#a select few others have seen Masque's face

[d-criss-news]

1883magazine.com

Darren Criss

On his new EP ‘Masquerade,’ the multi-talented Darren Criss welcomes everyone to the party.

Throughout his career, Darren Criss has never been one to shy away from boundaries. As an actor, he has won numerous awards and critical acclaim for his portrayal of Andrew Cunanan in Ryan Murphy’s award-winning drama American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace, as well as hearts and a cult-like following for his portrayal of Harry Potter in Team Starkid’s A Very Potter Musical. As a musician, his talent shows the same range; he is as well known for his ability to belt a broadway ballad as he is for his covers of Top 40 hits on Glee.

For Criss, this is because all music is simply music. Musicians and listeners alike need not box themselves into certain genres and while this concept is currently growing in mainstream media, it is one Criss has known since he was a teenager. At Warped Tour, he encountered fellow San Franciscans Me First and the Gimme Gimmes, a punk-rock cover band that specializes in the unexpected (their most played track on Spotify is Country Roads.). Inspired by what he’s always known was possible, Darren’s career has had freedom most artists take years to explore — and with his new EP, it’s clear that is the most recent chapter.

‘Masquerade’ is an exploration into Criss’ more eclectic side with each track on the record representing a different persona or masque for the artist. The overt character-driven quality of the EP lends not only to allowing fans to learn more about Darren Criss, but also to create a project where something can be found for everyone.

1883 Magazine spoke to Darren Criss about his perception of genre, his new EP, and the curse of creative people.

Congratulations on ‘Masquerade’. I love it. It’s so fun!

Fun is a very fair adjective, I would agree.

I feel like there’s a very cohesive vision or aesthetic to it. When you set out to make the project, did you have this end goal in min  or were you just making music?

Yes and no. First and foremost, when you’re dealing with the whole of what an artist does, there are so many different facets that make the whole piece. To start, I’m just a songwriter — that’s the main thing that seeds everything else. But, because I’m a creative person, I’d like to think that I have a somewhat cohesive vision for my projects. However, you can conjecture and pontificate over what you want to happen, but ultimately a project is going to come out how it does. The thing that ties it all together, hopefully, is the artistry of the music or the person’s voice. When I heard you say “cohesive” my mind was like, “Phew!” Because we’re all scatterbrained people and we just constantly pray other people somehow think that we planned something or we had it envisioned all along, so to hear that is an enormous relief.

That being said, I had hope for how the EP would come together. I’ve been leaning into this notion of a character-driven song. The dirty secret about that is all songs are character-driven; all art is character-driven in some way or another. I just use that wording to aide folks that might be perceiving me as an actor and to apply that methodology to music.

How so?

I always thought it was a bit of an unfair double standard — where actors can be in a horror movie or romantic comedy — and we’re still behind that person as an actor. Actors can put on a prosthetic nose or a wig and do different things to service whatever story they’re doing. Historically music has been a little trickier, but now I think that’s changing. I’ve always been a self-proclaimed genrephile. I love so many different kinds of things. Growing up it was difficult for me to really assert this without confusing people. Now, that kaleidoscope has shifted in my favour, because people are more into eclecticism and musical diversity due to playlist culture and the whole homogeneity of everything. I’m employing this notion of being an actor and being behind a character and applying it to music by treating each song as its own kind of character. I want the art to correspond with that.

That’s an interesting concept to apply to music.

I know that everything I just said is horrifically more cerebral than it needs to be. If you like the music and it’s fun, great. I’m just trying to help people out that might be confused by perhaps some of the cognitive dissonance that’s happening between some of the styles. At the end of the day, it’s an artist’s voice, literal singing voice, and heart voice — what they have to say and how they say it — that tie everything together. People are more accepting of that than they used to be. This is exciting for me because I finally got to lean into something that I’ve always leaned into my entire life.

The last EP you released was ‘Homework’ in 2017. How do you think you’ve grown as an artist since then?

For me, obviously, there’s personal growth and professional growth. I think my growth is much more technical — getting better at recording music or being able to translate abstract ideas into physical recording — the things that I don’t think necessarily would be seen on the records. Again, much like an actor, ‘Homework’ was me playing the part of making a very low-key, singer/songwriter record. I’m a big believer in dressing for a party. I had some singer/songwriter songs that I wanted to honour. Each record I release shows a different version of myself that I haven’t gotten around to sharing.

The songs on ‘Masquerade’ are not like, “oh man in the past few years, I’ve suddenly become this person.” The EP was me finally getting in touch with my more Garage Band musician roots that I hadn’t been able to flex. It made sense to me to finally make this music. I had linked up with people that I thought could help me bring it to life in a way that hadn’t been done before and I felt like the timing was right. As I mentioned, it seemed like audiences might be a little more privy to this kind of thing.

I don’t want to be so stubborn as to think that there hasn’t been growth. I’ve been so lucky as an actor, that I’ve been busy as an actor. The only obstacle to me putting out more music, which I wish I was doing all the time, is time. I’m not an artist that just shows up, sings, and checks out. I’m writing, I’m producing, and I’m really in the weeds. It takes a great deal of investment, emotionally and mentally when I make music.

So, when you say, “you wish you were always releasing music,” do you mean to imply you have more music or at least ideas for more music?

I think the curse of creative people is that our ideas move faster than our bodies can execute. What this inevitably will create is a huge queue of unattended things that you will always be haunted by. From there, you have to catch as catch can. At any given moment, there’s still so much more in the queue that I want to put out. It literally took a global shutdown for me to finally have the time to look at the said queue, and say, “Okay, which project do I not only really want to do, but also do I have the resources to do and do I think fits into where I am right now?” Because I’m very cognisant of l where I am in my career. I have this huge selection of songs and when I have the time to focus on music, I go through and pick the ones I think fit where I am mentally and how I think other people are feeling.

With all these different genres of music you’ve released and all the music-centric projects that you’ve been a part of, is there a type of music that you enjoy performing the most?

I would say everything, but I don’t mean that in a way to just include everything. By nature, I’m a dot connector; I like shortening the distance between two things as much as possible and showing people how they can coexist. It’s my MO personally and professionally. Genre, while it has a lot to do with the cultural background and history of a type of music, is the boxes that we’ve arbitrarily made up to categorize and market music. I’m completely nondenominational when it comes to genre because all I can hear is chords, melody, and lyrics. It’s never been separated to me. When I’m performing live, I relish getting to lean in and bring together genres. I love using the setlist to show an audience how similar different genres are. For example, I’ll play a punk rock song and right after that I’ll sit at the piano and sing a ballad. My voice will be a little different, but it’s still my voice. Just like in acting, no matter what character an actor is portraying, it’s still their face and their body. Trying to minimize a distance between genres when I perform is an exciting prospect because I like getting audiences to rethink what they think they know about the differences between genre and how really at the end of the day it’s all just storytelling. So…I like performing it all.

I didn’t say you couldn’t say you liked everything. [Chuckles] That’s a perfectly acceptable answer.

I like putting all of it together specifically to show the similarities. Historically, all the great steps forward in a new kind of art form have been by mashing two or three seemingly unrelated things together. It’s happening constantly. It’s happening right now. Culture is a constant conversation back and forth. It’s a sharing of ideas that ebb and flow to create something new. I’m not saying that I’m taking part in this ancient conversation, but I’m certainly enjoying it. When I see pieces of it that I would like to showcase, I jump at the opportunity to do so.

Since ‘Masquerade’ has been in your creative bank for a while, what would you say inspired it?

Every song has its own inspiration. The album doesn’t really have an inspiration. If anything, I’m trying to make sure that I can show up for myself. I feel like with everything that I’ve done musically, I haven’t gotten to represent who and what I am and what I do. To me, this EP gets me closer to that goal. I still think that only a small percentage of me has been represented and that’s just because of time. I haven’t been able to focus on music in the way that I’d like, but ‘Masquerade’ is a huge stride for me.

Speaking of you being on Broadway, Elsie Fest is Sunday! On top of it just being exciting because it’s back, it’s your first public gig in almost two years. What did you miss most about the festival?

Listen, even without a global pandemic to worry about, putting on a music festival is hard enough. It’s one of my favourite times of the year because I’m very proud of what we’ve built and what we’ve continued to build and expand upon over the years. There’s been a community that has been built around not only people that come to the festival but people that have been part of it. I’ve followed these performers’ careers and I’ve been really grateful that we got a piece of their magic and got to be part of their journey at Elsie Fest. Magic which I can’t take credit for. I just lucked out with having incredible people perform. Over the years, we’ve had Cynthia Erivo perform twice. The first time she premiered a song called ‘You Will Be Found’ from a musical that would open in a year called ‘Dear Evan Hansen.’ We premiered a song from a movie called ‘The Greatest Showman.’ Keala Settle went on to win a Golden Globe for that song. Last year, we had a young girl from Disney sing for us — her name was Olivia Rodrigo. Those are just three examples. There’s been a lot of people that I’ve been thrilled to see do their thing. This year we have an incredible lineup. Barlow & Bear are coming, along with Jordan Fisher, Adrienne Warren, Pentatonix’s Kirstin Maldonado, and Alex Brightman. It’s gonna be great.

The obvious and the biggest answer is getting to perform live within as much of a safe and comfortable environment as humanly possible. Luckily we’re an outdoor festival, so that’s already to our advantage. I will be performing this new EP, but there is also a lot of music to catch up on and a lot of music I want to share. I’m mainly excited to share it with other human beings. I look at performing as a service industry. Everything that I do isn’t worth a whole lot unless other people experience it because it takes on a life of its own. The audience is not there for me & I’m there for them. I’m trying to service an experience that’s bigger than both of us and create something that couldn’t have been there if both parties were on their own.

Before I let you go, I need to tell you that Tramp Stamp Granny’s is one of my favourite bars in LA. I’m obsessed! I haven’t made it back yet. Like I said earlier, the editor Kelsey is also one of my best friends and when she comes, it’s top on my list of places to take her.

Really?! That makes me so happy. You couldn’t have said a better thing. We’re open again to limited capacity. We require vaccinations cards at the door and we’re only open Thursday-Saturday. Talk about being with people — the night we reopened, about a month ago, I got pretty emotional. It was nice to see people just being happy to sing and celebrate life with strangers. That was a really encouraging sentiment because despite the use of digital communication which I do think is an amazing thing, we, so clearly, inevitably, yearn for each other. Despite everything, people were coming to the bar and were so happy to be there and be around other people. Our need for other human beings is a constant that is extremely encouraging to me as a bleeding heart idealist. It’s nice to be a small part of that.

