, even at the very beginning of your courtship, bypassed his ego. Of course, despite these strong feelings, the one thing Poseidon had control over were his actions. Therefore, he had always had a grip on how he presented himself. Although it was still a slow progress to figuring out this foreign feeling with his wife, the only other being he deemed truly worthy to allow into his life, anyone else will never have a chance of being privy to this side of him−a sentiment that thankfully, his wife shared. Though he never admitted it, he was confused and left mulling over for some time when you had also told him before that you had meant a different thing.

“…Foolish. Gods have no need for wars, we are perfect beings ourselves. You are not the reason for my presence here and are not worthy of my time and attention.” Another long silence fell, finally broken by Poseidon, ignoring the mix of surprised and fearful stares. His legs started carrying him towards the direction of one of the high stage boxes in the stadium. “Come, (Name).”

Shiva, who had his fists out and ready to fight, blinked twice in confusion before grunting, scratching the back of his ear violently in frustration. “You Greek gods have always been boring! And here I thought I’d finally be able to cause some destruction again, this time in Valhalla…”

Other than the Hindu god himself, none would ever understand if he had riled up the Greek god on purpose for the sake of his own entertainment or, perhaps, for something more personal. Zeus, meanwhile, followed the sight of his older brother walking quietly alongside his wife. Aphrodite nodded her head in his direction, affirming his suspicions. He would never fully understand the concept of love, but hey, he did get the message that all would be damned if so much as a single hair went missing on (Name)’s hair. And it seems he was not alone in this thought, as despite Shiva’s aggressive taunting, he also managed to peak into the gravity of the god of seas’ feelings towards his wife.

After Shiva had been calmed down and more gods piled in along with the Valkyries, Zeus set his meeting in motion. From the stands, Poseidon and his wife occupied the two seats that closely resembled their thrones. Eagerly sitting beside the god, (Name) grinned. Every day she had to sit close to her husband or even at times on his lap, she always felt like her body fit snugly against his.

Blue eyes stared uninterested at the spectacle.

“Dearest?” Poseidon turned his head and met your gaze. Any dark smudges had disappeared beneath his eyes, and his mouth that was carved into a seemingly permanent frown softened. His lips went from a thin line to a gentle curve.

“Thank you.”

No more words needed to be said. Poseidon knew what you were thanking him for, and he responded by closing his eyes as though he was swallowing every ounce of serenity that emitted from you. And the taste was sweet…

Above the angry retaliation of the gods regarding the verdict of Ragnarok, Poseidon enjoyed an elusive peace. Even if it was just a simple moment like this, he set his features in calm lines and his shoulders sank−a truly rare sight, a special secret between himself and his wife.

“I don’t care about this. I am eager to go home.” Poseidon whispered under his breath.

A chuckle left his wife’s lips. “We’re going home soon, don’t fret.”

#poseidon x reader #snv x reader #snv poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok poseidon x reader #snv thor

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timecma · 2 years ago

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hi! i really enjoyed your fairy council analysis and was wondering if you had any thoughts on the character of Rook. i find the disagreement he and Alex have to be really interesting, and was curious if you had any opinions on it

Hello! I’m glad you enjoyed my Fairy Council analysis—I actually keep on adding facts in a The Land of Stories discord server that I come up with based on that whole glorified rant of sorts haha so maybe I’ll update it soon.

As for Rook… Sigh. Rook Robins. What a character. You see, I can understand why he did it—and thankfully his decision actually led to the best possible outcome, but the fact that it might not have is what makes everyone (Alex included) extremely upset and betrayed. In my opinion, Alex handled the situation extremely well. She told Rook that what he had done was unforgivable; he risked the lives of those she had desperately tried to protect to preserve the lives of his father and the villagers. The best part about this is how Alex understands that. She understands why Rook did it, she just cannot help but feel betrayed because she put all her faith and trust in him just to be heartbroken to discover he used the knowledge she gifted him as a sword to stab her in the back. Yes, he didn’t want to hurt her, but he still did and that is what Alex finds unforgivable. She knows it was a difficult decision for him to make, and she knows that anyone faced with that scenario will most likely choose to betray someone else for the sake of their loved ones. She states this in her reasonings with Rook before she parts ways with him at the end of A Grimm Warning. She’s super, super aware, and she knows she both can and cannot blame him, so that’s why she decides that it would be better for them to part because of that conflict that will always reside within her. It’s difficult to keep a relationship going when someone does a betrayal so big that it risks the lives someone else went through so much to protect.

Honestly, how Alex handles this is how I would have also handled the situation. She acknowledges both sides of the argument, and she makes a decision based on how the future between them might look. She takes her position as the Fairy Godmother into account, and she looks at the different aspects of her feelings for Rook. He broke her heart by doing what she did, and she knew she couldn’t handle being with him during one of the most stressful times in her life going forward. Also, Rook downplaying what he did by saying it was a “bump in the road” relationship-wise shows that he doesn’t fully perceive the weight of the situation. He doesn’t understand how much could have changed based on that one decision he made, and that’s probably why Alex ended it right there and then with him instead of attempting to work on it. She knew he wasn’t going to have the depth of understanding she was, and if he could not meet her on that level then there was no chance of a resolution between them.

This whole situation is actually one of my favorites in the main series, because it shows a realness behind conflict in relationships. People have their own selfish reasons for doing things, but Alex shows us that you have to be willing to understand both yourself, how you’re feeling, and the two sides of the argument. She shows the importance of acknowledging why the other person did what they did, and also standing your ground by saying that it was unacceptable. Yes, mistakes can be made, but when they are of great magnitude it can be a complete deal-breaker, and I stand beside Alex’s decision. She went through the healthiest steps possible during that particular moment—especially considering it was right after her grandmother’s funeral when she was already super emotional and burden-heavy as it was. I have to stand with Alex’s decision on this one. Rook was very wrong to downplay the gravity of the situation, and she was right in correcting him and telling him that because he was viewing the situation as not pivotal in their relationship or deserving of massive consequences, he doesn’t deserve a relationship with her. She physically cannot trust him to take her most valuable possessions (her heart, her trust, her feelings, her hopes, her dreams, etc.) and expect him to value them. If that is how you are feeling about your relationship, then you need to really step back and reevaluate it. She did, and she knew it wouldn’t work out.

Unfortunately, I don’t enjoy Rook Robins that much. Yes, his sacrifice will always be valued with the utmost respect and gratitude, but at the end of the day he was too behind Alex maturity-wise to be in a relationship with her. And, even though he spent the rest of his time in the series attempting to figure out how to get back with her—which I will admit does go to show his determination as a character—he never allowed himself to truly understand things from her point of view, and Alex didn’t trust him to. That is why she would have never gotten back with him, despite how much he was pushing for a relationship with her. It comes off as a bit needy, and shows a few other red flags too.

Sorry this came out to be a really, really long answer. I just understand too much about the situation through analysis, and I’ve got a solidified stance on the matter. I just wanted to explain as much as possible for you so you could understand where I’m coming from. Thank you for the ask though! I’ve never really gotten to share my analysis of him before because everyone else kind of doesn’t like talking about him when it’s really important that we understand his character and how it’s so common to meet impactful people who betray us in life. The Land of Stories kind of teaches us how to consider all the facts before dealing with it, and that’s what I enjoy most—it’s a lesson I actively implement in my life to this day!

#ask me anything #the land of stories #rook robins #alex bailey #tlos

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tillylainne · 4 years ago

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I LOVE EPISODE 60

BTW THIS IS MOSTLY A THEORY SO DON’T ATTACK ME WHEN IM WRONG OKAY

Was the Boy Flustered?

In episode 21, Goh comments and praises Ash for him being mysterious and weird, but in a way that he admired those aspects of him. Ash’s response is genuine to his character; he’s humble and doesn’t pride himself on Goh's claims. And at the end of episode 60 his reaction is vastly different from his familiar one. To understand how this happened, we have to look at past episodes with the viable context necessary to create such a change, and also at the episode itself separately.

The Progress of Previous Episodes:

Episode 36 is where Ash’s dynamic with Goh begins to change, and most dramatically in episode 40 when Ash gives up his chances of battling Zapdos in favor of helping Goh gain assurance over his own battle. He understood how important this was for him, as Goh had helped him to during his times of tribulation to regain his confidence and remember who he is. In these two episodes, it’s the beginning of Ash reciprocating the same feelings Goh has towards him; in other words, they essentially switch roles to Ash becoming the observant one.

Ash had begun to show more desire to help Goh and overall more concern over him as well. For instance, an incredible analysis by Mudkip, states that Lucario can sense what the owner is feeling inside its heart. Coincidentally, Ash had been thinking of Goh in this moment filled with worry towards Goh, and anger towards the poachers. Most episodes past 46 have shown Ash being more understanding and concerned over him as well as validating his decisions immensely due to how much more aware he’s become of Goh

Ash being more perceptive of Goh:

I had mentioned Goh being an unreliable narrator before, and it’s very prevalent now how much Ash notices. At the end of episode 53, Goh makes the decision to leave behind Suicune, and Ash recognizes the disappointment he feels. He understands initially how important this was to him because such an extraordinary catch led him closer to his dream. Ash smiles endearingly at Goh knowing that he didn’t, and doesn’t have to make this choice.

Ash continues to take on the perceptive role in episode 59. Without Goh needing to say anything, Ash knew he was upset and what he was upset about. Goh only hopes that Grookey is okay, and leaves the next morning without Ash to go and find it. Ash, although believing it may be unlikely to find Team Rocket, follows Goh in his pursuit of Grookey. Throughout the episode we are reminded by Ash how he wouldn’t skip out on breakfast, but in this instance it didn’t matter to him; wherever Goh was heading and whatever choice Goh was going to make, Ash brought his breakfast with him intending to follow through no matter what decision he was going to make.

THIS GODDAMN EPISODE:

Episode 58 is a good example of concealing emotions with a mask. Ash once again understands that Goh is unhappy and becomes concerned. Goh says that it’s embarrassing to be holding his hand, but it’s possible that this scene had so much more nuance to it. His voice also becomes very soft and almost shaky, and with the Gulpin over his head, it’s hard to have a real idea of what he may look like underneath; we can deduct though, that this scene is very similar to two certain episodes. In episodes 52 and 53, we see how Goh reacts when trying to hide something. He didn’t know how tomatoes were grown so he turns away and lies/blushes. He doesn’t want to let go of Suicune and when Ash confronts him he tells him to be quiet and blushes. He’s holding Ash’s hand and he turns around because.. apparently it’s embarrassing, but when comparing the movement to these more recent episodes(and his character in general), you can’t take Goh’s word for it.

