#⌗ musings. ﹙ is a pinterest moodboard enough to describe it? ﹚

[etherealys]

BIOGRAPHY. DOSSIER. VISUALS. CONNECTIONS.

it's kim dongjae (dj), who is the lead rapper of phoenix. i’ve heard whispers that the 23 year old is pretty flambouyant but lowkey aloof. also, don’t they remind you of lee donghyuck (haechan) ?

- ̗̀tw: death, self-harm, blood & depression ̖́-

for as long as they could remember, dj was praised for their charming smile and ever so siren-like voice. their parents were ecstatic about their innate musical and theatrical abilities and was thrusted into the limelight from an early age. from commercials, to modeling, even trying to excel at every instrument their parents could possibly sign them up for, their life was jam packed full of money-making opportunities that just seemed endless. they couldn’t take a break from it even if they wanted to. it wasn’t until they became 11 years old that a genetic disease took over their immune system so viscerally that it costed them their tonsils to be removed and caused dj to develop vocal nodules. doctors informed their parents that the healing process would take months or even years— a fact that would crush their parents’ dreams of nurturing a starchild. and while dj was sad about the news, there were no more jobs waiting for them day after day. in their prepubescent state, they were free. free to do as they chose, to become what they wanted to be, anything was possible. or so that’s what it seemed.

( denial. every doctor they were taken to for future checkups said the same thing over and over— dongjae would need to heal first, and it could be anywhere between 3 months to a few years. their parents couldn’t believe their ears, hearing the same mangled words reverberating in their greedy skulls. they were now expected to go back to being an senior vice president of a law firm and surgeon— two high enough paying jobs that they had no reason for their child to have to bear the weight of overworking and exhaustion. this fact would anger dj years later, and perhaps became the main reason why they don’t keep in contact with their parents anymore. )

ii. being the prodigy child to parents that kept wanting more, dongjae found that there was too much to bare, too much at stake, if they didn’t do as they were told. at age three, they could recite the alphabet in 4 different languages. at five, they excelled at playing the piano and knew symphonies just by watching others. at nine, they made it into second place at an international spelling bee. thirteen, already a freshman in high school. fourteen, fifteen, the years had went. student body president, captain of the varsity chess club, leader of every charity imaginable, lead vocalist in the school choir, 3 years fully healed from their previous surgeries. but it was never enough. the attention they craved from their parents never came. not in the way that they were used to. they felt detached from their family because of something they had absolutely no control over, and by time they graduated at sixteen, well above their peers as valedictorian, no one had even batted an eye. when the heads were down and the reasonable amount of clapping they had done at dj’s speech without a single warm, recognizable face in the crowd save for their butler second father, dj was ready to give up. the seemingly perfect child, but never good enough.  

( anger. after years of harnessing dj’s skills for greater things, to make them the biggest star the world had ever seen, only for it to go to waste was yoona and oliver’s biggest disappointment. more so after dj showed no interest in the musical arts even with their past experience and history of great achievements, their parents became hyperfocused on their jobs, much too busy to tend to any of their children— with dj being the youngest and the rest of their siblings already cutting contact with their parents long before they entered high school, they were left to be tended to by butlers and maids that would send them pitiful looks when they thought dj wasn’t looking. they always noticed. )

iii. they had gotten used to being tossed aside and forgotten despite any and all attempts to gain their parent’s approval again. the trophy case that sat in the foyer of their mansion becoming yet another disappointment to the family name. the blame was simply put — their parents would rather have the fame than their own child. and they made it clear every time dj made an effort to make a name for themselves. they began to gravitate away from the only people they ever wanted love from slowly, but surely. their siblings were none the wiser how their youngest was treated after they left. oh, how they ENVIED their brothers and sister, and the way they didn’t have to endure what they had to (dj would learn later on that they, indeed, had to endure it— every single kim sibling a sort of … experiment).

( depression. how could they make it up to them ? to want to sing again, to be the person that their parents desperately longed for them to be. having to do their best no matter the cost to earn some semblance of attention when all their parents ever did was ignore them. was always on the edge of snapping, each troubling night becoming worse and worse for their mind. they did everything to redeem themselves, but nothing was ever really worth more than a head turn the other way. dj’s daily routine went from taking who-knows-how-many hour naps and waking up only to look themselves in the mirror and see their own reflection, imperfect and unlovable. words ran through their head at every cut, all the blood seeping through the cuts on their legs and onto the cold, marble flooring in the bathroom, tears welling up in their eyes at the thought of never earning their approval again. )

iv. by seventeen, their head was a mess of emotions and unexplainable certainties about themselves and their barely functioning family ━━━ running on 3-4 cups of coffee before lectures, and often times never slept at night. dj was ready to give up, take a share of their family’s fortune and make it out on their own ( because if they were meant to learn from anything their parents put them through, efforts being wasted, to how they were never going to be appreciated by the only people they thought would cut them some SLACK, it would be not to trust those close to them ). why wait until it was too late to start anew and forget the past ? though, it wasn’t long after his eighteenth birthday that their parents would eventually kick their own child out, leaving them with a duffel bag full of his clothes and personal belongings ( at least they had some kind of dignity left within them, dj would recall thinking ), and barely enough money to live off of for a week. 