Finally, you said earlier Barlow and Bear were going to be at Elsie Fest. I cannot wait for the Unofficial Bridgerton Musical and was so excited to see you’re involved.

It’s cool meeting them because in a much more organized and impressive fashion they’re doing what my friends and I did ten years ago with ‘A Very Potter Musical.’ They are insanely talented and deserve to be the huge phenomenon they have become. They’re the future. I’m trying to grab onto their coattails however I can. [chuckles] They’re just getting started. I’ve been a big fan of Emily’s for a long time. She hates it when people say this, but [mock yells] she was a child prodigy and she still is. She’s an amazing human being.

Masquerade is out now.

Follow Darren Criss @darrencriss

Interview by Sydney Bolen

#darren criss #1883 magazine #elsie 2021 #masquerade ep #tramp stamp granny's #homework ep #press #august 2021

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Back into the salt.  Like getting really mean here:

Based on what I’ve read in Marauders and X-Men Green, and some of the great points that others have made, I’m coming to a few conclusions about Duggan’s writing:

1. He tries to deal with serious issues, and he winds up fumbling them in a very clumsy manner.  I (and others) have already said a lot about how he mishandled the abuse storyline in Marauders, and his utterly weird “environmental” story in X-Men Green that manages to be heavy-handed and still makes the protagonists so unsympathetic and ridiculous that I haven’t seen anyone online actually siding with them.

2. He CAN write genuinely good emotional moments, as seen in the issue focusing on Storm and Callisto, and the moment between Storm and Emma after Kate’s death.  But he is VERY selective as to who actually gets those moments.  If a character is not one of his favorites, their feelings often get glossed over or swept under the rug, or treated as a joke, even if it’s a storyline that should be focused on their feelings.  The latest Harry and Shinobi storyline is an example of that.  We should have focused on Shinobi, who’s been at least a minor character in this book the whole time, but instead the scene (and the whole issue) was much more focused on Harry.  And I guess it makes sense since Harry just came back, but there could have been much more lead up to make this scene memorable and significant for Shinobi himself.  Instead we got Shinobi not understanding what a hug is.  And this should also actually be the start of a whole new development arc for Shinobi, but I suspect Duggan will treat it as some happy wrap-up ending. 

Actually, if I can rant for a moment, nothing about Shinobi’s “development” in this book made sense.  He comes back to life, is told by Sebastian that Emma and Kate are responsible for his death.  He and Sebastian are supposedly plotting against them (with Christian and Fenris?  LOL, never mind), but Sebastian pretty much does everything himself and faces sole punishment.  Shinobi has NO reaction to his father being obviously brutalized, and is now completely cooperating with Emma.  And even if we assume that Shinobi distrusts Sebastian and is even glad to see him beaten down, it makes zero sense that Shinobi would suddenly be on good terms with Emma, except that Duggan wants him to be.  And of course, Shinobi (and Christian) getting completely ignored while Duggan lavished a “serious abuse” storyline on Lourdes and Verendi pig-tail girl, even though it would have made sense to include them.  Given his history of abuse, the revelation in last issue should have been a much bigger deal for Shinobi, but naw, lets just joke about hugs. 

And I’ve already said many times before how Iceman, Bishop and Pyro especially get their “development” mostly shoved into the background or ignored.  No big emotional moments for them, no siree!  Maybe if they’re very lucky he’ll let them do something cool in battle or make a witty quip.

3. Duggan wastes a lot of time on pointless bullshit, while rushing other stories.  Look, I can appreciate character development scenes or even “everyone hanging out together” stories as much as the next person.  Hell, I would have killed for a full-length Iceman, Bishop and Pyro hang out at a bar story if it had actually given them some development.  And I think scenes like Masque using his abilities to help people at the new hospital are good moments worth putting in.

But there is SO much stuff in his stories that just leads nowhere.  The repeated warnings given by Dolores at the X-Desk about the poisoned medicine, only to have the issue completely resolved off-panel.  Fenris being in the book at all.  Shinobi going to retrieve a special sword that he never once uses in the entire book, except brandishing it at Sebastian one time.  (To be fair, Shinobi having a sword that he keeps as just a vanity piece is not out of character for him, but I don’t think that’s what Duggan is going for.)  Sauron coming in to X-Men Green just to waste time and contribute nothing to the story.  Both he and Black Mamba were obviously just padding the story out to add more fight scenes, but at least Black Mamba’s use of her Dark Force powers were interesting and got into Nature Girl’s head.  Literally everything going on with Shinobi and Christian, which could be interesting if it actually went somewhere, but it hasn’t.  Showing Lourdes hanging around the gate not once, but twice - okay, we get it, she’s back, but why do we care?  Everything with Wilhelmina.  And the very self-indulgent stuff he’s done with Kate and Emma, like spending an entire issue on a funeral for a character that literally comes back to life at the end of the issue. Oh, and then an entire issue on a welcome-back party for that same character, while some of the other main characters don’t even get to speak. 

Meanwhile, we could have used those pages to give some actual story presence and development to the actual main cast of the book, outside of Kate and Emma.  Or even the secondary cast.  Maybe show us what’s actually going on between Shinobi and Christian without these vague allusions?  Maybe deal with Shinobi’s storyline in a serious way and give him a proper spotlight?  No, I guess it’s more important to explain where Emma’s UFO came from, in a weird Star Wars pastiche that doesn’t even suit her as a character.

I haven’t been reading his X-Men run, but I admit I have been rubbing my hands together in malicious glee at seeing some people over at CBR start to voice the same complaints about that book that we’ve had about Marauders.  But to be fair, I haven’t read much of Duggan’s stuff beyond Marauders and X-Men Green, so maybe those are just particularly bad books for him.  This is all entirely my opinion, so this isn’t meant as an attack on those who’ve enjoyed his writing and his run on Marauders.  I might be completely wrong.  But so far, I’m not super-impressed with his writing. 

#marauders salt #general duggan salt

[minstrophywife]

DeMasqued

⇢Pairing: Art thief!Taehyung x Museum curator!Reader ⇢Genre: Thief!AU ↳[PWP] [Smuuuuut] ⇢Word Count: 5,383 ⇢Warnings: PWP - fingering, bondage, Oral, male receiving: face fucking, deep-throating, cum play, cum marking, videotaping, objectification kink, sensory deprivation (blindfold), breathplay, hair pulling  !!! Seriously if those warnings trigger anything, please don’t continue. This is just a smutty fic and is not worth your anxiety. !!!   ⇢Part Two of the Masqued Universe. [Part One] ⇢Masterlist

⇢Summary: It seems as if the memory of you isn’t enough, and so Vante decides he needs something more concrete to remember you by.

⇢A/N: I want to thank everyone for the overwhelming support that I received with Masque, and so I made sure that I got this done as soon as I could. I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations! It’s a bit shorter than the other one, but it’s full of smut. 

Okay but for real, don’t treat national art like this Vante. It was preserved in a temperature and humidity controlled room for a reason. 

DEMASQUED.

- Live with Action 7 News - 

It’s time to have an open discussion about the missing jade set which was reported stolen by the Seoul National Museum of Fine Art and Craft.

Min Yoongi: As we all know by now, the famous jade from the ‘Rare Treasures of the Dynasty Royalty’ has been reported stolen, as of this morning.

Kim Seokjin: While the museum hasn’t officially declared the set was stolen by the world infamous art thief Vante…

Min Yoongi: There is no other person who could have stolen it.

Kim Seokjin: Especially when he left his calling card of intent behind the day before.

Min Yoongi: Action 7 News has tried to come in contact with Park Se Hoon for another interview- however the museum staff and owner have declined any further media requests until further notice. 

Kim Seokjin: It must be damage control- I suppose the response is more tense this time because the government was involved with this exhibit this time around.

Min Yoongi: It could be seen as an embarrassment for the government officials, as I believe they were the ones to provide ample security to the museum.

Kim Seokjin: What I am more interested in is the fact that- even after managing to evade security, and not leave any evidence behind to indicate who Vante is, the master thief only decided to take one item.

Min Yoongi: *eyebrows knit together in thought* Yes, it seems like when he leaves his calling card, he only has one piece in mind to steal. This correlates with the other, previous instances of theft.

Kim Seokjin: Either way, notorious art thief Vante has been successful yet again- and I believe that he is gaining more confidence every time he sets his target. 

Min Yoongi: *nodding his head* It seems like it, He only let the hair pin set be viewed by the public for one day, before stealing the whole set. He must have especially wanted this specific piece.

Kim Seokjin: I wonder why? I mean, I went to the exhibit on opening day, with Action 7 News, and yes, the piece is visually striking and beautiful, but it seems like an interesting thing to choose to steal.

Min Yoongi: What do you mean exactly?

Kim Seokjin: I guess what I am trying to say is that, in terms of displaying purposes, don’t you think one of the many beautiful celadon pieces would be apt to steal? 

Min Yoongi: I think you are assuming exactly -how- Vante chooses to display his victories. 

Kim Seokjin: We all know that Vante doesn’t resell the items that are stolen- which means he must display them or keep them somewhere, probably in his own home. Maybe like trophies?

Min Yoongi: I’m re-emphasizing my point here… how do we know how Vante wants to display his collection?

Kim Seokjin: … I suppose you are right. We won’t know either. Because I have a feeling Vante is going to continue to be successful in stealing his next target. 

Min Yoongi: I agree. We are running out of time, so we’ll discuss this further after we are able to have an interview with Park Se Hoon once again.

Kim Seokjin: To commercials.

What were you going to do with your day off?

You decided to turn off your phone, throwing it on your bedside table, face down. You decided to avoid your TV as well- with the TV came the possibilities of seeing the news.

Anything to avoid the inevitable chaos that you knew was occurring this very minute. Was it a bit irresponsible? Perhaps. 

So you pace around your apartment, grabbing whatever random food in your fridge, and that book that you’ve been meaning to read since your birthday- a gift from your mother. You curl up on your couch, cocooning yourself in blankets as your own shelter. 

When you are reading you try not to pay any attention to the band of mottled purple and blue hues that lay across your wrists, hiding under the oversized sleeves of your hoodie. When your thumb brushes against it, you shudder. 

My perfect masterpiece.

Your book drops to the floor with a thud.

After that you fumble to put on some music- anything really- just to prevent the haunting of lips by your ear, and the low baritone of a chuckle the settles deep under your skin.

You are mine to ruin.

But nothing can quiet the amount of anxiety and guilt that slowly builds throughout the day, and soon enough your phone ends up in your lap- your face staring back at you blankly at the dark screen.

Your thumb hesitates over the power button of your phone.

You are mine to create.