This scene is analogous to certain moments in episode 60 in relation to how it uses the familiarity of the scenario to remind the viewer of what is/should be expected.

Episode 60:

The episode opens with a training/fighting sequence between Ash and Goh, and the beginning uses a scene to establish what we’ve already come to know about the dialogue between the characters. The camera pans out not to disguise expressions, but rather reaffirm what we already know, which is that when Goh compliments Ash he directs that praise towards his Pokemon. This shot is used prominently throughout this episode particularly during this kind of interaction.

Ash and Goh encounter Rinto for the first time since episode 51, and their chat holds just as much tension as before. Rinto had previously mocked Ash, and upon knowing he’s participating in the World Championships, Goh becomes defensive on Ash’s behalf. He even begins boasting about their triumph of Knights medals.

Despite the training Ash and Kamonegi went through, it doesn’t prove to be enough at the moment as Ash becomes distressed over the situation. Rinto further insults them and their strategy. The voice direction is so sincere in expressing how livid Goh is towards Rinto being unnecessarily rude to the person he wants to support and protect; Goh’s absolutely offended when his anger is pressed further by acknowledging how Rinto is only playing with him.

When Ash wins, Goh is wholeheartedly excited over the situation and they use that camera shot once again to emphasize what we know. Goh has been Ash’s biggest cheerleader throughout the series, and especially throughout this episode, and we don’t need to see their faces up close to know their expressions.

How the use of the camera shot is used again though, is rather peculiar. The compliments were initially geared towards Negigaknight, but when redirected to Ash, about Ash, we see him utterly stunned. The camera pans out once again not to show familiarity of the situation, but cleverly to mask something just like episode 58 did with the Gulpin. When watching the scene, Ash straightens up and stumbles over his answer instead of directing the compliment towards someone else.

Compare the episode to 7, 18, and 25 to how Ash usually replies to Goh, and contrast the finale of episode 60. When Goh directly compliments Ash in 18 and 25, he laughs it off and points the kudos at Gengar, Pikachu, and Dragonite. And this isn’t isolated to episode 60 either, because 5 episodes later the same thing happens. Goh congratulates Ash on his battle, but once Goh tells him to keep up that momentum Ash doesn’t respond and just stares at him; it is very unlike Ash and there’s a point at which something had begun to change. Ash’s answer in episode 60 is very unlike, and dare I say he was nervous, AND flustered during this scene.

Does this really mean anything? Of course not it’s just a theory a gay theory. I just find it really odd and suspicious that Ash would exemplify such a reaction the first time I watched it, I raised an eyebrow having to double back making sure I watched that correctly xD

Anyways I’m probably overanalyzing but goddammit I rewatched this series not too long ago and couldn’t help myself

#SatoGou #journeyshipping #gouacheshipping #Firstfriendshipping #gou x ash #ash x gou #pokemon journeys

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

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Diving Bell - Andy Barber smut

The one where Andy has been a patient librarian, but now that you’ve accepted his advances...

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, dubcon, (andy pushes the relationship into boundaries that weren’t previously consented), age gap, (reader is over eighteen and in college), semi-public sex, somewhat of an exhibitionism kink, oral (f), andy’s definitely dark but reader is generally into it, she just doesn’t know what “it” will be, dirty talk

Word count: 3k<

A/N: this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. Hope you guys like it!

Reader’s P.O.V.

My face burned and I wondered how I hadn’t spontaneously combusted from how hot I felt under the hot new librarian’s gaze. Sure, the girls had warned me about it - I’d hear so much about him, in fact, that I was sure I’d be disappointed when I actually did manage to meet him.

Boy, was I wrong.

He was the definition of daddy, luscious beard and hair just begging to be pulled and I could feel the burn his jaw would leave behind if he deposited kisses down my neck - or better yet, on the insides of my thighs - but he was at least twenty years older than me.

There was absolutely no way I’d ever catch his attention. Not when so many girls had tried to get in his pants - girls hotter than me - and had failed miserably, as I’d been told time and time again from the very same seductresses.

So I saw absolutely no point in trying. Although, one could very well admire, right? Also, fantasize couldn’t do any harm, not even to my extremely vulnerable pride. It’s not like I could control it, anyway.

But another thing I couldn’t control was his effect on me. The way my whole body warmed up when I felt his eyes on it, how I couldn’t immediately focus on his words whenever he addressed me. I even stopped coming to the library to study because 1) I couldn’t concentrate with him around and 2) his presence had brought a whole new wave of first-time library users, and seeing as their interests weren’t on the actual books, they tended to be extremely loud.

Once essays started to get assigned though, there wasn’t much I could do. I had to get back to the library, and so I chose to go when it was already dark, hoping he wouldn’t pick up that shift, and knowing most frat girls would be at an impromptu Thursday-night party to celebrate (once again) the start of classes.

I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just throw a party for the sake of partying. Did they have to reuse the same excuse, over and over again? It’s not like anyone cared. I certainly didn’t, and the people who went for the free beer didn’t care about anything just as long as the alcohol kept flowing.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startled me, almost making me drop the pile of books I’d been gathering. Even though there was no way I’d confuse him with someone else, I still looked over my shoulder to make sure it was really him, that he was actually there, staring at me with those caring warm brown eyes.

“S-should I be anywhere else?” I tried to sass, even if my own voice gave me away. He chuckled though, extending a hand to help me with the load in my arms, and although I hesitated for a second, I ended up accepting his help. It was his job, after all. This couldn’t really be considered flirting, right?

“I don’t know. I’ve heard about this party tonight, figured you’d be there.” Frowning, I finally turned to stare at him directly in the eyes, almost immediately regretting my decision. Damn, he looked good.

“How do you know about the party?” I asked, and his lips immediately curled up, trying to contain a smile from stretching over his face.

“Some girls may or may not have invited me to meet them there.” Clicking my tongue, I decided to look back at the bookshelf, instead of paying him any more attention.

“Why? Are you jealous?” The question felt too much like something a fuckboy my age might ask me at a party, not a forty-year-old man who worked a full-time job. When I turned to look at him again, eyebrows raised high, he chuckled.

“Sorry, that’s not usually my style… I’m just at a loss of ways to get you to notice me, that’s all.” Well, now I was beyond shocked.

“Why do you want me to notice you?” I asked, utterly confused, but Andy just laughed, shaking his head at me like he was profoundly amused by my ways.

“I always notice when you’re around. Even worse, I always notice when you aren’t.” And then, as he looked around like he wanted to make sure other people wouldn’t hear him, he leaned over me and confessed, “It gets pretty lonely here without you.”

The accompanying wink almost gave me a heart attack. Stuttering out something even though I didn’t know what to say, I moved away from the bookshelf in search of the nearest table, finding it thankfully empty.

When I turned around to look for him again, he was right by my side.

“I don’t get it,” I managed to admit once my arms were book-free. “We’ve talked like twice. You helped me find books, I acted like a fool. You weren’t supposed to flirt with me, why aren’t you interested in the college girls who actually hit on you?”

He raised his eyebrows before frowning, hands deep in his pockets as he stared down at me in all of his height. “Have you ever considered… that I just don’t want them?”

The insinuation stirred something deep inside of me, leaving me flushed and overall a mess. Stumbling out an apology, I gathered my stuff and left as quickly as possible, determined to process what had happened that evening by myself, so it could actually feel real and I could decide what to do from then on.

But something changed ever since that evening. I stopped trying to run away from him and started to actively go to the library in the times I knew he was there, at first still avoiding him and looking away every time he caught me staring, silently grateful that he didn’t try to force me to open up to him.

His patience was rewarded when in a few weeks, I began to talk to him again. Asking him for book recommendations, never anything other than what was strictly related to his job, but the way his eyes glinted knowingly at me warned me that he did understand where my mind was at.

It didn’t take long for him to start flirting with me, and from then on, I slowly accepted his advances and even began to eagerly wait for them.

I smiled widely when I heard his low whistle, admiring the way he looked in that comfortable sweater as he put away the books he was holding to fully give me all of his attention.

“Well, don’t you look incredible?” He asked as I twirled so he could fully see the dress I’d put on just for him. “Did you dress up for me, pretty girl? Because I like to think that you did.”

Biting my lower lip, I tried to gather the courage I’d been trying to build up all week, before finally nodding and admitting, “Yes, I did.” From the stupefied look on his face, it didn’t seem like he was expecting that. Even worse, I wasn’t expecting the outcome of my little attempt to flirt back.

“I’m going to kiss you now.” And that was all the warning I got before his hands cradled my face and he took my mouth in his, kissing me breathless, leaving me aching and soaked when he finally released me.

I was panting by the time he let go of my lips, and he smiled softly at me as he brushed over my cheekbones, saying, “You know… if you ever need anything… You know I’m always here to help.”

Andy’s P.O.V.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” My own smile denounced just how much of her intentions I already knew, from how well I knew her. Her late-night visits to the library had become more and more frequent, and I couldn’t say that I hated it.

“I don’t know,” she feigned nonchalance, shrugging while perusing the bookshelves before looking back at me from over her shoulder. “The hot new librarian in charge of the night shift has told me he was always available to help me with anything I needed, and I’ve been needing a distraction.”

My chuckle was low, in order not to interrupt the few students still trying to finish whatever assignment they were working on, but she heard it. I watched as she shivered at the sound of my voice, prompting me to lick my lips at the powerful reaction I could so easily elicit from her.

“You didn’t use to be so blunt,” I teased, remembering how she used to come in here looking for me, only to run away at the last second. It was adorable. Ever since I started working at this university, it wasn’t unusual for college girls to come in groups and watch me from a distance, their giggles whenever I glanced at them unmistakable in the almost completely silent environment. Eventually, one or two would always break away from the group and try to flirt while their friends became a captive audience, but I was quick to shut them down.

They weren’t the one I wanted. She was standing in front of me now, pretending to be interested in a random book, biting her lower lip to keep a smile from spreading over her face. “Do you miss it?”