( bargaining. dongjae only had one choice and shot at this— they auditioned for infinite entertainment. the recruiters recognized them from their past work (the only thing that dj would be thankful for at that moment) and became a trainee basically overnight. they worked a thankless job at a café too mainstream for their taste, but lived with it if they wanted to keep paying for the training. after living dorm life for a few months, on top of brushing up on their abilities and swearing off singing in favour of rapping and dancing, dj ended up debuting not long after— a fact that would still surprise them to this day. )

v. their father’s last words on a hospital bed were something dj could never let go of, for they were the one of the few he has ever spoken to them in the last nineteen years. why should they even CARE ? oh, but you do, don’t you? ( you are a FUCKING disgrace to this family. ) it was the last thing they wanted from him, and afterwards, dj simply got up and left. how COULD he ? the only child that even bothered to visit him in his last moments ? dongjae has never had more of a drive to strive in order to become something of themselves than in that moment. unbelievable ! the nerve of him, they had thought. but it hadn’t mattered one bit, for dj had never felt so alive. filled with rage and relief and grief … they’ve never been happier. that was the last time they ever spoken to their parents, the family that they were never really apart of since they were 11, and the last time they would ever come to even think of them. good fucking RIDDANCE.

( acceptance. that was it. that was the final straw that drove dj away from the lack of love, and lack of parents. their saddening childhood made them into the person they are today, and there was no way in hell that they would give it up. no one had picked up the pieces but themselves all these years, and they won’t have to ask in the future. perhaps their mother would have a chance to look at the tabloids once in a while to finally realize that dj was doing just fine without them. )

they attended the funeral with a stone cold expression, and had been present when the will was read, even when nothing was given to them. they remained that way as the family’s butler dropped them off at the dorms they stayed at, having debuted only two years prior, and merely said ‘ goodbye ’ before hurrying upstairs to their room on the third floor of the thirteen story building, a boulder of weight lifted from their shoulders.

#⌗ ooc. ﹙ breaking the 4th wall ﹚ #⌗ musings. ﹙ is a pinterest moodboard enough to describe it? ﹚ #⌗ aesthetic. ﹙ what instagram would've loved to see ﹚ #⌗ conversations. ﹙ they never stop talking! ﹚ #⌗ playlist. ﹙ genres are meaningless ; listen to everything ﹚ #⌗ visuals. ﹙ beauty is pain and i am the executioner ﹚ #⌗ answered. ﹙ tabloids love me! ﹚ #im too lazy to make a separate post for tags #i havent done this in years idk what im doing anymore #infinite:intro

[sparkledfirecracker]

Wrong Encounter

Synth’s 5K Follower Challenge / How it started – How’s it going?

@syntheticavenger , Congrats on reaching 5K and thank you for hosting this magnificent celebratory challenge.

Title: Wrong Encounter

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Female Reader

Challenge: Any character but arguing over being charged for something you didn’t order at a restaurant and the owner comes to assist.

Warning: 18+ only, dark content, explicit language, explicit sexual content, vaginal play/teasing?, sex/human trafficking?, sexwork, forced prostitution, forced sexwork, smut, unprotected sex, NonCon

A/N: I can’t say this enough; Synth thank you for inspiring me to write again!  I could have gone any direction yet this came out and fought me along the way, so I whipped out the old skool pen and paper. Maybe a little too save on the warnings, but at least they’re there. Don’t think it is dark enough, so enjoy this masterpiece of crappiness, because editing is not making it any better with this beer I’m consuming. Also as a non-native tongue here, so ALL mistakes are my own. Only lightly proofread, so don’t come for me.

ENJOY!

Pictures for moodboard inspo found on pinterest, so all the credit goes to the respectful owners. The quote inspired the final part to this.

How it started

The red ambiance of the room mixed well with the black shining floor and hanging chandeliers, it was slick and well set up. Looking around the room had you wondering what the parties must be like at night. A colleague had recommended this new place – an exquisite night – as they had described it. Yours ending miserably having a disagreement with your waiter.