Your thumb presses down harshly on the power button.

99+ Missed calls

25 Voice mails

120+ Text messages 

Voicemail 1 of 25: Y/N - this is Se Hoon. This is an emergency. I know that it is your day off however this is urgent.

Voicemail 5 of 25: You probably are sleeping in huh? Well when you wake up, you need to come straight to work.

Voicemail 19 of 25: *frantic* He stole the Jade set!

Voicemail 25 of 25: Hey, so Se Hoon flew me immediately from my consulting job in Japan. Text me before you head in.

Your eyes warily travel up to the clock on the wall of your office, and you groan outwardly when you see the time. It looks like another late night tonight. The first night you braved the museum and the shouts of Se Hoon, you accidentally fell asleep on the couch in your office to rest your eyes, and the resulting cold and aching muscles prompted you to bring a blanket and a pillow the next day, and honestly, you do not regret your decision one bit. It has been a trend the last couple of days, and the hour or two of rest in between more work helps immensely.

The chaos that ensued at the museum over the preceding few days was surreal. The exhibit seems to have drawn in a far more larger crowd that even on opening day- you suspect everyone wants to see for themselves if, in fact, Vante did take the jade set.

Art displayed upon art.

In fact- a nap sounds really good.

But, if you can push through, tonight should be the last night you need to stay late at the museum- after numerous (long, drawn out and almost unnecessary) meetings with the board of trustees, the conclusion that was reached  that some sort of replacement for the exhibit needed to be selected. It would be the quickest way to divert the public’s attention from the missing jade set (no it won’t), the officials concluded.

Which, of course, that responsibility landed on you. So after more meetings, and more discussions and countless hours of pouring through the museum and the government’s own personal collection, a decision was finally reached- one of the beautiful hanbok’s worn by Joseon dynasty elite.  Tonight you needed to select which one, before handing it off to be displayed properly the tomorrow.

Which means you have to search the large warehouse basement of the museum. 

You really don’t want to get up from your desk, but the promise of sleep in your own bed rather than the office sofa is what finally motivates you to rise, and you grab the catalogue before you head downstairs to the basement.

As you are in the elevator, you shiver- perhaps its the pull of sleep or your body weary from long nights- either way you wish you wore something a bit warmer to work today, instead of your silken dress shirt. It was the comfiest thing you had while still looking formal. 

Curse the meetings with the officials. You should have brought pajamas to change into you think bitterly.

The elevator door opens with a soft -ding- and you walk out in a daze. It’s eerily quiet in the basement- you hear the slight hum from the fluorescents above your head, your shoes clack almost too loudly down the hallway.

You arrive at the door soon enough.

Waving your ID card in front of the door, as well as using the consistently rotating key code that Se Hoon provided to you for this evening, you walk into the room. The basement storage is cool and dark when you step into it- you blink your eyes as you attempt to adjust to the darkness. The museum storage room is temperature and humidity controlled- as invaluable pieces of art need to be handled with the most care. 

Where is that light switch? You fumble along the wall, and another shiver passes through you- this time starting at the base of your spine, but it doesn’t fade- it lingers, almost like a sneeze that wants to escape but fails to in agitation- and this feeling is putting you on edge- your shoulders tense.

Just as you touch the edge of the switch casing, a trace of fingers encage your eyes, and a long arm encages you around your waist. You feel the heat of his palm through your blouse, against your ribcage. Your surprised gasp is caught in your throat. 

It can only be him.

Your heart quickens, body blooming in heat with anticipation.

“Hello my dear, did you miss me?” His low whispers are teasing the shell of your ear, his lips hovering but not touching just yet. Your eyelashes tickle his fingers as you close your eyes, your breath quickens as you struggle to respond- his deep baritone effecting you much more than the haunting of it. 

He must think you are shy.

“Because I most certainly missed you.” 

A soft cry leaves your lips. “Vante.” It’s all the confidence you can gather at the moment, your body too overwhelmed by the memory of his hands, lips, tongue and the very real presence of him behind you- and your trembles in anticipation.

Your reply stirs him, and you feel his hand leaving your eyes. There is a quiet ruffle of clothes, coat brushing against your arms. 

The way he presses you against the wall, along with his arm that still encircles your waist does not suggest escape, and you vaguely wonder what it means that you don’t want to move from him at all. Instead you lean further back into his space. 

You think smell a subtle floral scent- lavender maybe? Tease your nose, but you don’t get a chance to ponder the scent- silken fabric brushes over your eyes- and soon enough you feel the ends being tied together behind your head, the warmth of Vante’s arm leaving your stomach. 

You suddenly are hyper-aware of the heat from his fingers as they grasp lightly around the base of your neck. And then- 

Then, he’s pushing you softly from behind, but honestly you feel as if you are floating in space, Vante as your tether, your lifeline. 

You then vaguely realize he’s removing the clipboard of the catalogue from your fingers, and he’s twisting away slightly and your fingers clumsily try to grasp his hands- afraid that he’s going to leave you alone. But the presence amongst your throat never leaves, and he returns to settle behind you once again and you realize how foolish you are. 

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment. He must feel your flush on his fingertips, see the red blossom- because you feel the hand that had removed the clipboard return to your collarbone, dipping lower and lower to tease the edge of your bra. He lazily traces the lace trimming there, in no rush, his cheek rests against your hair.

“My beautiful masterpiece…” His voice sounds strained, a whisper as if he’s afraid you are an apparition. He slowly begins to unbutton your blouse, each syllable that rolls off his tongue is punctuated by each button freed. The blouse flutters down to the floor. 

He them teases the hemline of your skirt, fingernails scratch lightly on your thighs as your skirt begins to bunch around your waist as he brings the fabric upwards. And upwards still, along the curve of your ass, until he finds your zipper, and the skirt falls, the loud sound of your zipper a jarring sound against your heavy breaths. And then the skirt slips down your legs to join the blouse.

“The fleeting memory of my beautiful creation behind my eyelids whenever I closed my eyes was not nearly enough…” And upwards again, a finger runs itself against your spine, and you find yourself arching forward, your head resting back against his chest. You bring your lower lip between your teeth, not trusting yourself to let a moan escape your lips just yet.

Your bra quickly joins your discarded clothes, and you can already feel your nipples swell- from the cold, from seeking attention- you aren’t sure. He continues even further to the final article of clothing, your panties a cover that masks the most beautiful part of you in all. He hooks his fingers at the waist band, and drags the fabric down, ever so slowly. You feel a string of your anticipation follow, your panties already sopping wet, it breaks when it dangles uselessly by your knees until you assist- you shimmy it down, stepping out when you feel it by your ankles. Vante traces the inside of your thighs, too far away and yet close enough to drag a finger through the mess you’ve made. 

 “…not when I had finally created perfection and I just let it slip away.” There is bitterness in his voice, and his arms encircle you once again, pulling you closer still. 

You feel enveloped by him, ensnared by his long arms that keep you flush against his body. And then his lips are on your shoulder, you can feel new daubs of purple and red being added to the canvas of your skin. 

“Purple suits you the most.” 

You feel your body go limp, his mouth your weakness- you feel your weight held up by his arms. But then he’s lowering you, letting you fall to your knees your hands rest in your lap, a sudden act of modesty. The floor feels cold and you immediately feel the loss of heat from behind you. Another rustle of fabric, this time it brushes between your shoulder blades. But his hands never leave you, reassuring fingers thread through your hair to softly massage your scalp. Soon enough he’s spreading your legs outwards, and he grabs one of your wrists from your lap, long fingers enclose around it fully to slowly guide your wrist backwards, so that it meets the corresponding ankle. He guides your fingers to wrap around your ankle. You hold your breath when you realize what he is doing.

The sculptor is placing you where he wants. 

And you are his pliable clay, molded to whatever he wants you to become. 

Because you are his masterpiece. 

A shaky exhale.

And then he is binding the two together, slipping the fabric between the natural space that he has created, deftly tying them to keep you in the perfect position, And when he deems one wrist complete, he follows with the other. 

The ties- you imagine they are black, perhaps maybe the same silk ribbon from the first night. You grip your ankles experimentally, and the ties feel perfect and right and you feel complete-  you want to paint over the fading stripe of purple that has turned into yellow over the past couple of days. You don’t want the memory of Vante to fade away.

“I thought I would be satisfied with creating art, but it was not enough. I want more.” He’s standing above you now, in front of you. 

“Something is missing though,” he sounds contemplative, looking at you to try and determine what would look best, “this arrangement would look far more if we just had… I’ll be right back my dear.” 

And he steps away, this time no hand to remind you of his presence. Your breath quickens the longer he is gone- time stretches until you feel uncomfortable- what if he leaves you here? You begin to shake, your confidence wavers.

You jump when you feel fabric hit your shoulders. You hadn’t notice him return.

“Waiting so patiently for me.” He coos, soothing your tension. You aren’t sure what he has draped over your shoulder, but it seems to be jacket of some sorts, but it doesn’t matter because he caressing your cheek, and then a hand at your chin pointing it upward. 

And then you feel something nudge against the seam of your lips. He’s waiting for you its hot, and when you peek your tongue out to swipe at the wetness of your lip you taste bitterness. 

“Its time to paint you in the most beautiful luster.”

You realize its the head of his cock that playfully prods your lips. His hand grips the sides of your jaw, tempting it open. Your lips open wider to receive. Your tongue stretches outward, and you feel the underside of his cock land on your tongue. It’s warm, all too warm. You feel the thick vein that runs underneath, and saliva begins to pool in your mouth. He’s pushing forward now, and his other hand tangles back into your hair. Before it was soft and comforting, but now he grips at the strands harshly- easing you forward. He’s sliding in just a bit too quickly, your mouth has little time to adjust. You try to push back a little bit, but the grip in your hair tightens, your scalp begins to sting. 

You knew he was large, you remember when he pounded into you relentlessly. But now, as your face is pulled closer to the bed of his pubic hair, your throat protests at the invasion, and your gag reflex begins to flare. He must feel the constriction of your throat, because he pauses, and he’s wiping away the tears that have fallen down your cheeks. 

“Breathe.” 

You want to shake your head, but instead all that is said is a muffled and strained groan from your lips. You take a few deep breaths through your nose, the tension of your throat easing around his cock, and one final push. He’s buried to the hilt in you- and you feel his hands full of tension. He’s still holding back to the best of his ability. When he pulls back, his speed is slow but steady, and when just the head of his cock is caught between the cushion of your lips, you feel the saliva flow over, dribbling down your chin, down your neck. You barely have a second to grip you ankles in preparation. Even though you have a blindfold on, you screw your eyes shut.