There was something undeniably attractive by her shyness back then, her inability to ask me for information or even sustain my gaze, but now that I knew what it was like to have her meet my eyes, now that I’d had the luxury of hearing her speak, of getting to know the intricacies of her mind, how could I miss what was, back then, a stranger?

“Not at all.” Her laughter, even subdued because of the place we were in, was enough to have my stomach doing backflips. I had to smile, instinctively getting closer to her, just like a moth, drawn to a flame.

“I want to do dirty, dirty things to you,” I admitted, one hand on the back of her head as I pressed her against the bookshelf, my lips just over her ear as my beard undoubtedly tickled her neck. “Can’t very well protect my soul if I’m still thinking about you as an innocent little thing, now can I?”

Her eyes dropped down to my lips before meeting mine again, and just like that, I had all the authorization I needed to connect our lips and kiss her breathless. Humming in delight against her quiet neediness, her eagerness to open her lips, welcome my tongue with hers, I blindly moved us further towards the back of the library, relaxed in the knowledge that amongst taxidermia books no one would come to check on us.

Not that I cared all that much if they did.

“Hm… Want me, sweetheart?” I pressed, needing to hear her say it, taking sick pleasure in knowing this came from her, this was her own desire. She almost didn’t answer me, eyelids heavily pressing her eyes closed when our mouths parted, but in the absence of my touch on her, she jolted.

“Yeah, I do! I do, I do…” She insisted, pressing herself against me, feeling just how badly I wanted her too. It made her gasp, witnessing how hard she had made me - she didn’t know it yet, but it’d been this way ever since the first day.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” I whispered, just to see the way goosebumps took over her flesh while I got rid of her underwear, moving us towards an empty table where I could lay her out to take.

“No, I don’t want you to stop,” she moaned when she saw me leaning over to kiss between her legs, eyes still connected to hers until she closed them to throw her head back, overtaken by the sensation of my warm tongue slipping between her folds. It was better that way, she wouldn’t see the dangerous smirk that denounced that she would come to regret her words before I was done with her.

She tasted just as sweet as I always imagined her to. So wet already, it was clear she was desperate for me. The cock straining against my pants reminded me I couldn’t be too cocky about it - I wanted her just as badly.

“C’mon, honey…” I teased, dipping my tongue in her hole as my thumb frantically rubbed her tiny clit. “Give me more, I want more.” I needed her to cum before I could shove my cock into her. It was important.

The sudden tension of her thighs denounced the arrival of her orgasm, and where usually I’d love nothing more than to keep licking her, delighting myself with her taste and overstimulating her sweet body until she was crying, there was only so much I could take tonight.

“There you go,” I complimented when she easily succumbed to my directions, having turned her around and laid her with her stomach on the table, legs dangling off of it. “Want to feel me now, pretty girl? Want me to fill you now?”

Her answer was a whine as her hips searched for mine. She was offering herself to me, the innocent little thing. Didn’t know I’d take her regardless of it.

I had the instinct of slapping my hand over her mouth as I penetrated her, and so her moan came out muffled. I could still understand a breathless, “so good…” being uttered against my palm, and it only made me bite down on my lip harder, so my own sounds wouldn’t reverberate across the silent library.

It was a twisted kind of pleasure to hold her arms back as I fucked her roughly but as silently as possible, trying not to make the table squeak so it wouldn’t draw attention to us. Even though I didn’t particularly care if someone did find us - I wouldn’t stop fucking her if God himself tried to intervene - I’d prefer to reach my goal without unwanted interferances.

So I was glad she didn’t seem to mind the fact that anyone could easily look our way and see us fucking. Had I really tempted her that much, that she would let me do whatever I wanted to her body, just as long as I fucked her?

Guess I was about to find out.

“Do you know how many times I masturbated in the back room, thinking about this sweet pussy?” I asked, voice raspy with desire as I kept jackhammering her as quietly as possible, but probably failing to do so in the midst of my arousal. “To think I finally have it now, wrapped around my dick…” My voice faltered as I realized all of my dreams were about to come true, right at that moment.

“Can’t wait to fuck my cum back into you, sweetheart. I’m gonna keep you so full from now on.” I felt her body tense underneath my fingers as she processed my words, but it was too late for her now. My hand still over her mouth, I stopped her from screaming or fighting me in any way.

“Just relax, honey. Doesn’t it feel so good?” I mocked, fucking her harder and harder as my control slipped from me. “It feels good for me, too. So now you’ll have to take it.”

Reaching around for her clit, I started rubbing it in quick little motions, desperate to feel her cunt clenching around me once more, milking my cum.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Cum again for me. Let me keep making you feel good as you do the same for me.” Her orgasm had her legs raising between mine, right when I started to spill inside of her, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Once I was sure she wouldn’t scream, I took my hand away and pushed her back against the desk, massaging her ass eagerly, hoping it would take.

“You’ll look so good all round with my child.” Once I pulled my cock from her, I made sure to adjust her underwear so it would stop my cum from flowing, massaging the damp tissue with a smug expression.

She managed to turn around in my embrace, blinking confusedly, mouth opening and closing as if she couldn’t quite figure out what she wanted to say, and I cooed at her adorableness.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you and the little one.” I rubbed my hand over where she would soon grow, licking my lips at the mental image of her pregnant. God, why did that make me so hard?

“You can trust me,” I assured her, pulling her closer to I could kiss her forehead, before adjusting her body so it rested on mine. I knew there were tears rolling down her cheeks, but it was just from her coming down from the adrenaline high. She wanted this. She just needed to be able to think clearly to see just how perfect this would be. “We’ll be so happy together.”

#tw dubcon #My 2k challenge #my fics #andy barber smut #librarian au #andy barber #smut #andy barber x reader #andy barber reader #andy barber reader insert #andy barber reader inserts #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you

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i-kvr · 2 years ago

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He's a Butcher with a Smile (Ivy Chronicles #4)

[x] [Full work available on AO3] << #1: A7 | << #2: The Bet | << #3: A7 #4: He's a Butcher with a Smile

_______________________________________________

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Minho, Thomas

Summary: Based on the song Tear in My Heart, by Twenty One Pilots.

_______________________________________________

Sometimes you gotta bleed to know

I believe people say that when you’re close to your death, you see your life flash before your eyes. I don’t have a clear memory of hearing anyone in particular say that, of course, but I feel like I can almost remember this being true. And I must say I discovered this saying to be very real.

that you’re alive and have a soul

When I stepped into the Maze and heard the loud thud of the Doors closing behind me, it was like I could feel my senses getting sharper. Immediately after making the decision I was at the verge of regretting it, but at the first glance around I remembered why I made it.

But it takes someone to come around

He was there, gasping, staring at me in disbelief. “You’re as good as dead,” he told me. He was probably right. I wanted to convince myself that I didn’t care, that it didn’t matter, that it didn’t scare me. It did scare me.

to show you how

But I couldn’t leave him there, I just couldn’t. I didn’t think, I just acted. He was the one person that made me feel alive ever since I got out of that Box. When I woke up in the dark container, all I could feel was numbness. But he broke me out of it. He made me want to leave that place more than anything else. Probably because I wanted to see him out of that hell.

He's the tear in my heart, I'm alive

I hadn’t been stung at that point yet, but I felt like I could understand the oddness in those who had been through the Changing. The numbness, the disinterest in life. They just went by, carrying their own weight, just trying to get by another day. Who’s to judge? There isn’t much in life in the Glade to make you enthusiastic about living. But I had found something. Someone. I felt alive when I was with him; I wanted to live. So yes, maybe I was as good as dead when I stepped into the Maze at the last second, but if he was to die while I survived for another day in the Glade… a day without him… The very thought strengthened my resolve.

He's the tear in my heart, I'm on fire

In a way, he got me out of the Maze more than I got him out. He was the one who made me have it in me to get us through that night. It was all for him. And he continued to do it after that night. When we left the Maze altogether; when we discovered that the real world we wanted to come back to so badly didn’t exist anymore; when we faced those endless miles of burning Scorch; when it dawned upon us that we would have to cross it.

He's the tear in my heart, take me higher

Each step I took, with each burning breath I took in, burning my insides, it was all possible because I had him by my side. All I needed to do was look at him, and see him looking back at me and I had strength to take one more step forward. All it took was seeing his smile, like nothing was wrong, like all was well in the world. He had that power.

Than I’ve ever been

It still wonders me how he managed to do that. How he could stay calm, or at least seem to be calm. He never admitted, but I know deep inside that he made himself look calm for the group’s sake. For my sake. He knew he had to be a solid rock so the group wouldn’t fall apart. I’ll never stop being thankful to him for carrying that weight.

My heart is my armor

I couldn’t help feeling guilty when I failed to be strong with him. It wasn’t fair that he should be the strong one for the group all the time and I got to be weak with him in our night watches. I tried to tell myself that by always volunteering to stand guard with him to help him stay awake I was doing my part, but deep down I know that I was just craving an opportunity of being alone just the two of us, and that I was just dying to hear him say “Thomas, you know you need to be strong with me.”

“I should be,” I confessed one time.

“No, you should listen to me, and I’m telling you that I don’t want you to be strong.”

“It’s not fair that you have to be strong alone.”

“I’m not alone.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. But it’s just how it is. Soon we’ll be at the Safe Haven and then I’ll be able to be weak, alright? Don’t worry.”

“Are you really scheduling when you’ll be weak? Just like that? Are you sure that lightning didn’t hit you square in the head?” I said slapping him lightly on the shoulder.

“Don’t go running your mouth like that, I’m still the leader of this group, y’know? I still can banish you,” he said, giving me a slap back on my shoulder, but he rested his hand there and caressed it for a moment before continuing. “You already do a lot just by staying here with me every night.”

“I should do more.”

“Stop.”

I stopped.

“I need you well,” he said. After I didn’t reply, “Alright?”

“Alright,” I murmured a bit reluctantly.

He's the tear in my heart, he's a carver

He really was for me the embodiment of that feeling I had back in that terrifying night in the Maze. Stepping into the Maze I had the feeling that, in the face of death, I was more alive. He did that to me, in a way. He was my weakness. The thought of looking around and not seeing him scared me more than the Crank that wanted to cut off my nose. He came into my life like a knife cutting my heart open, and that strangely made me strive to find more strength in me because, looking at him, I knew I couldn’t let myself let him down.

That’s why being in those tunnels, away from him, was the scariest part of all this journey. The very thought of reuniting with the group and discovering that something had happened almost made me fall to the ground. Each Crank we encountered was a reminder of that possibility and that was what made them so scary.