The waiter had a way of pissing you off tonight and irritation was clearly bubbling “I’ve only had the steak with sides and a fucking bottle of rose, not the entire fish tank and three bottles of your most expensive champagne” your white knuckles balling around his collar as you practically screamed in his face.

 “There was another table that said you would pay for them.” It sounded like a plea of trying to settle the rage that was coursing through your body.

 “OUTRAGEOUS -- you don’t fact check with your customers?” You seethed “Listen up you little shit. I want to speak to your manager” throwing him out of your grasp, making him stumble backwards bumping into someone.

 “He’s already here and you have his undivided attention” your waiter stands in front of the large man awkwardly “Get back to work Jensen, I’ll deal with this fiery kitten” he nods and practically runs off.

 Annoyance rising at his degrading comment. “Perfect, an insult to go with the wrongly charges to my bill”

 “Ma’am please calm down, I’m sure there’s a way to resolve this mishap” his stance intimidates you

 Your eyes wandered to his silver nametag “Why should I calm down, mister Drysdale? Or should I say, entitled prick?” there was pride in your comeback, no-one should ever call you a fiery little kitten.

 “Ma’am, Ransom, please and watch your mouth, because we have places for woman like you.” It almost sounds like a threat and you’re willing to fight him on it.

 He’s a dark enigma, you can feel it radiate from his body. You’re too caught in taking in his enchanting features and wonder what kind of sorcery this man is using on you to make you feel so small.

 “Why don’t we settle this in my office” A charming smile thrown your way, but you’re too caught up in observing the blue-eyed man in front of you “Ma’am?”

 “Sorry, yeah, the idiot waiting on me charged more to my bill than I even consumed.” You explained without him asking for any of it.

 “Unfortunate, but it happens, please follow me to my office so we can resolve this. Can I offer you a coffee or something else for the inconvenience?”

 “No – No, your waiter overcharged me. No need to sit down somewhere private for this idiotic mishap” words falling firmly from your tongue “Just fix my bill so I can be on my way and never come back.”

 “Please, let us sort this out, if you just come with me to my office -- we can talk this over” His calming persistence had you hooked and you took a deep breath in.

 “Fine.”

 “Great, thank you – Jensen, we’ll be in my office, don’t fuck up more than you already have” You roll your eyes at the barked order, he felt superior to his employees.

 You had followed him into his office, the golden name plate beaming on the door. The dark aesthetic of his office fitted well with the ambiance he’d created in his restaurant and nightclub, it felt luxurious and exclusive, sprinkled with a bit of mystery.

 Ransom stood by his bar cart filled with expensive liquors while your eyes lingered on the well-stocked bookshelves. Ransom Drysdale didn’t look like much of a reader to you.

 “My grandfathers, well most of it anyway, he’s a writer and owns Blood Like Wine Publishing” Ransom explained looking at your admiring gaze. You look back at him noticing his motioning gesture to the chairs “Please sit, can I offer you a drink?”

 “No thank you” shaking your head at his offer, he poured his poison of choice, even though you had refused he handed you a glass. It would be rude to decline again, you accepted the tumbler letting your fingers trace the outlines of the crystal glass in your hand.

 “I won’t keep you for long. What happened?”

 “Tonight I celebrated my promotion and a colleague recommended this place. To find out that – Jensen, I believe his name is – added the entire fish menu and three bottles of your exclusive champagne to my bill. Only to justify it with -- the other customers told me that you would pay for them – kinda bullshit” anger returning you gulped down the strong spirit.

 “I apologize for the experience. How about we forget this night? I want you to come back somewhere next week. Let us wine and dine you, give you the experience you deserved to have had tonight.” He took a sip from his own glass looking at you with darkened yet hopeful eyes.

 It had been a tempting offer, was it going to be worth your time or would you be left disappointed again? “You know what, fine. I’ll be here next week, same time, same day.”

 How’s it going?

One week later

Everything in you had screamed not to continue the night in Ransom’s office. Yet here you we, having had that hard liquor burning down your throat. He’d explained how you owed him now and that his interest in your aggression -- a week prior -- had sparked his desire. There was no going back, there was no way out.

 Ransom’s looking forward to what is to come. For now, he’s cherishing this moment, he loves the switch being pulled, when the terror fills your eyes and start to physically fight him. They always did and he knows you will too, within the soundproof walls screaming when there is still fight left.

 Your mind still trying to comprehend his plans for you. You weren’t sure what to say, instead you settled on staring back at him. Your optic view taking in his well-build frame. You licked your lips unknowingly when he flexed his pecks under the crisp white button down. Your body betraying you by your crossed legs clenching together.