He’s pushing forward again, his hands in your hair keep you at the pace he wants, as if you had control to begin with. The slip of his cock into the wet cavern of your mouth is easier this time, and when he’s fully in once again, you moan, deep from the pit of your belly that aches with want. It seems to spur him on- because his controlled pace becomes faster each time he pulls back and pushes forward again.

And then he’s fucking into your face, and you are trying to take breaths through your nose every time he pulls back. But he’s brutal, the lewd slick sounds of his cock that slides in and out of your mouth not slowing, and the amount of spit that has spilled out of your mouth is surely a mess. But you are encouraging him still, with moans as he’s using you, prepping you, molding you into the perfect masterpiece. Because you cannot see him, you realize you want to hear Vante coming undone. 

Behind your blindfold, you want to imagine his face, twisted in desire from your undoing. You feel frustrated- You want to see Vante’s skin, shiny with sweat, you want to see him fall apart. 

He’s becoming loader, his groans fall towards you, panting with need and want.

 Your jaw is on fire, an ache that blooms.

After a particularly rough pull, like an answer to your frustrations- you feel something loosen, something slip off your nose. Blinking away the tears that have settled on your eyelashes, you realize your blindfold has fallen off.  His hands grip tighter on your hair, the sting of your scalp makes you realize he’s close. You wonder if he notices that your blindfold fell off, it’s still bunched in his hands, tangled amongst the tresses of your hair. 

The strangled moan that tumbles forth, down, down, down from his lips to your ears makes you feel brave. 

As you look up, blinking as your eyesight adjusts to the light- and you see your own masterpiece. 

Because he blindfolded you, you do not see a mask this time. Instead you see a sculpture- perfection chiseled from marble to create a face crafted from Bernini himself. High cheekbones and a sharp jawline frame the handsome high nose, and perfectly shaped eyebrows, knit together in ecstasy. While you saw his lips from your previous encounter, you were not privileged to see his face in full. You are still not sure if you should be privy to his mistake- and yet you stare at him- awestruck.

You are shocked. Your hands slip from around your ankles, you barely register the bindings tighten when your hands press against he floor.  

You let him continue his brutal pace as he fucks into your face- momentarily distracted from his cock in your mouth because you are attempting to commit every detail of him into memory.

His head is thrown back, his mouth open. You see his jaw clenched, his neck bulging with tension. You moan once more around his cock, and he fucks into your throat harder, shallow but deep. And then-

His eyes are opened once again, and he stares back down at you- eyes widen slightly in acknowledgement that the silken blindfold is off your tear-ridden eyes, your own eyes not leaving his. 

So suddenly, you get whiplash-

He yanks away, and you find your lips almost searching for his cock in a trained fashion with how fast he pulls out-

The first string of warmth hits the bridge of your nose and arcs upwards towards your eyebrow, preceding spurts hits your cheek, and you then taste the bitter saltiness of him when it lands on your lips, and in your mouth. 

He does not let anything be spoiled- the cum that was not strong enough to reach your face he wipes on your collarbone, pooling in the small divot. 

You realize he’s placing his cum exactly where he wants it. Painting you with a sheen of milky white. 

His cum begins to drip down your face, joining your saliva in a mess and you feel like you want to brush it out of the way, especially when some threatens to fall into your eyes. And then you remember the other silken ties that bind your wrists and your ankles together. You whine softly in inconvenience. 

You see Vante grip the silk that had been your blindfold in his hand, a small contemplation of what he should do next. 

Instead he tilts head to the side, and while still looking down at you from his seated position, he grins. 

“Well it seems like the masterpiece can finally see its creator.” He has a slight hesitance in his voice, hesitant and unsure. It’s the first time you’ve heard his voice sound like that, and you take a moment to understand. He uses his hand to trail down your neck, fingers pressing until he finds your pulse. He rests it there, as if your steady heartbeat is an answer in on of its self. 

“A masterpiece huh?” You croak, your throat dry and itchy from his relentless pounding. “Art can only be so great when it reflects its artist.” 

His lips begin to quirk upwards.

“You’re handsome, Art thief Vante.” You continue to mumble, words now tumbling out in a garbled mess- you are beginning to feel unsure if he understood. 

His chuckle is raspy, and you feel accomplishment. Your feel yourself clamp around nothing. Your needs feel heavy inside your stomach. You suddenly acknowledge the sticky mess of your own juices, coating your thighs and the floor.

“You should be a model, not a thief.” You still do not dare remove your eyes from his, even if you can begin to feel an ache in your abused knees. It’s almost like you are afraid he’s going to leave- now that you know his face.

“Always for sharing- aren’t you, my dear.” And you shiver, as he conjures up memories of your first encounter. His hand leaves your cheek to trail down your neck, dragging through his cum that is beginning to fall down your chin. 

“Don’t you want to be selfish - just this once? You’re one of the select few who has been privileged enough to see my face.” 

His fingers press lightly on your forehead and he’s kneeling down to your eye level, and you feel lost in his eyes because he’s still not looking away, and so are you. You have to twist your arms around a bit, the bindings on your ankles and wrist bite into your skin further. But you are soon on your back, legs spread wide for him to see the mess you’ve made. 

Because of him, only for him.

You vaguely feel the fabric that he had put on your shoulders underneath your back, as there is no shock of the fold floor on your skin. He’s leaning over you now, resting between your thighs, his knees drag through the slick on the floor. A hand lays by your ear, another grips your thigh.  

“Now that you’ve seen my face my dear, I’m afraid I really can’t let you go.”

His voice is everywhere, deep and low, teasing your ear, reverberating against your body. It almost sounds sad, twinged with longing. His fingers take no time tease, your cunt swallows three fingers greedily. There is no protest, and he pumps with fervor. The loud squelching sounds that your pussy makes echos in the room.  You cry out, but its strained against your abused throat.

“Vante!” 

And then three fingers are replaced by his cock, already hard and throbbing with desire for you once again. The squelching noise is replaced by the wet sound of his skin against yours, his balls slap against you each time he pistons into you.

You both are a mess, a flurry of broken words between guttural moans. But you repeat Vante, inside your head and out loud, you aren’t sure anymore- a broken chant because that’s all you are thinking about, that’s what you are filled by. Him.

Vante

As he chases his second orgasm of the night, he kisses you, he tastes himself on his tongue as he sucks on your lip- and all you hear is the sound of your bodies connecting in a brutal pace. And the coil in the pit of your stomach is starting to unfurl, ready to snap. He detaches from you quickly, a hand grabbing your throat.

At the restriction of your throat, your world turns blank, your senses too overwhelmed too acknowledge anything else but the intensity of your orgasm.

 A needy moan keens from you, distantly you imagine belonging to him forever. 

And its not much longer then, because you feel him pull away to paint you once more.

The last thing you remember is the deep growl of-

Mine.

This time when you reawaken, you are surprised to see yourself curled up on the couch of your office, your coat turned into a makeshift pillow, and the blanket from your many overtime nights from this week tucked all around you. 

You curse when you see the time. It’s already 8 am in the morning, and you jolt out of the couch. You attempt to stand, but your knees buckle under you, and you blindly have to grab at the couch to break your fall. 

You see the rumpled state of your blouse, your skirt in no better shape. You wearily scramble to the bathroom, wondering what sorry state you are in.

When you reach the bathroom and turn to the mirror, you are greeted by tear stained cheeks and red eyes. Your throat is saturated with purple and blue swatches, deep bite marks littered here and there. 

But what causes you to cry out in alarm Is his dried cum still on your face, which he had clearly left for you to find when you came to. 

Mine.

You spent a good thirty minutes washing away the evidence of your late night tryst to the best of your abilities, but nothing can hide the sorry state of your neck, your wrists, your ankles. 

You sit in your office, until you hear a light knock.

“Y/N. Pulled another all nighter? You look a mess.” Its Se Hoon, and honestly his voice is grating to your ears. 

“I saw the Hanbok you decided to choose- thank you for placing it safely in my office. Interesting choice- you chose the rare purple silk.” 

“What?” You blanch, eyes blinking back in confusion to Se Hoon. 

That’s right. That’s why you needed to go to the museum basement to begin with last night. To choose a Hanbok for the exhibit. You never remembered choosing one last night unless… 

“Follow me to my office- we’ll need to receive approval from the committee and then you can go home.” You follow him mindlessly to his office, barely registering what he’s saying.

“You need to take a couple days off- we all do.” You nod woodenly.

And then you see the purple Hanbok, surrounded by white tissue, presented gently. 

Purple suits you the most.

The silk of the jeogori is slightly rumpled.

He wouldn’t dare.

But he would.

There is a brief knock on the door, two clear raps that echo into the office. In comes your fellow curator, Namjoon. 

He nods towards you, flashing a quick smile, dimples appearing and disappearing quickly, with an eyebrow raised. He’s probably deciphering your current state. You hide your wrists behind your back. The pink that dusts his cheeks means Namjoon has an inkling of what happened to you last night.

 “All pieces in storage are accounted for.” He says, addressing Se Hoon. “The audit took a couple of days. However nothing has been stolen.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, and now it’s Se Hoon’s turn to Blanche in response. 

He doesn’t have much time to react further, his mouth opens to speak, but before he a syllable can escape, he is interrupted by another knock at the door, this time the knock is a lot more frantic and loud against the wood. 

Se Hoon grumbles in response, annoyed at the interruption. 

The knocking continues, impatient. You can feel the worry through the door. 

“Yes?” Se Hoon huffs, a mumbled “this better be important” does not escape your ears. 

In pops in head of security. Eyes wide and feeling unsure. He has another museum guard cowering behind him. 

“Show him.” He says, stepping aside and nudging the guard forward. 

Your eyes zero in on the black card between his fingers immediately. 

In your peripheral view, you register Se Hoon’s eyes bulging out of his sockets. He’s really had a shitty two weeks, you think. 

“T-this was on my desk sir, when I went to relieve the night Officer from duty this morning.” 

Se Hoon is quiet. 

The head of security then begins to speak. “I reviewed the last night’s video footage, as per policy and routine.” 

Namjoon speaks up in place of Se Hoon. 

“I’m guessing the footage was missing?”

The head of security startles a bit, not so much that is obvious, but obvious to you. 

“That is correct.” He nods in the direction of Namjoon. His eyebrows are knitted together in confusion, an eyebrow raised in a silent question. 

Namjoon just smiles softly. 

“Now why would he want to steal security footage I wonder?”