He's a butcher with a smile, cut me farther

For that reason, I’m never tired of repeating that the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen was Minho materializing at the doorstep to that dirty basement, all covered in blood, holding a knife in each hand. With all the begging for me to stop telling that story to anyone who cares to listen around the Safe Haven, I know he likes to hear me repeat it. It’s a very fitting image, too. That’s how he came into my life figuratively back in the Glade: cutting me deep and making me bleed; and then at that moment in the Scorch, he embodied the role in a more literal way: knives and blood all over.

Than I've ever been

_______________________________________________ [x] << #1: A7 | << #2: The Bet | << #3: A7 #4: He's a Butcher with a Smile

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pregnant-piggy · 4 years ago

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The Crow’s Nest

The Crows x reader

words: 12.1k

warnings: underage drinking, fire, character death, guns

A/N: am I slowly indoctrinating you with my pirate obsession? perhaps... ;) this is based on a dream I had while reading the first book and it wouldn’t leave me until I had written it. Let me know what you think of it! <3

translations (part real languages, part fictional):

Teufel -- devil

Fortell meg -- tell me

Jer elsker pe -- I love you

Faen -- fuck, damn

Goede morgen -- good morning

The grey waves hit against the hull of The Teufel, rocking the ship back and forth in the restless water. The howling wind creeped around every corner, finding even the warmest spots to cool the air and sparing no one from its breeze. The old sails fluttered in the force of the wind and loud slaps could be heard whenever the canvas hit against the mast. Little raindrops were falling from the sky, creating a layer of damp on everything in the open.

Thunder sounded far away in the sky, back in the open sea, but The Teufel was going the other way. Kerch was approaching steadily and if the winds didn’t turn suddenly, the ship would reach land before the sun had fully set.

The coastline of Ketterdam, the city The Teufel would arrive at, was peculiar with its high buildings and built-up streets. The lights of the city lit up the sky like an orange halo in the darkening heavens.

You leaned with two arms on the railing of the ship, watching the city approach over the water. Behind you the strongest members of the crew were working on the sails, steering the schooner into the right direction. You listened to the shouts and orders with half an ear, imagining what the city of Ketterdam would be like and where you would go after the ship had moored. Unlike many of the older ones in the crew you had never been to Kerch before. In the last two years The Teufel hadn’t gotten close to the island, finding enough profit near the coasts of Novyi Zem. Three weeks ago, however, the captain had ordered to turn the sails and head South, much to your delight.

Your entire life you had heard stories about Kerch. When you were very little, you had asked your grandmother over and over again to tell you about her trips to Ketterdam. Though you had been too young to understand most of what her stories meant, you had adored how your grandma was able to take you to a different world with her words only. It was a gift that you most admired and one that she had passed on to you.

Your parents passed away in a futile attempt to protect the town against the brutality of the land’s council. You had been just seven years old and the surviving neighbours hadn’t known what to do with you, so you had been sent to a boarding school in the countryside. Far away from the danger of the city they’d said, but you had known it was just to get rid of you. You had grown up in a strict environment, in a house full of stern teachers and meek children. But even there you hadn’t forgotten about your grandmother’s stories. Although the students thought you were odd, they would all gather around you in the sleeping hall after midnight when the teachers were to bed and you would tell them a story the same way your grandma had told them to you.

The older you had gotten the more trouble you’d seemed to cause. Obeying the rules had soon proven not to be something for you, at least not when you thought the rules were useless. With every year you’d grown older, you had found more ways to plant mischief. The punishments had gotten harder every time but you had refused to bend to their rules. Eventually they had been the one to give up and they had kicked you out of the school. At the age of fourteen you had been a homeless orphan only good for trouble.

For weeks you had travelled on your own and you had ended up at the harbour, where you had stumbled upon The Teufel. At first the captain had refused to take you on; he had no use for a child. It had been your talent to speak Kerch, Ravkan and a little bit of Fjerdan that had gotten you on board the ship that would become your new home.

For the past two years you had travelled along with the crew, learning to live on the ocean. Not a moment you had regretted your decision. The crew had accepted you as part of their family. The captain, Nerseh, had taken you on as his own daughter, learning you the tricks of maintaining a crew. Mayranoush, the quartermaster, was a strict woman who had at first scared you because she had seemed to be so much like your teachers at the boarding school. After a while you had gotten used to her, however, and it was from her that you had learnt how to shoot and how to read people’s faces like an open book. From the sailing master you learned how to read maps and the gunners had tried to teach you how to aim, but you had never mastered that skill. Stefan had taught you how to fight with a sword, Marina taught you the ropes and Hai learned you basic first aid and other cures that were necessary in combat.

In two years you had learned enough to make yourself useful on the ship and you had grown from just their translator to a valuable member of the crew. The Teufel was your home and you could not think of a better place for you.

“Are you excited?” Stefan stood next to you and followed your gaze to the skyline of Ketterdam.

You tore your eyes from the city and looked at the big blond man with his bright blue eyes. When you first stepped on the ship he was the first one of the crew to approach you and you had been surprised by the Fjerdan’s conviviality. Your teachers had always taught you that the people from Fjerda were cold and distant. But ten minutes spent in Stefan’s company proved all of that wrong. He had guided you in your first weeks and now he was your best friend, and your first friend.

“I am,” you nodded. “I’ve been dreaming about this place since I was a toddler. I can’t wait to see what it's like.”

Stefan smiled at you and leaned down on the railing next to you, his arm against yours. A warm feeling washed over you and sparkles shot through your upper body. The wind had died down to a light breeze and your hair wavered behind your neck as the wind blew directly into your face. A scent of smoke, burned sugar and oil filled your nose and you closed your eyes, taking in the smell and registering the different scents. This was the essence that your grandmother had talked about and now you were experiencing it yourself.

When you opened your eyes you noticed that Stefan was watching you intently. You smiled and raised one arm from the railing so you could turn to him. He wanted to say something to you, you could see it in his face. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he stammered, his pale cheeks blossoming red immediately.

“Fortell meg, Fjerdan,” you ordered Stefan to tell you and, though you didn’t think it was possible, his cheeks got even redder.

The big, blushing man looked away from you and cleared his throat. His gaze was pointed at his feet and then he turned it to the horizon. The wind was playing with the blond curls of his hair, that looked golden in the light of the setting sun. He cleared his throat again and then he mumbled something.

“I can’t hear you, doofus,” you laughed and nudged your shoulder against Stefan’s arm. “A little louder, please.”

Stefan sighed and turned his head to look at you. He took a deep breath and placed his hand on your upper arm. The feeling of his warm hand on your bare arm made your heart flutter. Your lips parted and you sucked in a little breath.

“Jer elsker pe,” Stefan whispered. I love you.

Your heart stopped. The pulse in your chest disappeared for a moment and when your heart beat again, it did twice as hard. Stefan was no Heartrender but you were sure he could hear your heartbeat too.

“Stefan, I—” you started, taking Stefan’s other hand in yours.

However before you could go on, Captain Nerseh appeared from his hut and started shouting over the main deck. “Stefan! I need you up front!” Nerseh said and he walked to the forecastle deck, ordering the rest of the crew on his way. Stefan was still standing in front of you, your hands holding his but his face turned to the captain. This one turned around. “Now, please!”

The Fjerdan let go of you and hurried away, leaving you on your own. You held onto the railing for support as you felt your weight shift to your legs. All the excitement you had felt just mere minutes ago had now completely vanished and you looked around panicky. Not even a lifetime on sea could have prepared you for that.

-=-=-

The Jolly Roger was changed for a neutral flag with the colours of Novyi Zem and The Teufel navigated into the Fifth Harbour of Ketterdam. Once the anchor had been lowered and the ship lay still, a small party was sent out to get stock while the others were free to go wherever they wanted.

Stefan was sent with the quartermaster, Mayranoush, and Hai for food and ammunition and he was off the schooner before you could follow him. You watched him leave the Harbour, standing on the main deck. His blonde hair shone in the last rays of sunshine and he was visible for a long time, until his figure disappeared in the bigger crowd. Gone before you could talk to him.

“I want y'all back at twelve bells,” Captain Nerseh said and he waved the rest of the crew off.

Hesitantly you walked off The Teufel onto the docks. The first few steps were wobbly and uneven, as it had been a few weeks since you had last walked on land, but after shaking your feet and legs, you got used to walking again. Those familiar tingles, that you always got when walking on shore after so long on sea, shot through your legs and you were filled with a mix of anxiety and excitement.

Here on land the scent was even stronger, luring you into the streets. You glanced back at The Teufel over your shoulder and shrugged off the uneasy feeling you got at the thought of leaving your home behind in the harbour. Pulling up your boots a little, you turned away and stepped into the city, finally experiencing what you had dreamed of for so long.

The streets of Ketterdam were unlike any other place you had ever been. Big crowds of tourists and inhabitants were moving as one through the small streets of the Lid. Men, women and children all walked through each other, barely taking notice of the persons passing them. The lights coming through the shop windows casted yellow and white shapes on the cobblestoned ground, with which the shadows of the people danced.

You followed the crowd into the buzzing parts of town, falling in step with the other tourists. Many years ago your grandmother had told you that the Lid was filled with gambling houses and it was the place where the most tourists stuck around. And indeed, as you walked on the crowd gradually got thinner with people leaving right and left to fall into the temptation of the colourful buildings decorated with bright lights. Faint music combined with the loud chatter of people in all languages hung in the salty air, like a blanket that was thrown over this part of the city.

However, all that you could think of was Stefan’s face and his words. Jer elsker pe. In a haze you walked through the busy streets, hearing Stefan’s voice over and over in your head. His touch was imprinted on your skin, the place where his hand had been was burning hot on your arm.

You had known, that was the worst part. For a few weeks you had known. You had sensed it whenever he was looking at you or when he was touching you. The look on his face was different from before. There had been a softness on the Fjerdan’s face that hadn’t been there before. A weakness. It was an undeliberate thought, but it made its way in your mind anyway. If the past ten years of your life had taught you one thing it was that you had to hide your weaknesses. From enemies and friends.

It had been a particular hot night at the boarding school and you hadn’t been able to sleep. That day a new girl had arrived at the school and she’d sat down next to you at breakfast. Many of the others had scowled at her but she had ignored them and instead introduced herself as Lotty. It was the first time that someone had voluntarily come to you and the rest of the day you had spent getting Lotty familiar with the school and its surroundings.