 “Like what you see, precious?” your wandering gaze shot up to meet his eyes, your cheeks blushed as you got caught in the act “-I am certainly liking what I’m seeing”

 “Don’t flatter yourself, Mister Drysdale” you roll your eyes, leaning forward to set the empty tumbler on his desk. He’d taken a step sideways having his crotch right in your face. “Is this really how you want to settle this?”

 “Ransom, I insist -- and funny you should ask.” He looks amused by your question “This is exactly how we’re going to finish this extravaganza I offered you”

 He was on you before you could even make a comeback. His strong arms had lifted you from the chair, kissing you roughly. A strong – almost painful – hold on your neck, other on your hip pushing you into him feeling his stiff shaft probing against your lower belly.

 You felt the shame rising as you let out a moan. His free hand hiking up your skirt, ripping your panties with his calloused hands. The sound snapped you back to reality of what was happening. You tried to push him off, but struggled in his strong grasp. Grabbing his wrist digging your nails in into his flesh.

 “You evil spawn.” He roared crushing the grip on your neck, making you squirm “I was going to make this a pleasant thing, but now I’ll take what’s mine.”

 “Rail me daddy.” You taunted, you knew you shouldn’t, but there was nothing left to loose.

 “That mouth on you little minx. Not one to deny requests though, so the pleasure will be all mine -- Until.That.Cunt.Is.All.Fucked.Out.” with each word spoken he had rubbed himself on you, the heat in your pussy rising unwillingly.

 “I just didn’t know you were running a brothel.”

 “This is not a brothel, there are no prostitutes at this address. Just woman with disrespecting mouths like yours solicited for exclusive places like mine” Ransom muses “Because you’re staying right here – with me” He forces your neck to bend uncomfortably forcing you to look into his darkened orbs.

 Trying to fight him, but failed under his strength. Your body surrendering to his brutal force pressing you into the mahogany wood. The chime of his belt and zip being undone echoing through the room.

 “Don’t please.” You begged trying to get out of this horrible nightmare. A wrong encounter because of being wrongly charged for items you didn’t consume.

 “Let’s play a little game first; if those panties aren’t drenched - I’ll let you go” Keening at the cool air hitting your clit when Ransom’s hands opened your wet lips. “But – if that sweet little honey pot of yours is soaked for me, I’ll fuck you open with just my cock and you’ll stay right here -- forever.”

 “No.” you protested.

 His whispered confession only proved his twisted game. “I think you and I both know what it will be.” His fingers played with your clit and prodded your entrance. A soft wail escaped at his given attention. “I think you’ll be a nice addition to my selection of ladies.” Ransom couldn’t help but smirk at your powerless expression. His confession only added to the unwavering pain of realization that you were stuck in this newfound imprisonment.

 Thumbs pressing into your ass, his other fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He slams into your fluttering cunt, the air leaving your body from his unforgiving pace. You scream loudly at the unwanted pleasure.

 You’re fully trapped underneath Ransom’s body, impaling you from behind continuously. “Scream for me!” It’s an order you won’t obey and you squeak when he balls your hair in his fist “Fierce little minxes like yourself are made for places like mine” Ransom growls into your ear. “Let me hear those gorgeous sounds, precious. Scream while you still can before it vanishes. No-one can hear you, scream for ME.”

 Ransom’s arm finds its way around your neck jerking you into his toned chest, your hips being bruised from the impact of the wood. Your hands grip his arm trying to loosen the chokehold, fighting for air into your lungs only to have it escape with every rut inwards. His free hand rubbing circles on your pulsating bead, his pleasured grunts making your stomach churn.

 Pleasure taken from your - desperate, powerless and giving - body in his arms. He ravishes your body, like you’re his personal favourite fucktoy. Your legs start to tremble and your orgasm builds rapidly under the abuse, little whimpers escaping you. Tears streaming down your cheeks at the realisation of being solicited for a brothel.

 Only seconds later your body surrendered to the fire within you, screaming out to Ransom while your body shook heavily in his hold. His arms let you go, your quivering body dropping on the desk, panting from the intense build orgasm. The lost air stings with every inhale, you’re too tired to fight him.

 Ransom sat down in his leather chair and picked up the phone. You tried to look away from him, but he is fast to grab your hair and keep the intense stare. Ransom’s pride beams, he’s a heartless beast. He’s always gotten what he wanted and you’re just a new addition to his elite gentlemen’s club.

 “Barber? Yes! She’s definitely the one. How I know? She’s fucked out on my desk, tight little cunt on her. Perfect for the job, draw up the contract will you” A snarled order followed by a darkened smile and filthy wink thrown your way. “Her mouth looks exquisite; I’ll make sure to reserve it for your cock. So she can suck it as a thank you!”

#synths5kfollowerchallenge #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale × reader #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale smut #chris evans smut #lilo writing