© minstrophywife.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts pwp #Taehyung smut #Taehyung pwp #kim taehyung #taehyung #Taehyung fanfic #thief au #art thief au #bts imagines #bts x you #taehyung x you #bts x reader #Taehyung x reader #bts #bts v

[duraxxor]

Prelude of Myotis - Part 1 Benjamin Lewinters

Three months had passed since Duraxxor's reawakening and still not many knew of his existence aside from a select few. Though the Isle was a well-suited shelter for his needs, he and what few cohorts he had made the decision to move from it's sanctuary to forge one of their own. The location to this day remains a mystery despite the necessity of it for his inner circle. However, this did not cease his plots and contacts outside of the his grand scheme to locate and eradicate The Beast and his accomplices. One of his most loyal that he had no seen since the Siege of Undercity, Benjamin Lewinters, had kept tabs on the status of his children all for the sake of security and monitoring the movements of both Daevara blood and the opposition. But despite the Forsaken's use, the Faceless needed to accomplish having more eyes than what he possessed in order to accomplish this. And indeed, there are others that the Lord hadn't come in contact with for some time. Perhaps it was time to make a few changes. . .

Arcane magics sizzled and popped with the sudden appearance of a cloaked figure that materialized. Within the grasp of his left hand contained a wooden cane that appeared to keep the hunched individual fully supported even as he simply stood in the midst of a wooded hill. A faint scent of decay clung to the air that was only overwhelmed by nature's grasp on the location. A wild gryphon bellowed out as the individual disturbed his roost, spooking him to flee the location. " Gah. . .  I've really got to work on that teleportation... " The man's voice spoke between the guttural cough he possessed. Dimmed eyes peered from beneath the hood further up the hill to an cavern carved out from time's erosion. The exposed mandible clattered from the clenching of his skeletal jawline. Soon after, he would simply grunt before laughing about his own inner thoughts. " Daevara, you better not call me all the way out here just to screw around. " Benjamin slowly began to limp up the elevated terrain, cursing under his breath as a bone in his hip mimicked the echo of a tree limb snapping in twine.

Eventually the Forsaken made entry way into the denizens of this hideaway. He took three steps inward before coming to a complete pause, seeming to think for a few moments. " Oh. I almost forgot. . . " With a flick of his wrist, the chaotic flow of violet magics popped, conjuring a false landslide upon the caves entrance. " I wouldn't want any innocent Wildhammers or Whatever-tribe-those-trolls-are to wonder in here. " The sarcastic tone of his voice was as thick as the oxygen within the smothered confines of this path. A path which Lewinters willingly continued to tread down, noticing the damp darkness was growing to a point where he was consumed by the abyss. Yet, the man continued to click that wooden cane across the stone form each and every two second interval. A single minute passed and suddenly the clattered came to a halt. Only the caress of the cavern's draft created a soft wail through any whose eardrums took in the sound. Five consecutive droplets dribbled upon the right side of the Forsaken before he finally spoke out. " Alright, Faceless, I know you are here. You are always here before I am. " 

Suddenly, laughter billowed from the shadows and the fires of three rusted lanterns pulled the abyssal curtain away from the majority of this single area. " An organized man until the end, Mister Lewinters. Every time we meet, it always feels as if it starts with you painfully acknowledging my humors. " While the jawline gave way to a fiendish smile, it was clear that Duraxxor bore a masque that veiled both eyes from the Forsaken's own hidden gaze. The Faceless sat upon an eroded stone that gave appearance to that of a king's throne. The burdens of the dimly lit room also created a chittering cacophony from above, likely the avian minions of the devil himself. 

" Just like it seems every time this happens, you practically die or put yourself in a situation where you very well come close. . . Do you always have to wear a mask? " Benjamin grunted with displeasure as he tapped his cane three times. " Just get to the point, it's bad enough that the Banshee Queen is watching everything. You are not the only one with eyes everywhere. " 

" Everywhere? Hardly. Which is why I have summoned you yet again. " The Faceless tilted his head, continued to hold onto his comical expression with utmost care. " I feel as though I'm going to need more than I possess. While I have been busy grabbing bits and pieces here and there, it simply isn't enough. Real quick though, what is the status of the situation? " The talons of his right hand traced circles as if the representation of a continuous cycle was being presented. 

Another grumble was offered before Lewinters gave his answer to the masked man. " The children do well. Everything appears to be as you expected. Your father shows no signs of ill intent towards them and mostly keeps to himself. I have yet to find any traces of Telondra. Here's to hoping she burned down in that little fiasco. " The forsaken was interrupted by the sudden need to cough, sputtering ichor onto the floor in the process. " Hrngh. . . As I was saying. . . We have not seen your adversary or the witch in anyway thus far. However. . . " The Forsaken proceeded to pull some mysterious photograph from his sleeve, allowing it to drift towards the Faceless. The catch was made with ease as he appeared to be staring at it. " A friend of mine noticed that a Ren'dorei possessed quite the familiar marking on the back of his neck. It's very similar to the seal your family possesses. " 

" And where is this man in the picture at now? " Duraxxor asked with a hint of wonder and irritation all bundled up into his voice. 

" Butchered on the battlefield. Seems he thought he would try his hand with one of the Alliance expeditions for Azerite on one of the many uncharted isles. " Benjamin's voice grew hoarse in a brief moment as he continued on. " My cohort spoke of combat against this particular specimen. She claimed that unlike the other of his breed, this one appeared to weave the void in a strange, bestial manner. Perhaps a coincidence? " 

Silence descended upon the room as the two men stared upon one another. Once more three droplets trickled across the floor before speech disturbed the ambience. " I don't waste time with coincidences. I appreciate this little piece of information as a matter of fact. This actually has potential to help us identify His agents. " Duraxxor ascended from atop his throne and began to step closer to his ally with the pictorial clue in his hand. The stride in his step possessed confidence and a powerful pressure within it. Even the bone within the Forsaken cautiously tensed as he made his approach. " You continue to not disappoint, old friend. But I need you to do one last thing for me before I give you the fortune you desire. " The photograph slipped from one predatory claw to the boney hands of the living corpse. Benjamin rather than complaining aloud awaited this final task to be given. " . . . I need you to beseech Deathcleave. " 

It was at that point that Benjamin sighed with heavy discontent. " You mean that Orca of an Orc?. . " 

" Yessss. I mean one of the finest blacksmiths I have ever witnessed. I mean one of the greatest alliances I have ever forged in undeath in the beginning. I mean Dathuro Deathcleave. " Duraxxor's leathery left was placed delicately on his bound hip. The chill in the air signified the desire for this individual to be present and in his arsenal. All eyes were on the Forsaken from below and above. Not even Benjamin's irritation could hope to counter such a menacing sight that an eyeless individual possessed. " Do this, and I will give you everything you need. " 

The bone of his fingertips creaked and dug directly into the woodwork of his supporting cane. A light growl emanated from his throat before arcane magics enveloped the sockets of his eyes. " Fine. I may not like it but I know that I would rather do this than watch this damnable war break out. You had best make the vessel a well-made one. I will see to Deathcleave's return immediately. " " Excellent. " The word laced with content pleasure as he bore the grin of murder itself. " Look to Icecrown and return with him willingly. I will rendezvous with you to the north of Stormsong Valley with your reward. " Backwards steps were taken as the cascade of white radiated with crimson-imbued tendrils. The shadows in the back slowly enveloping him as a faint fit of laughter rippled across the cavern. The chittering, night wings flocked immediately wondered as a flock around and away from the Forsaken. 

Once more, the Forsaken sighed at the dramatics of this meeting despite Benjamin never seeming to care for the flashy appearances or the fear tactics that Dura implemented. But more importantly, it was the face that resembled a angered basset hound that made his discontent clear. " Orcs. It had to be fuckin' orcs. . . " A snap of his fingers was immediately given, fizzling an intangible veil across the surface of the Forsaken, creating an field of invisibility so that he could make his grand escape.

#Project: Myotis #Duraxxor #Benji

[zebraslovescupcakestoo]

Gambling bet

It's a booming night for gambling and auctioning. The people and whole place was in a masquerade like themed like the ones in a 19th century lectures I've once read...

But I was not expecting to be in one as a gambling 'prize'. I was in a cage, tied up from the back with a collar chained at my neck like an animal. My mouth was gagged to prevent me from saying or even screaming... even if I could, I doubt that will help me...

How did I ended up like this? Bendy DeMon. But his real last name is Drew... I was so close to nab him in that alley way until I got knocked out from the back... I was a fool for not realizing he had Boris Wolfenstein as his second hand man of the Alfonso mafia and now I've really gotten in a huge mess this time.

If I remembered correctly, this must be one of those black auctions slash gambling events only the social elites and exceptional takes place... Some of the items are from Europe and foreign regions that must have at least a thousand dollar value each! But there are some 'items' that are illegal like myself and I believed some dangerous weaponry or exotic animals...

“Our turn is up. You better not screw up more than you are now, ace defective.” I quickly looked at my right to see that demon smirking as I was transported to the stage as a center of attention. He was wearing his best black stripped gangster suit, complete with a black fedora and a demon mask. I gritted the cloth that was tied at my mouth as I glared. This is bad... I have to escape, but what can I do? This place is filled with influential and rich people who are no different than the crooks I've dealt with. If I do something reckless, they have the 'authorities' in their pockets to destroy me and anyone close to me... What would my father do in this situation?

“Our next item featured in tonight's event is a prize by the gentlemen  Mr. Dancing Demon. This one is one of the top member of the CPD and a detective. He's in no one's favor, but if you win the game against Mr. Dancing Demon, he will be 'yours.' You can use him as your personal pet, or use him to avoid minor incidences to stay on top of the 'law.' But if you found him too 'good,' you can always use his organs as a quick, pocket money or if you had 'desires,' he does have a nice body...” The announcer was treating me as I was a commercial item and I felt a lot of eyes gazing at me... I'm getting a whole mess of feelings of what they were thinking... But I can tell that I was an interesting 'prize' to win. I will admit... I'm terrified... If one of them 'wins' me, my life will be more like h3ll and then God knows what will happened to my nephews... My best bet in worst case scenario was to give them again to my uncle in Australia, but then again my cousin will trick them again...

I then noticed that there was a black table set up and there sat Mr. 'Dancing Demon' A.K.A. Bendy along his sidekick, Boris. His partner was wearing black suit and pants, but he had a large, grey fur over coat that made him look like a million bucks. He was also wearing a mask that looked like a wolf. “Mr. Demon, how would you like to do it? Auctioning or Gambling?” The announcer asked about my fate. I looked at him again and he thought about it for a minute... he then gave his answer. “I will gamble. I do admit I really do love the money, but this one... hehehe... oh, this one...” He was teasing me and then grabbed the chain. “I have sooooo much thoughts about this one... he wasn't easy to catch, but if any of you have anything that could give an 'equal' amount, I could just part with it... for now.” He then yanked me at him as I almost hit the bar. I grunted. Now I feel like his pet. “Now who's first?”