You’d heard the girl stirring next to you and padded over to her. Upon seeing your face, a smile had spread on Lotty’s face and you had whispered: “Want to get out of here?”

Very cautiously you and Lotty had left the sleeping hall and on your toes you had run through the empty corridors of the school building. All the teachers had been asleep already and the big clock in the hall had showed that it was two hours after midnight.

The front door had opened with a small squeak and the dark night air had welcomed you and Lotty outside. The gardens of the boarding school surrounded the entire building with grass, flowers and low bushes. A sweet, humid scent had hung in the air, the result of the sun that had shone on the flowers all day.

You and Lotty had sat down in the middle of a flower bed and you had told her about everything. For the first time in your life you’d felt like you had a friend and you had trusted her with some of the secrets you knew about the school’s building. For hours you two had sat outside, until the sun had started to rise and the petals of the flowers had started to collect the morning humidity. As you had gotten up, you’d put your hand on the ground to push yourself up and you felt something crawl under your palm. You had squealed and stumbled back quickly, staring in disgust at the place where you had put your hand. There on the ground a thick spider had quickly crawled away under the flowers.

Lotty’d started to laugh and you had scolded her. Spiders had always scared you and no matter how much you’d tried to get over it, whenever you saw one you couldn’t help but shudder.

Back at the sleeping hall you had fallen into a restless sleep for the last few hours, dreaming of a thousand legs and jaws. When you’d woken up, Lotty hadn’t been there and at breakfast she had sat with the other children, not with you.

The next morning you had woken up with something crawling up your arm and the sound of laughter.

And now Stefan had shown you his weakness. Though you would never use it against him like Lotty had done to you, there was something that bothered you now you knew his weakness. What if unintentionally you would cause him trouble or danger?

“Watch where you’re going!” a man sneered and he roughly pushed past you.

You shook your head out of your thoughts and looked around. The bright gambling dens had been replaced by small, tall and crooked houses made by all different sorts of bricks and wooden beams for support. The streets were still busy but this was a different crowd. People with comical masks and cloaks moved in little groups, quickly and rushed, as if they were afraid someone would stop them. A few people wore gaudy suits and moved proudly over the streets, their hands in their pockets. The others wore more ragged clothes in dark colours and they walked with their heads down to the ground.

You were in the Barrel, undoubtedly. The gambling houses were still there, but more scattered. Still they weren’t much different from the ones on the Lid; a lot of dramatic lightning and flashing colours, all so that the most people would come in.

The East Stave was on your left. You had refused ever to step foot near the brothels on the West Stave. The horrid stories that your grandmother had told you had already been enough to keep you away and the rumours you had heard from the crew on The Teufel had only added to that.

Your legs were getting tired from walking so much and the unnerving thoughts were still whirling through your head. On The Teufel you would have searched for Stefan and gotten drunk with him hidden somewhere on the deck, but Stefan wasn’t here and The Teufel was far back in the harbour. So instead you searched for the least ostentatious building and eventually settled on a gambling club called the Crow Club.

A silver crow hung over the entrance of the club and you looked up to it as you walked under it, entering the building. You stepped into a big hall that was parted in two by a lowered floor in the back. The black lacquered walls had no windows and all sense of night and day was lost as soon as you stepped inside. The little clock around your neck told you it was little after ten bells. That meant that you had one hour and a half before you had to go back.

You sat on one of the crimson stools at the bar and ordered a drink from the man behind it. He eyed you for a moment and you noticed he was contemplating whether to give someone your age a drink, but he seemed to decide that profit is profit and poured you a drink. You watched him while he worked for a moment. He was not as old as you had thought him to be. The only wrinkles in his face were near the corners of his mouth and the cracks next to his eyes. His skin was dark bronze and his hair pitch black, almost like the walls around him. And what he lacked in height he seemed to be making up in strength, as his arms were muscular and he looked strong enough to throw a man twice his size out of the place.

The drink burned in your throat, but you threw it all in anyway. For a moment your gullet was on fire and the next moment it was gone. The years among a group of adult pirates had learned you how to take your drinks.

You asked the bartender for another and you didn’t miss the surprise on his face, but turned the other way, looking at the parlor around you. Most of the tables in the lower part of the room were occupied by a variety of people. In the left corner of the room sat a couple, their feet entangled under the table, but their eyes fanatically looking at the other.

At a table closer to you sat a woman in a bright red dress with feathers in her hair. From your place you could see the cards in her hand and if you stretched your neck a little you could also see the cards of her neighbour. The table was playing Ridderspel, a simple card game played with the lower numbers of the cards. It was a game to make little money quickly and one of the most played card games in gambling houses everywhere.

The woman had two sevens, an eight and a four of the crow-marked cards in her hand and she pushed forward four little red chips when the dealer asked to place the bets. Her neighbour pushed forward two grey chips and the man opposite of her one grey and one red one. The dealer collected the chips and stacked them in the middle of the table.

On The Teufel you had played many games of Ridderspel with the crew. However, after a while they had banned you from playing games for money. It hadn’t taken long for you to see connections between the faces of people and their cards. You could see a pattern in the order they played their cards and knew after showing the first card of the game who would win.

It had started with Ridderspel. One dark night under the light of a lantern you had been playing the game with Stefan and two others of the crew, Vinay and Cilka, when you had noticed that whenever Cilka got her cards the lightest frown would form on her face if she didn’t get good cards. It was invisible to anyone else, but you saw how her eyebrows would twitch shortly. You knew that everyone had their tells, some more obvious than others, but after that night you had searched the others’ signs. Vinay’s shoulders would slump a little if he had bad cards and Stefan’s eyes would flicker shortly over the table if his cards were good.

After you had learned their signs, you’d noticed that there was a pattern in the way they played their cards. If they had bad cards, they played the highest first, hoping to at least get a little out of the game. If they had good cards, they would hold their highest cards for the end, but they wouldn’t play their lowest card first either. It was a complicated strategy, a difficult trick on your mind, but after months of examining the game, both playing and from afar, you found the pattern. From there on it wasn’t difficult to find the patterns in other games and soon you were banned from playing games on the entire ship.

However, whenever you were on land and there was a gambling house in the city, the crew would often ask you if you could just play some games so they could get some money. You knew that with you playing at the table the game wasn’t fair anymore, but you would do it night after night if that meant you could do something for your crew.

Now, you knew that the woman in red had a good chance of winning the game. She tapped her fingers on her thigh and kept staring at her cards. So much for a bluffing face. The dealer asked to play the first card and the woman threw one of her sevens on the table. Not the highest and not the lowest. Her neighbours answered by throwing an eight and a five.

The next round was played and now the woman played her four, receiving another eight and a seven. She is playing out her opponents. If they wanted to win, they would have to change the course, but you feared it was already too late for them. The woman threw her eight on the table and the others a seven and a five. The last card was played and at her seven, the woman got a six and a four.

As the dealer started to count the points you turned away; you didn’t need to count the points to know that the woman in the red dress had won the game.

“Another one, please,” you said to the barman in Kerch and he nodded at you. Curiosity could be read off his face even by those who didn’t have your talent of understanding facial expressions.

When he gave you your glass his eyes lingered on your clothes and you realised how idiotic you must look in this environment. Though the people in the hall weren’t all wearing evening dresses or three-piece suits, you knew that someone in a black jacket and leather boots to their knees would stand out. Consciously you stroke a hand over the braids in your hair and looked at the bartender.

“Don’t worry,” he said as he noticed your looks. “Many tourists come dressed up.”

You tilted your head to the side and hesitated telling him the truth. Figuring there wouldn’t come much trouble from doing so, you sat up and shook your head. “These are my normal clothes.”

The barkeeper cocked an eyebrow and then went on with cleaning the glasses. You stared at the brown liquid in your glass before you knocked it back and softly placed your glass back on the bar. The movement caught the attention of the man behind the bar and he lifted the bottle, silently asking if you wanted another one.

“Sure,” you answered and pushed your glass forward.

The way the man filled the glass reminded you of how Stefan used to fill your glass. While you preferred to drink straight from the bottle, he would always insist on taking glasses from the galley.

“We can at least pretend we’re fancy,” he’d say, as you were hidden in the shadows of the back of the ship.

A faint smile played on your lips as you thought back of Stefan, but your inside burned as you heard his last words back in your head. Jer elsker pe. The truth was that you weren’t quite sure if you loved Stefan back. He had always been close to you and you appreciated him being such a good friend to you, but you didn’t love him the way he loved you. At least, that’s what you thought. You had never really experienced love before, so how could you know what it felt like?

“Maybe you should slow on those,” the bartender said as you placed yet another empty glass on the bar.

“No,” you rasped, fighting the burn in your throat. “I’ve had worse.”

“I can stop giving you, y’know?” the man said as you lifted your glass again for another.

“And not get paid? You wouldn’t.”

The barkeeper laughed and poured you another glass. This time you didn’t immediately drink it all, but you turned around on your stool and looked at the biggest table on the floor. It was an oval-shaped table, lined with the same crimson of the seat you were sitting on, and around it sat seven people. Dice lay in the middle of the table, surrounded by grey, black and red chips and a stack of cards.

Even in the noise of the other tables and people walking between them, the conversations at the big table were clear.

“You’re bluffing!” the man on the right shouted. He was big in all aspects someone could be big. The hems of his trousers were too high up his legs and the sleeves of his jacket were too short. The golden buttons of his blouse were about to burst and his hat kept sliding off his head because it didn’t fit well. His appearance was only mimicked more by his dark red cheeks and the little drops of sweat that were rolling down his face.

“Am not,” the lanky, dark brown man on the other side of the table said. He had a wicked grin on his handsome face and seemed to be in his element. His feet were lying on the edge of the table and he held his cards loosely in his hand, like they were to fall any moment.

“How could you—? You don’t— No one—” the big man started and the colour drained from his face. You had missed what the beginning of the conversation was, but surely it was not something the big man wanted to come out.

“Maybe you should try to keep such information to yourself,” the tall guy said. “Now, are you in or out?”

The surrounding men at the table nervously shifted in their seats as they looked at the big man. He patted his head with a silk handkerchief and stared at his cards for a moment. A new set of sweat seemed to pour over his forehead and eventually he threw his cards open on the table. ‘I’m out.’