----Several card games later------

I can't believed that demon is 'winning' all of their money and some priceless items to boot!

There was a fairly amount of people who grabbed their 'pocket changes' and their values on this bet for me! Any card games like poker or black jacks, he wins it all. There's gotta be almost fifty thousand dollars in cash and value in total... There's a trick I 'detected' while I simply watched. If I can detect the 'trick' to anyone, I can use that as an advantage to unmask his cheat and then while they're 'distracted,' I can escape!

But what can I do? If I don't do it soon... Huh?

I then noticed the last odd person wearing a red mouse mask... that I think I've seen it before... He was also wearing a black and red detailed Chinese soiree suit. His hair was black with two curly buns I think I've seen them before. He was smiling underneath that mask and it made Bendy angry. I can tell judging from how he was gritting his teeth and trembling his hands. I then saw another figure who was a few inches taller than the other one. He was wearing another familiar rabbit mask. He was wearing a white with blue detailed Chinese soiree suit. His hair was also black but with twin pony tails... I think he's looking intensively at me behind that concealed mask... which sends a shiver down my spine. “Guess I can't see one without the other, huh?” Bendy said in a deep tone. “I can say the same thing for you and Mr. Wolf too. At least we can do fine on our own if we get separated.” The guy in a mouse mask said. “I should have known from your nicknames it was going to be you two. I'm done for tonight.” He was about to get up until the rabbit guy spoke. “We still have the right to challenge for the 'prize' as stated tonight's rules. We waited for our turn cause you have something 'rare' and doesn't belong here.” He then puts a suit case on the table. “What's that you got in there? Candy?” Bendy mocked the guy in the mouse mask. “Very humorous, Mr. Double D. But don't you think you're being unfair, again? My friend is ri-” *TACK! * Then there was a switch blade stab on the table that stun the crowd. “When I said I'm done, I mean I'm DONE! Just looking at those mask makes me wanna puke! We're leaving, Mr. Wolf.”

“What's the matter, Demon? You think you can't beat him in another card game? Or maybe you've ran out of luck because of the black cat's karma have kicked in? They don't like to be played 'rough' like you do.” The one with a rabbit mask smirked at him and it sets him off even more. “If we weren't in a social gathering, I would have 'loved' to have a couple of stuffed animal heads for my coats.” In a quick reaction, he tried to slash their masques but the rabbit grabbed his wrist just in time. The rabbit guy was then holding his grip really good to prevent Bendy of getting the upper hand. He must be a REALLY GOOD Chinese boxing expert cause I know Bendy is a knife handling expert next to his speed demon skills. “Still a karate freak, humping rabbit?” Bendy spatted. “I wouldn't even think of f#king with you with a stolen d!k, ya back stabbing demon.” The rabbit replied and I think he was glaring through his mask. I feel his murderous tension when he said that and I feel like I shouldn't try to make him angry if they win.

Or IF they try to bet on me.

“Guys! The host is coming! Knock it off!” The mouse whispered harshly and pointed an individual in white coming our way. They immediately break up before it escalates to a fighting scene. Under normal circumstances, Bendy would have done it, but I guess he's just 'behaving' at the moment cause I knew that he isn't the one who throw these kinds of auctions... And that there's other syndicates that benefits these events for 'rares' and other important 'essentials' for anything.

“Is there a problem?” The white man asked. Can't his clothing be any whiter than his mask?

“Not really, just personal issues. We both just wanted to take a chance of getting his 'prize' he presented. He can keep the rest he gained from others for all we care.” The mouse explained.

Just me?! Who are you both working for why would I be any use of you two IF you win? I better need to think of an escape, FAST!

“Mr. Demon. I'm sure that the evening isn't over yet and I wish to see at least one more card game of yours. Maybe that new card game you've made recently that became quite popular recently that's very challenging and tested your luck pretty harshly. Was it Double Memory?” He calmly questioned at Bendy after pleading for another game of cards. That made the demon perked his ears and I can tell from his mouth expression that interested him. “Oh? THAT game?” He then smiled wider and he made a nod to Boris as to hive him some sort of communication. The wolf reached in his pocket to take out two, unopened, cartoon Bendy themed playing cards. You've already have one deck opened already... Why two new ones and what is that 'Double Memory' card game? I did heard it once before in a rumor and nothing else... Keep listening.

“If I remembered correctly, that 'Double Memory' card game is  the same thing like the 'Memory' game with two exceptions. One is that it uses two decks instead of one. Two is that not only you need to match the numbers, but it has to be in the same suit. Like you need two exact identical cards to make a match.” The mouse explained.

“Correct, rodent. Now since I was the one who created that new game, I will choose the decks.” He then held the unopened packs together and held it close to his face. “Let's make this quick, shall we? I want to 'play' another but a different 'game' with this cat.” He then looked at me as if he had some sort of cruel ideas of what my fate will be. “First one who gets the most pairs wins.”

“Those cards... are they the newest toys you've recently released? They looked very high design.” The mouse innocently said. That makes the demon's grind wider. “Ah! So you finally noticed some better taste. My products needed MY personal touches on the marketing side and I wanted to be done professionally.” He then opens the deck and the cards were fairly scattered.“Compared to your father's puny ideas, mine were all beautifully well selected by yours truly. The design of the deck is far more elegant than the ones that was made originally.” The deck back design was mostly black with a golden like floral themed that resembles to a throne roses. I do admit it's very uniquely beautiful despite it was made by him. The mouse looked like he was in awe like a curious child who is choosing which ice cream flavor he wanted to pick. “I admit, Mr. Demon. You really did a fantastic job of making these wonderfully deck designs.” The mouse complimented. “I thank you for that, cheese brain. Now pick your first move.” Bendy impatiently replied.

The mouse took a few seconds to scan all of the cards on the table while playing with his index finger as if he was deciding which ones he'll pick first. “I shall start with five hundred.” I was nervous once he turned the first one with a four of diamonds. If he turns a wrong one, Bendy will have a turn... and he never loss a game yet tonight. He then reaches for another one across the table and... another four of diamonds! “Lucky rat... Just watch! I'll have my turn as soon as you fail.” Bendy rarely 'complimented.' Then the mouse took another card, a ten of hearts, then asked. “Say Old friend... I need to say this before I forget.” He then continues his turn as he reaches for another one. “I do admire anyone who's been having a hard time growing up as a child and made a name for themselves. I like it when someone who have a dream and they pursued it whether they made it or not. As long as they take responsibilities...” He flipped another exact match! Bendy then sneered his eyes at him. “The f#k you mean by that, mousey?”

But the mouse still has his eyes on the cards. “I'm sorry. Have I offended you when I said that? Don't get me wrong. I just sometimes have that envy of independence like yourself in your 'front' public image. I am barely in a position to make choices like you. The cards you made personally by yourself is one good example... I can't barely even ask for that... not just for marketing smarts... right?” He lifted his head a bit as if he's on to something. “Hm?” Bendy kept his cool and I think he was still sneering until... he surprisingly gasped as if he gets what he's saying. The mouse keeps getting the right cards as if he KNEW exactly where they are! Boris then whispered something like 'he's bluffing!' and it was impossible...

It then strike me what he means: Bendy have made these deck of cards specifically for cheating by making the deck designs HIMSELF!!! He noticed it like I did?!

I then saw the rabbit's grin grew wider and said. “You know, Bèndàn. Let me give you one piece of advice. If you're planning to use your 'front' business image with these tactics, make sure you're duly prepared.” Isn't that Chinese word means... ?!?! YOU ARE SO LUCKY THAT MY NEPHEWS DON'T SPEAK THAT KIND AND TYPE OF LANGUAGE!!! If I wasn't tied up and gagged, I would have a WHOLE hour of lecturing you and ask who raised you!

I glanced back at the mouse as he was pairing the exact cards... No way! How did he figured out his trick like I did? Then there was a final flip... fifty two cards were all flipped. The white guy was impressed and gave a small applause. “Bravo, Mr. Souris. You have won a well deserved prize from Mr. Demon. I do admit, it's a very rare find, even in the Chicago's crime syndicates. I hope you'll be treating him well.” I then heard the cage's door opened by one of the staff members and I was handed to the two mystery guys who won me.

“Hey!” Bendy took out another deck with a different design, but it was just a regular one. “Just give me ONE more round! I will bet ALL of the money and the priceless items for him! Come on! He's not even worth THAT much compared in gold values!” He seems like he was determined to keep me for his 'interests' or something like that.

“Nah, that crap you've collected doesn't interest us. The cat is all we needed.” The rabbit replied as he held me close. I feel something in my chest. What is this feeling? Relief or was it...? No, never mind that. It must be stress over tonight's 'activity' and I'm not thinking straight right now.

Bendy was not done talking. “I'm not letting him go THAT easy! There's a rule about-”

“A penalty fine if we declined and leave the auction before the announcement is over, correct?” The mouse interrupted him. “Yes. It's a one thousand dollar fine to the organizer of tonight's event.” Boris cleared that specific rule.

“Okay! There!” The mouse then tossed another five hundred on the table, both Bendy and Boris choked. They weren't the only ones that were surprised. Who are they behind those masks and how rich they are? Not even Bendy would have bluffed or put that much amount for anyone but Boris.

“Oh! And before we forget...” The mouse said something but before I get to hear it, there was a bag that covered my head and the rest of that memory was blurred....

-------

It was all just twists and turns with the walks, cars and doors. I feel like it's one of those movies where they catch a 'suspicious' character and they brought them at their secret hiding spot, and I was the 'star.' How Ironic.

But what's really going on in my mind is who are they, what would they want with me now that I'm in their 'possessions' and how do I get out of this?

Paying all back wasn't exactly an option... I don't want to become their puppet like Bendy does with the other police men and women either...

I was then tossed on my back and was hand cuffed over my head. Judging from what I felt and positioned, I'm guessing it was a bed. I then heard somethings and they talked in a foreign language. I believed it sounded Chinese, based on my previous investigations with those people...

I then felt the bag removed from my head and it took me a minute to adjust the dimness of the room. It was dim, with only low lights to see that it's a luxurious private bedroom you might see in social elite movies.

I saw only the guy in red, but instead of wearing the same getup from that black auction, he wore some sort of a red and white track jacket, along with a black vest, red tie, black pants and he wore a beast themed facial mask. His eyes were black despite the dimness of the room.

He then removed the gag from my jaws and I took a breath of relief. “Thanks...” I told him. I'm still a bit cautious, but so far they seemed to act nice so I play along for now. He seemed cheerful and replied. “You're welcome! It's been quite an evening. Especially for that dancing demon himself. That card trick was very strategically challenging.” He then took out a card from the night table's drawer next to me that Bendy have made himself and showed the deck's design. He placed a finger on one of the tiny floral. “If I'm not mistaken, there's a rumour from the 'underworlds' about a certain pair of eyes that can detect more than just hidden secrets.” He then lifted his finger to reveal the 'glow mark' of another hidden floral.

It was so tiny yet so convenient for Bendy cause he can easily tell which card is which by temperature. After a few minutes, they slowly faded away so it would avoid of him getting caught. Sure, it would take a lot of work to memorized ALL of it and mastered the games, but the effort will be paid off fully in spades and tonight's winning rounds was the proof of it.

“I know for a fact that he hid most of the packs inside of Mr. Wolf's overcoat for heat and two more in his own pockets for the Double Memory game he played with you. What makes you think my 'unusual' eyes had anything to do with that rumor without any solid evidence?” Is he trying to bluff me into confessing about my 'sight' abilities? I may used them to detect lies but... I do not wish to use them 'willingly' if you know what I mean.

“I'm not forcing you to tell us, but based on our own 'investigations,' we can suspect that you don't always used them as a lie detector.” He winked at that statement and I was shocked. How much did... no, it's too convenient. He's just trying to make me spill the beans! So I decided to ask the most important question I had in mind, but then the other guy with a twin ponytail, who had a similar outfit he changed like him, but in whit and blue, said something in Chinese and then he went to another room. The other guy then came over to me with some threatening yet calming aura. Like one of those cool guys... I sensed something intense from him, not just from his glaring. “Who are you people and how did you know who I was?”

He answered this. “We're just somebodies who doesn't like certain somebodies like that Bendy Drew you've keep an eye on. You're may be equals apart that you don't play dirty like he still does, but you might be prove useful to us.” He then stomped his right foot on the side of the mattress next to me, indicating that he's not the 'joking' type and that he's probably much tougher than he looks... “So you're saying that you're not gonna reveal your names yet I'm somewhat 'valuable' to your needs... Look, I know that I might not have known much, but I did guessed that you and your partner had a history with Bendy. I'm surprised that you even know his real family name.” The only people who knew his real family name were very few aside myself. The rest were in coffins.

“Let's just say... We 'we're' allies a few years ago before he became the new leader of Alfonso Mafia. Call it a mistake for trusting someone who was similar to us, but we're currently keeping tabs on him just so that he's not gonna 'surprise' us again.” He explained their relations. “You guys were allies? For how long exactly? And how much did you know-MGR!” He then grabbed my jaw and made me look straight in his glaring eyes. He had that deep blue eyes that are very beautiful... and very terrifying at the moment. I feel like a scaredy cat being in a stare down against a, intimidating blue eyes, white dragon.

“I just said that we 'used' to be friends, it doesn't mean we're still in touch with each other.” He 'clarified' it. “Ny-ok! You guyz are in neutrwal in 'public' evwent aftwer whatwever happened.” I struggled to say it and then he lets go of my jaw. I took a breath of relief before I continue. “So... why did you guys rescued me, despite you'll probably ain't gonna have all the money right away? I've-”

“Got two nephews that are currently in your care after an incident with your late father and sister. Despite that you had relatives that can raise them, you yourself wanted to care them instead. After graduated from high school, you went straight into the police academy and was an exceptional student. Despite your height, you had that speed, quick thinking and also that 'unusual' detection that got you on top. Of course, you also had a few friends like Sheba and Kitiana to help out, but after the incident with your own, you wanted to do your cases alone after you got more independent from the top brass. Guess what happens when you get too overly confident?” He took a part of my biography and explain it to me like he new me 'very' well.

I was stupefied... and I didn't need my 'sight' techniques to tell that he was smirking at me like he was taunting me to crack under his 'joker' persona. “How much did you knew about me before you 'rescued' me?” My curiosity tingled. “Just enough to understand your background before we... 'co-operate' with one another. You may be a sticker to the rules, but I can see you're not a slouch nor a corrupted copper.”

He wants to what? Co-operate? With people that I didn't know well aside they knew Bendy behind his public image? This is too suspicious. I then noticed that the guy in red came back. “I'm back! Did you guys behaved well?” He said in a cheering tone. “We did, just talking.” The guy in blue said plainly. I wanted to give my opinion, but judging from his actions and my position, it's best that I stay on his good side. The red one then asked the next important question. “Did you wanted to negotiate of that one thousand dollar debt? It wasn't exactly easy for us to get it... without being detected in public image.” So these guys have a public image? I mean, that explains the money but I don't recall anyone in the social elites in Chicago with those particular hair styles nor features... Not even the underground rumors here had people like them.

But for now I'll focus on that 'negotiation.' “What exactly do you meant on 'co-operating?' I don't work with shady people. Don't get me wrong, I really do appreciate for rescuing me from Bendy or in worst case scenario, sold to a crooked rich criminal, but I'm not gonna start playing 'dirty' for whatever you guys want do to get even with that crooked demon. I still have my standards!” I don't want to soil my father's honor in the name of justice by being crooked to a pair of vigilantes who hated the same guy as I did. The guy in red then broke it down to me. “Oh! I'm sorry. Guessed we had a misunderstanding here. See, we're not asking to 'cover' for us whenever we slip up, it's more like... keeping an eye out on Bendy until he's permanently behind bars. Easy, right?”

...what?

“Let me translate for you.” The guy in blue then said as if I didn't understand a single thing. “We needed someone from the law side that keeps us informed in this city. As much as we have numerous ears and eyes on these streets, we needed at least one person in the police department to keep us informed on what and where is this demon and wolf is doing.”

I wasn't that confused, but I had to ask. “Just that? You expect me to keep an eye out for him and Boris? Then what about that stuff about my personal life? I'm sure that-OW!” The blue guy then grabbed my collar tight, lifted me close to his face and glare me down again. “You are not in that position to decide on your own accord, remember? We can easily kill you, let you live or give you a more living h3ll.” His eyes were sending shivers down my spine. “You are 'ours.' However, that black cat's luck have shine upon you since we do show mercy. All we asked is that you keep doing your 'detective' job as usual and if we asked for an update, you'll provide your information from the law side of things. But don't say 'just look at the morning papers' crap, we know that you and your group of three don't always give the whole crucial evidences to the department.”

He then lets go of my collar and my head fell back on the pillow. I tsked. “So what you're saying is that I have to share classified information to a pair of vigilantes who used to be my enemy's friends so you may have a chance to get revenge like I would? And how can I trust you two if you're not gonna use me as an escape goat if things get out of hand?”

They both looked at each other for a few seconds until the guy in blue nodded. The guy in red then whispered a 'Thank you' as if he was happy to have that permission. Even with that mask, I can tell he was smiling. They then turned to me and the red one said. “If we unhand cuffed you now, reveal our identities and tell you our stories of how us and Bendy came to be, will you be our ally?”

I was surprised. “Seriously? Even tough we just met aside your partner had made a background check on my personal life?” Are they really going to risk their identities to someone like me? “Did I also mentioned that you've helped some people out of morale, despite that it goes against the law itself?” The blue one pulled that fact. “Like how you manage to catch a minor fruit vendor thief, only to found out that he only stole it to help his struggling working mother from hunger. So you helped them out a bit until they were fine and never reported it.” I was even more surprised. He... even found out about that? It wasn't to benefit my image just... I tried to he humble and compassionate like my father would have done it.

If... if they believed to risk their identities exposure to me then... “I guess as long as it doesn't involves the innocents or criminal activities, I'll trust you two... and I'll co-operate for now.”

The blue one then uncuffed my restrains and I rubbed my sore wrists due to extensive time bounded. I looked up to them and asked one more time before they do anything else. “Are you still sure that you both are willingly to risk your identities to a cop like me?”

“If it's going to convince you of how serious we are to get that double-crossing demon and his doormat dog behind bars permanently, we'll take it.” The blue one said as they reached out for their facial masks.

Once they removed it, I was not prepared for this. Even if I was just an underdog detective, no amount of police training was prepared for this unbelievable moment that only happens in books or movies twists.

Upon their reveals, I recognized those two faces from anywhere. “Mickey and Oswald Disney... Holey tuna fish! I... How... why...” I struggled for words. I mean, sure it explains the money but that still leaves on their vigilantes life style and other things that relates to Bendy and the Alfonso mafia.

And if this made public, it's gonna be a huge talk of the decade! I felt like this is going to be a long night.

Mickey then started to speak. “Well, now that we didn't need to introduced ourselves, how about we start our story? Say, how we met Bendy before he became who he is?”

----- Author’s notes ------

AHHHH!!! It feels so LONG to write a fanfic, even for a one-shot. It’s been busy and frustrating these past few months with the holidays, work, and my motivations that drains me. I hope you’ve enjoyed a little BBTIM AU fan story here.

So on a side notes, I did got this inspiration from an anime scene from the Lupin the 3rd series, ‘the woman called Fujiko Mine' back in 2012 and also the card game of ‘Double Memory’ was also from that gambling anime called ‘Kakegurui’ in episode 2. So I hope I’ve explained it well cause like I’m trying to be more honest, my story explanation sucked so I hope you might get that idea here and there.

Anyways, hope you like an alternate story line of how Felix met Mickey and Oswald in the BBTIM universe.

BBTIM humanized characters belong to Marini4.

#bendy before the ink machine #bendy and the ink machine #bendy #bendy the dancing demon #Felix The Cat #Felix #boris the wolf #boris #mickey #Mickey Mouse #oswald the lucky rabbit #oswald #humanized #fanfiction #marini4.

[theimaginesyouneveraskedfor]

Roo’s Classic Literature Writing Challenge

As my first writing challenge, I am going to provide a list of classic literature quotes under the cut for all you lovelies to choose from. I thought it would be something a little different for everyone and something to have fun with.  

Now you may have a few questions and I will answer them all before we begin:

Do I have to follow you to participate?

Not at all. I understand my blog isn’t for everyone and this isn’t to promote me, it’s to promote all of you lovely writers! It’s not required, but a reblog always helps spread the word for the challenge, too.

Which fandom do I write for?

That is entirely up to you. Your choice of fandom and characters. As well you can write Reader, AU, or Pairings. It is all your creative prerogative.

What kind of story do I write?

Angst, fluff, smut, whatever. They will all be accepted within reason (ie. no incest or non-consent).

What do I do with the quote? Do I choose only one?