The man got up from the table and he hurried away, followed by the other five men. They walked past you in a queue outside and when they were all gone, the guy at the table smiled pleased.

“He was bluffing,” you noted, after taking a quick glance at the cards that were lying open on the table.

“What?” the barman asked, who had watched the play with you, and you were reminded that you were not alone.

A warm rush spread in your cheeks and you turned your head to the bartender. “That guy was bluffing to scare the man away.”

The man squeezed his eyes at you and said a little too late: “Why’d you think that?”

“Look at the cards on the table,” you said and peered back at the big table. “That man on the left had two of the highest and the person two seats from him had another. I can’t see the cards on this side of the table, but whatever they are, this guy can never have enough to win.”

The barman looked at you for a few seconds. “How do you know?”

You looked out over the hall, scanning the games on other tables. “You learn things,” you shrugged and then nodded to a little table closer by. “See that guy? How he is glancing between his cards and the dealer’s hands?” The barkeeper leaned forward over the bar and looked at where you were pointing. “He has good cards and is trying not to let anyone notice it.”

The man leaned back from the bar and filled your glass without you even asking. He rested one hand on the bar and looked at you. “Where did you learn that?”

“Well, you have to do something on a ship,” you said, swirling the drink. “Eventually staring at the stars all night gets a bit boring.”

The barman snorted laughingly. “You’re from a ship?” Then he looked at your outfit again and he nodded. “Now that makes a lot more sense,” he mumbled. “When did you arrive?”

“About an hour ago,” you answered and pulled the clock from your blouse.

Meanwhile, the handsome guy from the big table walked to the bar and he greeted the bartender as he sat down one seat away from you. You looked at him from the corner of your eye and stopped at the guns on his hips. The clock lowered without you realising and you gave up on trying to hide your stare.

The two pearl-handled guns shone in the light from above and you shook your head in disbelief. Zemini-made revolvers were rare, and you would know. You had heard stories about them from your mates on The Teufel, but none of them had ever even had one in their hands. Only Nerseh in his younger years had owned one, but he had lost it in a battle. The Zemini guns were feared among your crew and there were two of them right next to you now.

“See anything you like, darling?” the guy asked and your eyes shot from his revolvers to his face. He had that same mischievous smile on his lips and there was a glimmer in his eyes as he raised his eyebrow at you.

“Those are pretty rare guns,” you said, ignoring the guy’s suggestive tone.

He took one of the revolvers from the holster and let it twirl in his fingers. Though you didn’t want to, you felt a shiver run down your spine at the ease with which the boy handled his guns. You had gotten quite familiar with your own guns, but you had yet to learn that.

The boy must have seen your googling eyes because he smiled a bit more real now and said: “I know, Zemini-made. You don’t find that very oft—”

“Faen!” you interrupted in Fjerdan, using the word that you had heard Stefan say so often. You had looked at your watch and realised that it was much later than you had thought it was. It was already a quarter till midnight and it would take you at least twenty minutes to get back to the harbour. You jumped from your seat, threw some coins on the bar and straightened your coat, mumbling: “Stupid windowless walls…”

Without sparing another look at the two guys you left behind you stormed out of the Crow Club into the street. Rain was pouring down from the sky and you shivered at the sudden cold. For a second you looked around and scanned your surroundings and then you hurried off in the direction you had come from.

People passed you in a blur of colours and shadows as you ran over the streets, desperately trying to find a way back to the harbour. The captain wouldn’t appreciate you being late and it would most likely cause you a night scrubbing the deck on a night you actually had been free. But perhaps Stefan would accompany you.

Your mind automatically seemed to find a way to think of your best friend. The situation in the gambling hall had taken your mind off him for a minute but now your logical senses were numbed by the alcohol the Fjerdan was back again. Stefan could’ve easily found his way back. The boy could find a route almost everywhere, even in a place you had never been before. He would just follow the direction of the sun or look at the leaves on a tree and know where you were.

But Stefan wasn’t there to guide you back. He was probably already back at The Teufel, waiting impatiently on you.

Every alley looked the same and all the gambling houses had the same flashy lights. You didn’t know if you were moving forward or just running in circles. Somewhere above in the sky you heard the twelve bells that told you you had to be back already. With the feeling you had passed the house on the corner of the street three times before, you ran on, ignoring the protesting people if you ran into them. You almost fell over your own feet and nearly stumbled into a girl dressed all in dark clothes.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, pushing away from her softly but when you turned around to her she was nowhere to be seen on the street. You were too much in a hurry to worry about that and ran on, sighing in relief when you saw the fluorescent lights from the Lid.

The Lid was filled with more people than the Barrel you ran from and it was harder to manage a way through. You pushed and threw yourself between people, growing a little nauseous from the smell of so many bodies together combined with the smells that came from the kitchens around. As you hurried through the tourists, your breath was high in your throat and you could feel your heart beating in your head. Heavy breaths fell over your lips but you refused to take a moment to rest.

The glittery lanes were soon exchanged for the dark open space of the harbour. The cobblestones echoed the sounds of your footsteps as you ran. People shot you weird looks as you raced past them.

The closer you came to where The Teufel lay, the busier it became, but instead of searching for a reason you just hoped that you could still make it past them. However, the crowd became too big for you to run as fast as you had and you slowed your pace slightly. You zigzagged between people and pushed them aside, getting various insults thrown at your head. As you came closer to the inner circle of the crowd, you realised that they weren’t just randomly standing there; they were standing around The Teufel.

You stopped running completely and approached the busiest part of the crowd at walking pace. Now you weren’t focusing on your own thoughts you heard that the people were all muttering and talking with each other—and that the people closer to the water were screaming and shouting.

The few people that stood in between you and your destination you pushed aside softly and the closer you got the more you felt a strange heat on your face. When the woman in front of you stepped aside, your jaw dropped.

There, in the water, right where it had been when you left earlier this night, lay The Teufel completely in flames. Not a single part of the main deck had been spared, flames were reaching high up in the sky, eating the masts like a monstrous creature. Thick dark grey clouds hung above the ship in the dark blue night sky. The flames curled around the hull of The Teufel, like a devil claiming its prey. Wooden walls collapsed, iron melted and ropes caught fire, sending the flames up to destroy the crow’s nest.

Among the chaos on the shore and the sound of the fire, all you could think about was one thing. My family. The shouting and cackling couldn’t drown out the screams of terror that came from the belly of the ship. Cries for help, prayers to all gods and saints. Your crew was in there. Your people were inside of a burning ship. Your friends and family. They were all trapped.

It could have been you. If you hadn’t lost track of time, you would’ve been there with them. You would have arrived before the twelve bells, gone inside with the others and would be trapped in there now. It could have been you, but instead it was your crew. And you didn’t know what was worse.

There was nothing you could do. No way to run on the ship and free your mates without catching fire yourself. No way to stop that fire that was capturing The Teufel. No human could do it, no grisha either. This was more than an accidental fire, this was controlled. Don’t fight a bigger power without knowing its weaknesses. It was a phrase your father would say to you whenever you had been mad at the world as a child. The advice he had ignored before he had gone to fight his way into death. You didn’t know what the fire’s weaknesses were, if there were any weaknesses at all. All you could do was stand on the shore with your hands clasped over your chest and your eyes stuck on what had once been The Teufel. What had once been your home.

The screams of the crew were engraving themselves in your mind, cutting you open and leaving deep wounds. The last bit of your hope had been left behind on that ship and was now burning away, leaving nothing but a hollow chest.

Time passed by as you stood on the shore, watching the last remains of your home falling apart. You didn’t look away when the fire burst through the portholes in the hull of the ship and you didn’t flinch as you heard the last sounds you would ever hear from your crewmates. You took it all in, soaked your mind in the pain, feeling the shock and terror making place for fury. One day, you promised yourself. One day you would find a way to get revenge.

You knew that in a city like this news would spread fast. Surely before sunrise all the people in Ketterdam would know of the ship that had burned away in Fifth Harbour. You wouldn’t be safe; not from the questions of the people and not from whoever had done this. You were sure that they wouldn’t be too keen on having missed someone from the crew before they blew it up. Chances were big that, if anyone ever found out that you had belonged to The Teufel, your days would be numbered.

Fortunately you hadn’t told anyone you were part of The Teufel’s crew. Anyone but the barman at the Crow Club. You hadn’t literally told him, but you were sure he could put two and two together.

Once the fire had been settled and the ashes of the wood were only still smoldering, you straightened your back. You would find the barman and ask him not to tell anyone. Or perhaps you would find your ending in the streets of the Barrel. The Teufel had been your home for two years, but it was time to get moving.

-=-=-

The Crow Club stood proudly in front of you. Rain was running down your face, following the lines of your neck into your blouse. You were cold and your entire body was shaking but you knew that was more from the shock than the rain. In the back of your head you still heard the screams but you tried to block them out as you stepped to the gambling house.

As you walked closer to the entrance, a boy stepped in front of the door, blocking your way. He was huge with arms full of tattoos and a mouth full of crooked teeth, some of them missing, and when you approached him you realised he was watching you. He expected me. This guy had been waiting for you, he had known that you would come back. How could he?

Hesitating you went forward. You had already seen the gun on his belt and you were quite sure if you turned around and walked away he wouldn’t be afraid to use it. In front of the boy you stopped and leaned to the side to look inside the building.

“I’m sorry, could I go inside?” you asked, your voice mellow and innocent. “I would really like to warm up a little.”

The man just tilted his head to the side and his lips turned into a stupid grin. His hand rested casually on his gun, though you knew that all his moves had been precisely calculated. Whether by himself or someone’s orders was your next guess.

“You better follow me,” the boy said and his eyes glassily looked at you.

“Do I have a choice then?”

“No.” The man took his gun from his belt and easily pointed it to your chest. If he shot now he wouldn’t kill you, just harm you. So he wants me alive.

“Fine, fine,” you mumbled and lifted your arms in the air to show you were defenceless.

The guy roughly pushed you away from the door and held the barrel to your back as he led you away from the Crow Club.

You weren’t sure why the boy didn’t just put a bullet through your head. If he was part of whoever had burned down The Teufel, why would he want you to stay alive? The rest had been murdered mercilessly, what did they have in mind for you?

However, if he wasn’t not part of the fire, why did he want to have you at all? You couldn’t think of anything you had done wrong or of any danger you could be. You were pretty much just a harmless teen in a strange city.

The man pushed you through the street and over a bridge. You made a few turns into small alleys and streets, passing houses in all shapes and kinds. Behind some windows flickered a soft light, others were dark. You heard screaming from one house and music from the house next to it. Laughter of children and cursing from adults.

You stopped in front of a house that looked exactly like all the others; crippled and on the brink of collapse. The guy held his gun to you as he kicked open the door and then pressed the barrel deeper in your back to make you walk. Slowly you passed over the threshold and stood still in the hall of the house.

Much different from what you had expected, the inside of the house was not damaged like the outside. While the colours and construction did look old, the house was built to survive for longer than just a few years.

“Up,” the man mumbled and he nodded to the stairs.

You followed his order and headed up the stairs, feeling your legs ache from all the walking on land you had done in the past hours. Though you got used quite fast to the difference, a sudden change from sea to shore did have its effects on your body. Especially if you crossed an entire city twice in one night.

The staircase led to a landing with many doors. The house wasn’t particularly big and with that many doors, you figured the rooms must be small. You wondered what this house was used for. It almost had the feeling of a hostel, but there wouldn’t be many guests if putting a gun to someone’s head was their way of advertising.

“That room,” said the guy and he gestured at one of the doors in the corridor.

The wooden planks creaked under the weight of your body. The door of the room was closed and the man with the gun knocked on it with much more restraint than you expected from someone who had just abducted you from the streets.

It was silent for a moment as you and the man waited for the door to open. Your heart was beating in your throat and you swallowed deeply. Nerves were running through your body, sending tingles down to your fingertips.

The door opened and before you had time to look inside, the guy pushed you inside and closed the door again behind you. You were inside a small room, with a bed, a chair and a closet that put half the room in shadows. On the wall opposite of the door was a little window, showing the side of another building that stood next to the house. The window reminded you of the portholes inside the hold of a ship, your least favourite place as there was very little light.

However, the room didn’t have much space in your mind as your attention was caught by the person in the room. He could not be much older than you yet it felt like this boy had more character than an old man. His face was hidden in the shadows but you could make out the hard lines framed by sleek black hair. His eyes shone like emeralds under his dark brows and there was a malicious glance in them when they rested on you.

“Sit,” he spoke and the rock salt rasp of his voice sent shivers down your spine. “Please.”

You sat down on the simple wooden chair in the middle of the room, though you rather would’ve kept standing. The boy was towering over you now, standing in front of you, leaning on his cane. Your eyes slid to the silver handle under his gloved hands. It had the shape of a crow’s head.

“Who are you?” you asked, trying to calm the nerves you felt rushing through you. You weren’t necessarily afraid of the boy, but you also couldn’t deny the unease in your body.

The boy cocked his head to the side and the smallest wicked grin played on his lips. “An hour ago a ship was set ablaze in Fifth Harbour,” the boy said and you looked away from his stern gaze. “The Teufel. A rather bold way of naming a ship, after the devil, isn’t it? Nothing is left of The Teufel, no plank, no crewmate. Or at least, so is said. That is why you are here, not y/n?”

Your head snapped up to the boy and your eyes narrowed at him. “You know my name?”

“I know lots, y/n, and your name happens to be on that list,” the boy said and it was a little harder for him to hide his smirk. He’s enjoying it, you realised in disbelief. This is what he’s trained for. “I also know that you are the only living crewmate and that you visited my club this evening.”

“Your club?” You frowned—he seemed way too young to have a successful gambling club.

“Yes, my club,” the boy repeated and he shifted his weight, letting a sigh fall from his lips. “You sat at the bar and ordered more drinks in two hours than an average adult would in four hours.”

You looked back at your feet. You knew you had trouble staying away from the drinks, but that didn’t make it any nicer when someone pointed it out. At sea it had never really mattered—the others had drunk with you and as long as you did your duties successfully the captain didn’t care if you were sober or not.

“You spoke with no one and just watched the games, until my barman got some information out of you,” the boy went on and you felt his gaze on you. “He said you were able to determine the outcome of the game after just the first card was played.”

“So?” you shrugged. Surely that was not why the boy had gotten you there and it was definitely not something that was on your mind right now. All you could think of were the screams and the longer you sat in the dark room, the more cramped it became.

“Can you?”

“I don’t see how—”

“Answer the question.” His voice was hard and cold, but laced with curiosity that he failed to hide from you.

“I guess I can, yes.”

The boy stayed silent for a while and the tension in the room reached for your throat. You had never been one for small rooms, that’s why you had chosen for the sea. And now the anxiety of all that had happened that night was piling up on your chest, like someone pressing down on you. The walls were closing in on you, leaving you gasping for breath. Your clothes were still wet and your hair stuck to your forehead and neck, but you were no longer cold.

You clenched your hands around the fabric of your blouse, feeling it crumple between your fingers. But even in your panicked state you could see the change in demeanor in the boy. He planned this. He had known this would happen, he had deliberately put you in this room, knowing what it would do to you.

“What do you want from me?” you breathed, looking up to meet his eyes, and then added with an intensity you didn’t know was in you: “Did you kill them?”

The hard expression on the boy’s face fell for a moment as he looked at you. For a minute he turned into a boy his age, someone with a soul. “I promise you I didn’t kill them. I had nothing to do with the fire.” Then he straightened his back and slammed his cane on the floor, pulling himself out of the moment. “I have business. We’ll continue in the morning.”

The boy limped to the door and the cane suddenly made more sense. He pulled the door open and stepped through it when you interrupted him.

“Who are you?”

He looked over his shoulder and casted a dark glance at your figure. You had stood up from your chair and were still holding onto the back for balance. There was an expression on his face that you couldn’t read and you feared that it wouldn’t be the last time that happened.

“Kaz Brekker. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

-=-=-

The mattress you were lying on was lumpy and hard, forcing your back to straighten in a way it never had to. The blanket was itchy and heavy and pressed hard on your chest, not allowing you to take deep breaths.

You were shifting in and out of sleep, unable to tell reality from imagination. One moment you were staring at the dark ceiling above you, the next you were sitting alone in the hold of The Teufel. The room around you moved in front of your eyes, the shadows dancing on the walls. In the ship, water slowly rose around you. You tried to get up, tried to run away, but it was as if you were glued to the floor. Unable to move you sat waiting for the rising water to reach for your throat.

Something moved in the room. It was a flicker of a shadow in the corner of your eye but enough for you to notice. You forced your eyes open, but the water was rising so quickly it was impossible for you to focus on anything else. The water level was at your jaw now. You took a final breath and the shadow in the room moved again. Closing your eyes against the water, it rose above your nose.

Then there was more movement. The shadow was coming closer to you, moving with the grace of a cloud.

Feeling the water on your face, you opened your eyes and shot up in the bed. The water disappeared and you were in the dark room again, shaking and coughing. Yet the threat wasn’t gone; the shadow was still in the corner.

You shifted to the side and rested your back against the cold wall, looking at the shadow in anticipation. While your heart was beating in your throat, you calmly looked ahead of you until the shadow moved from the corner.

“How did you see me?” the shadow asked and you shrugged.

“You move like a spider.” And I’m afraid of spiders.

Out of the shadows stepped a young girl, hidden in a flowy cloak that moved along with her. The lack of light threw a veil over the room, covering it with a black and white filter, but still you could make out the brown skin of the girl and her almost black eyes, that were staring right at you.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, though it would be no surprise if the girl had something to do with your meeting with Brekker a few hours ago.

“Look,” the girl said and she moved to sit next to you on the bed. You caught a shimmer of something near her wrists, but when you looked at her she was wearing a light smile. “This isn’t the worst place to end up. You have walked through these streets; you know where you could have ended.”

You thought back of earlier this evening when you were walking through the roads of the Barrel for the first time. The girl was right; if you hadn’t been brought to where you were now you could have turned into the colourless types that you had seen or, worse, you could have ended up in one of the brothels.

“Kaz doesn’t just take anyone in,” the girl continued. “He must think you have some use, or he would have left you on the streets.”

You snorted; that wasn’t exactly a much better prospect.

The girl must have guessed your thought because she chuckled shortly. “I know it does not seem like it now, but trust me—this is the right place to be.”

Silence filled the room for a minute as you thought about the girl’s words. Instinct told you that you could trust her, and that her trust once lost, was lost forever. There were so many questions you wanted to ask her but you were afraid of the answers. You preferred mystery over knowledge right now.

The shadow girl was looking at you with pity on her face, like she felt bad for your situation. There was sympathy behind her eyes and compassion in her touch as she placed her hand shortly over yours, giving it the lightest squeeze.

“What’s your name?” you asked, your throat tightening at the threat of tears.

The girl stared at you for a second and then she gave you a smile. “Inej,” she said. “But you might hear of me as the Wraith.”

Inej got up from her place on the bed and walked to the door. Her cloak fluttered behind her through the air as she walked, falling against her legs when she halted. She turned around to you. “Kaz will send someone to get you in the morning.”

“What will happen?”

“I don’t know what he has planned,” Inej sighed. “But I advise you to go along with it, or it might be the last you’ll do.”

She shot you a final smile and left the room silently. The shadow disappeared as quietly as it had come.

-=-=-

You didn’t know if you had slept at all. Undoubtedly you had dozed off for a while, but for most of the night you had just lain on your back staring at the stains on the ceiling above you. When the morning sun had brightened your room, the hope that it might all be a dream had disappeared when reality came in crashing hard.

The clothes you had worn last night had dried from the rain, but they no longer brought the comfort they used to. Here wearing those clothes meant that you stood out; you couldn’t blend in. When the same guy as last night had knocked on your door and ordered you to follow him you had left your jacket behind, deciding that the rest of your outfit was conspicuous enough on its own.

Last night in the dark the house had been silent, but now you heard noise everywhere. There were many more doors than you had thought and behind every one lay a secret. The house seemed bigger now it was light. Although there was no direct sunlight in the corridors you could sense that it was day. Last night you had felt mystery as you had walked through the corridors but now it felt more like the boarding school you had gone to with all the whispers.

“Where are we going?” you asked the boy who had brought you to this house.

“Crow Club,” he grumbled and then kept silent.

You walked the same route you had last night, but now the streets were deserted and the houses quiet. The Barrel was the part of Ketterdam that lived at night.

The big, silver crow that hung above the entrance of the Crow Club like a guardian quickly came to your sight and you shivered lightly. Entering that club was what had gotten you in this situation and you feared you would only get deeper in this mess when you entered again.

However, the big guy behind you left you no choice and before you even had time to think he had already pushed you over the threshold.

Stumbling inside you were greeted by the same black, windowless walls and the same stuffed scent. The crimson stools at the bar were unoccupied but the tables on the gambling floor were played on, despite the early hours. Games of Ridderspel and Spijker were in full motion as you were led through a door on the side of the room.

“Close the door behind you, Pim,” a voice from the shadows said and the boy who had led you there, apparently named Pim, closed the door.

You looked at the strange scene in front of you. You hadn’t known what to expect but it sure wasn’t a gambling parlor. There was one big table in the middle of the room and around it stood eight chairs. Only one of the chairs was occupied and with a jolt you recognised the boy from the Zemeni guns.

“Goede morgen,” he smiled at you as he leaned back in his chair. “Care for a game?”

“What?” You stood rooted to the ground, staring in confusion at the guy at the table.

From the shadows on the side of the room Kaz Brekker stepped. The loud, rhythmic thud from his cane on the floor was the only sound in the room as he walked to the table. He stopped in the middle and looked up at you with his hard cold gaze.

“Play a game,” he said, resting his two hands on the crow head of his cane.

“I don’t understand,” you tried.

“It’s easy,” Brekker said. “You said you were good at card games, right? So prove it—play a game with Jesper.”

Jesper, the boy at the table, flashed his smile full of white teeth at you and raised his eyebrows. It felt like a trap, but you couldn’t forget what Inej had said to you that night. I advise you to go along with it, or it might be the last you’ll do. An invitation to a game wouldn’t be your end.

Behind you Pim stepped closer to you and put his hand on your shoulder to push you forward. Within a second you had turned around and taken hold of his arm, twisting it dangerously close to breaking. The boy looked at you with somewhat of fright on his face and there was a little wave of triumph in your stomach. The emotions of the situation got the better of you and your heart was racing as you felt the anger rushing through your veins.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed through gritted teeth and pushed his arm a little further. “Understand?”

Pim’s eyes flashed to the two people behind you and he recollected himself. He pulled his arm from your grip and stepped back to the door, avoiding your eyes and looking gruffly ahead.

You turned around and found Jesper looking at you in awe and even Brekker couldn’t hide his surprise. Then you nodded at the two men and took a seat on the opposite side of the table. “Let’s play then.”

Brekker nodded approvingly and shuffled the cards with his gloved hands. Your eyes were glued to the smooth movement of the crows imprinted cards. They slid through the fingers of the pale black-haired smoothly like water.

“I assume you know Ridderspel?” the gloved dealer asked as he placed four cards in front of you on the table.

“Of course,” you said, watching Jesper intently as this one got his cards.

Because everything in the situation was new for you, it would take you two or three rounds before you would get used to the game. All, from the cards and chairs to your opponent and the dealer, was unfamiliar to you and combining that with the pressure of supposably your life on the line only made it easier to overlook things.

Therefore you had to pay extra attention, and mostly to Jesper. His easygoing attitude and big smile were dangerous tricks that could throw you off without any difficulty but you wouldn’t fall for them. You were looking for little things that would give him away, like the slightest falter of his smile, a tiny frown or nervous twitch.

Jesper picked up his cards and you watched him from the corner of your eyes as you pretended to look at your own cards. For this round however those wouldn’t really matter. First you had to find Jesper’s tell. That you might lose and give him confidence was only an additional benefit; people made more mistakes when they’re blinded by the price.

At first nothing seemed to happen. Jesper kept the same smirk on his face and played the round with nonchalance, taking all but one pair in the game. Triumphantly he leaned his chair back on two chair legs and stacked his chips in front of him.

“Don’t worry love, you’ll get it later,” he said, giving you a wink.

You shot him a sweet smile back and took the new cards off the table. After one look you had them memorised and you looked at Jesper. He was looking at his cards with sparkles in his eyes, but yet again it was no different than before.

Silently you cursed yourself. Last night he had seemed so open and easy to read, but you realised now that there were many more layers to the guy with the pearl-handled revolvers.

Again you lost the game, now with all your cards being lost to Jesper. His pile of red chips was building and yours was only getting lower. You looked at your chips. If you didn’t win soon the game would be over and you’d lose, and you didn’t want to think what consequences that had.

The third game were the last cards of the deck before it was shuffled again. Your hand was to your benefit with no card lower than six. You knew there weren’t many high cards, if any at all, left in the game since Jesper had beaten you with high numbers every time. That meant that he would have low cards and now was the perfect time to watch his reaction.

You took a new approach to finding his tell. Instead of focusing on his facial expressions, that he proved to have under control, you now concentrated on his body language. His shoulders hung relaxed and his arms were resting on the edge of the table. Though you couldn’t see his legs under the table, you knew they weren’t standing neatly on the ground but were instead crossed or at least moving. Nothing in his posture gave him away.

Until it did. It was a flash of a second, if you’d blinked you wouldn't have seen it. For a fraction of time Jesper’s shoulders fell and his arms stiffened. No one else in the room noticed it, but your senses became hypersensitive.

Then, when you looked at his face, you saw more. His smirk wasn’t genuine anymore and the sparkles in his eyes weren’t as bright as before. It were minuscule changes, but big messages to you.

“I raise,” you spoke calmly and you pushed forward the last of your chips. It was all or nothing.

You saw Brekker raising his eyebrow in the corner of your eye, but you were focused on Jesper. His brows furrowed a little and he pushed forward the same amount. Though he had chips left, if you won this round you would have much more than he, meaning you won this game.

“Let’s play,” you grinned and opened with your six, your lowest card, but still a rather high card.

Jesper’s card would be crucial. If he had higher than a six, he would play that and you wouldn’t win the game. If he had a six, he would play that one and the cards would be evened out, but you would know that the six was his highest card. If he played anything lower than a six it would mean that you had won the game, for no one would lose a round on purpose and play a lower card when they had a higher one.

Expectantly you looked at Jesper. His smirk had gone and made place for a frown as he looked at the card on the table. His joyful bluffing face was nowhere to be seen and a sigh fell from his lips when he realised his defeat. He threw a five on the table and sunk back in his chair.

With a grin on your face you played the rest of the round and won all Jesper’s cards. At the end of the game, you rested your chin on your folded hands and smiled at Jesper. “You know what?” you started and Jesper looked up at you. “I think I got it.”

-=-=-

Kaz and Jesper had left the room after the game and Pim was standing on the outside of the door, making sure no one would get in. They had not said a word to you when they left and now you were alone in the silent gambling parlor. At least, that’s what they wanted you to believe.

“Inej,” you said. “Come out please.”

No matter how focused you had been on the game, you hadn’t missed the little shadow sneaking inside near the end. And you hadn’t missed how Brekker’s eyes had shifted to one particular corner while he was watching your game with Jesper.

The girl appeared from the shadow and silently walked over to you, giving you a small smile. “How did you know I was here?”

“Because you wanted to be seen,” you simply said and by the way her eyes widened you knew you were right. “I don’t really know you, but I have the feeling you can be really invisible if you want. Me seeing you is not a coincidence or special talent of mine. You wanted me to see you.”

Inej chuckled softly and shook her head. “How do you do that? Knowing what I feel by just looking at me?”

You smiled and shrugged. “I had a tutor,” you said. “Mayranoush was her name. She taught me how to know people before they even see you.”

The memory of The Teufel’s quartermaster hurt. The weird situation you were in had taken your mind off the loss for a moment, but now there was nothing to distract you the pain came double as hard.

You thought of your crew and how much you already missed them. Captain Nerseh and his brusque manners but warm heart; Marina and her cheerfulness; Vinay, who was the only one who still had wanted to play games with you. You missed them all so much and you couldn’t believe that they weren’t there anymore.

But the one you missed the most was Stefan. He had been your best friend for the past two years, you had spent every day together and never had you thought you’d have to say goodbye. You thought of his last words to you. Back then you hadn’t known what to say, but now as you were sitting there without him you knew that you loved him too. But it was too late.

“Jer elsker pe,” you whispered to yourself.

“What?” Inej asked and you looked up. You had forgotten she was sitting next to you, so silent she was.

“Nothing,” you mumbled and then turned to her. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure,” Inej answered and she smiled at you.

“Have you ever loved someone?”

Inej’s eyes flickered to the door Kaz had just left through and then she looked at you in silence for a minute. “No,” she said finally. “Never loved like that. Why?”

You stared at the upholstered table in front of you and swallowed away the pain in your throat. “I just… It hurts so much. Everyone always says that love is the most beautiful thing in the world, but no one ever mentions the pain…”

“Maybe the pain makes you appreciate it more,” Inej said. “Often we don’t see what we have until it’s gone.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and you shook your head. Inej was right; you hadn’t known you loved Stefan until he was gone. But that didn’t matter anymore. There was no way you could get the Fjerdan back and you wouldn’t turn into a mess trying to find one. You would keep your love for him deep in your heart until it was nothing more than a memory.

“Life’s not fair,” you said and you wiped the tears from your face. “But I’ll get my even.”

“How?” Inej asked and you turned to her.

“I will find who burned down my home and I will destroy them to the ground they’re standing on.”

“I suggest you find help for that,” the cold voice of Kaz Brekker said.

You looked to your side to meet Kaz and Jesper. Pim was standing inside of the room again, still avoiding your eyes when you looked at him. Jesper was watching you with a smirk and he winked at you when he caught your eyes.

Finally you turned to Brekker, who was looking at you with a peculiar expression. There was something playing around his lips that you would almost call a smile and his eyes had lost the ice cold gaze.

“Who do you suggest?” you asked, looking up at Kaz.

He shrugged half and said, before he walked away: “I have some connections.”

Pim and he disappeared behind the door and you were left dumbfounded with Inej and Jesper. The latter placed his hand on your shoulder and chuckled. You looked between him and Inej and raised an eyebrow. “What just happened?”

“I think you just became a member of the Dregs.”

- - - - -

special thanks to @awritingtree for the support and encouragement <3

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#six of crows #six of crows imagine #crows x reader #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #inej ghafa x reader #inej ghafa imagine #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey imagine #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #soc #six of crows x reader #the crows x reader #crows imagine #the crows

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