The quotes are intended to provide a theme or mood for your story but that doesn’t mean you can’t include it directly in your piece. And if you want to choose more than one, go for it!

How do I get involved?

Send me an ask with the following:

               *fandom and character (s)

               *your selected quote

After you’ve finished, send me and ask or tag me in your fic and tag it

#Roo’s Classic Lit Challenge

. If I don’t reblog/like within a day, send me a message to make sure I’ve seen it.

All fics will be included in a masterlist that I will include on my blog 😊

When do I have to get this done by?

I know all of you have WiPs and all those lovely projects, so I will be generous with my time and set it for

Friday, April 20th, 2018.

Any other questions are appreciated and I look forward to reading all of your creations!

Quotes:

1.       “I like good strong words that mean something…” ― Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

2.       “My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.” ― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

3.       “Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape.” ― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

4.       “No evil dooms us hopelessly except the evil we love, and desire to continue in, and make no effort to escape from. ” ― George Eliot, Daniel Deronda

5.       “I am not proud, but I am happy; and happiness blinds, I think, more than pride.” ― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

6.       “I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.” ― Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

7.       “There was a star riding through clouds one night, & I said to the star, 'Consume me'.” ― Virginia Woolf, The Waves

8.       “I'd rather take coffee than compliments just now.” ― Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

9.       “Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Critic as Artist

10.   “Life, although it may only be an accumulation of anguish, is dear to me, and I will defend it.” ― Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus

11.   “I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.” ― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

12.   “Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It's splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.” ― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

13.   “As happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment.” ― John Steinbeck, Of Mice and Men

14.   “You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope...I have loved none but you.” ― Jane Austen, Persuasion

15.   “Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.” ― Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven

16.   “Tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it... Yet.” ― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

17.   “It's necessary to have wished for death in order to know how good it is to live.” ― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

18.   “I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.” ― Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus

19.   “We dream in our waking moments, and walk in our sleep.” — Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

20.   “There is but one coward on earth, and that is the coward that dare not know.” ― W.E.B. Du Bois, Dusk of Dawn

21.   “Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way.” ― Jane Austen, Emma

22.   “I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Happy Prince and Other Stories

23.   “What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?” ― George Eliot, Middlemarch

24.   “There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.” ― Edgar Allan Poe, The Masque of the Red Death

25.   “It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn.” ― Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

26.   “People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for.” ― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

27.   “At the moment when her eyes closed, when all feeling vanished in her, she thought that she felt a touch of fire imprinted on her lips, a kiss more burning than the red-hot iron of the executioner.” ― Victor Hugo, The Hunchback of Notre-Dame

28.   “Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is won by continuing to play in face of certain defeat.” ― Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man

29.   “I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable, I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.” ― Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

30.   “It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.” ― H.G. Wells, The Time Machine

31.   "It's much better to do good in a way that no one knows anything about it." ― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

32.   ­"It is a great misfortune to be alone, my friends; and it must be believed that solitude can quickly destroy reason." ― Jules Verne, The Mysterious Island

33.   “I will not say: do not weep; for not all tears are an evil.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

34.   “No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.” ― Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

35.   “Alright then, I’ll go to hell.” ― Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

36.   “The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.” ― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Hound of the Baskervilles

37.   “Some people could look at a mud puddle and see an ocean with ships.” ― Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

38.   “I saw the Cloud, though I did not foresee the Storm.” ― Daniel Defoe, Moll Flanders

39.   “After all, tomorrow is another day!” ― Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind

40.   “I look at you and a sense of wonder takes me.” — Homer, The Odyssey

41.   “We can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them.” — George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss

42.   “The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.” — John Milton, Paradise Lost

43.   “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

44.   “I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I'll go to it laughing.” — Herman Melville, Moby Dick

45.   “It’s better to look at the sky than live there” — Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s

46.   “I am satisfied ... I see, dance, laugh, sing.” ― Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

47.   “We learn words by rote, but not their meaning; that must be paid for with our life-blood, and printed in the subtle fibres of our nerves.” ― George Eliot, The Lifted Veil

48.   “Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.” ― Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

49.   “I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.” ― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

50.   “If you look the right way, you can see the whole world is a garden.” ― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

#roo's classic lit challenge #writing challenge #writing #fics #multifandom #classic literature #quotes

[jorjathomas]

Starting my Lookbook-Title page

Title pages are important as they need to show enough content that will not only portray their own message but additionally have something that would engage a person to read on willingly. It was important I did this yet not getting too carried away with it at the same time. My original idea which I had drawn out before hand is to portray the mess inside a males mind with the use of multiple images layered on top of each other near the head region of the model. I also want to add some dripping art illustrations using the Pen tool which I have also drawn in my last page to tie the book pages together. Here is my progress of this first page.

I used this portrait from the Phase One photography blog website because I felt as though it was good representation of emotion rather than a standard apathetic face. I also liked how the colour of the picture was black and white as this benefited my message being more visible. My main focus of this page was the middle of the models head and the content I will put inside their “mind” rather than the whole of the models face. I had to duplicate this image twice so I could cut the top of his head off and use it as a lid. I did this using the Polygon Lasso Tool going around the areas I wanted and then right click the selected area so I could inverse the image making the selected area still on the page rather than the background. I was now able to move the top of the head once making it into its own layer but now I was left with a gap where the image once was. This is why I needed a copy of the image so I could select some of the background of the image using the Marquee Tool and enlarging it to slot in this gap. I also clicked on the Image heading ,running across the bar at the top, and adjusted this slightly using the Brightness/Contrast feature so it could blend into the background without any harsh lines as I realised some areas of the images background were different shades. Using the Smudge and Blur Tool also helped me get rid of any harsh lines from the Lasso Tool.

I decided I wanted to add more primary images into this trend rather than majority of them being found of the internet. I decided to take a bunch of pictures of my hand positioned in a claw shape that could help portray an eerie environment to the page. I wanted my hand to look as though it was climbing out of the models head as if it was escaping itself to portray this concept a little better. I felt as though a hand crawl of the hand helps symbolise this escape and needs some people may feel in their life. I think majority of my work may be overemphasised as I find it hard to portray escapism and psychedelia through images without every image looking similar.

When working on my flyer I picked up this idea of cutting the bottom half of a model and turning the image upside down to shift the dynamic of the page a little more. I wanted to do this again but with this image of No Sesso SS20 collection so when I added it into the models head it made the work look as though a person has opened the models head and seen all its clutter. I didn't want these images to look neatly placed but as though they are all crammed together to help portray a persons mind better and how busy and drastic a humans thoughts can be. I used the Masque Tool again and then inverted the image so I could use the Lasso tool to cut around the the models legs and remove the background.

Here you can see where I've positioned this previous result. I've added my hand into the image aswell using the Lasso tool to remove the background. I have also added a Louis Vuitton campaign photo which takes up majority of the space. What I liked about this image was that the models not only had different poses which helps make make the work look more messily put together, but they were surrounded by flowers. When reading the article their intentions were to show the new popularity of men who aren't afraid of showing their “feminine” side, removing any toxic masculinity which I liked the concept of. I wanted to add this image to this particular page make it look as though it were the models thoughts which were completely different to his angry exterior. And I think how his head is now opened up and looked as though it is spilling out of his mind shows how dangerous bottling up these emotions can be and showing these trapped feelings doesn't cause anyone harm. Not only this but this image matched the colour palette quite easily as there is so many different colours in the palette rather than a few similar shades. I felt like I needed some more fashion content onto this page which is why I added the image on the left. The printed co-ord is by Wooyoungmi’s SS20 collection and helps gives the reader a glimpse of the potential garments within this trend.

I decided to create a mood board on Pinterest for this module as it find this app useful when finding relatable images to one another. When researching psychedelic art, I came across the Etsy artist Anna Sorokina that had created loads of abnormal editorials which I loved the idea of including in my work to show the abnormality of someone's thoughts when hallucinating into certain places within their mind. A piece of her work which inspired this stage of work is below. I started with a image of the ocean which I found of google. I realised a lot of these types of art were set in front of different landscapes which is what makes then so abnormal and what I might do throughout this lookbook. I used the Marquee tool to cut out thin, long rectangles of the ocean that could look like tears when I add them into the models eyes. I then used the Eraser tool to cut around any unwanted areas of the ocean around the models eyes so it looked more realistic. I realised that where these “tears” were positioned, they would flow over another models face. I decided to progress further with this step and use the Eraser tool again to neatly cut some of the ocean so the sunglasses on the models face were visible. This made it look like the tears were flowing behind the models eyes now which I loved the look of. I also kept the ocean image that filled the lenses area of the models face and used a filter on the right of the screen to make the ocean blend behind the lens. You can see above that the sunglasses still had their lenses colour but if you look closer you can still see the textures of the waves within the ocean image. Overall I loved this outcome of this section of the page as it further explains the emotions a man may not portray to others and keep trapped within themselves.

When looking at my work from far away, all the images blended in nicely which is what I wanted however not to the extent where you can’t see the different images. I decided to use the Pen/ Brush Tool to outline certain images with the colours from the colour palette so they were visible slightly. Also when adding the Louis Vuitton image on top the hand, a certain area fell over the top of my hand which I didn't want. I had to duplicate the image of the Louis Vuitton models and Marque the area I wanted and then used the Eraser tool to cut around the areas which covered parts of my hand. Doing this made it look like my hand was pressing into the flowers and reaching out over the models head. This could portray certain dark tendencies or triggers within a mind that influencing the need to escape. For instance a person may break their diet by eating some chocolate which was triggered by seeing it in their cupboard. Although this doesn't sound like the standard form of escapism you may picture in your mind, knowing the chocolate will give a person a short feeling of happiness from its taste, it is considered as escaping their everyday habits. As I stated earlier, I also wanted to add some sort of trippy art which I had already made in the back page of the book so I decided to add some coming out of the models mouth. When I finished this, I didn't really like how it looked against the other pieces of work so I decided against keeping this in my title page.

Here is the final result of the title page without any typography which I will complete in InDesign. I enjoyed creating this page because I hadn't really seen the any other lookbook laid out like this from the examples I've looked at. When showing this work to the tutors, I was slightly worried that there wasn't much dark psychedelia which is often perceived by a person however I didn't want to over think this as I know I will show this in the other pages of my look book. However, I will add aim to show some of this through the typography of the title name. One of my tutors also complimented my layout of the photoshop page, saying he hadn't seen anyone use a square page layout yet. Although I didn't plan on doing this any way and I just didn't know the ideal page size, it worked in my favour. This is because he said this size would be suitable for an Instagram post. I realised as because we aren't printing these out unlike previous years, it would be interesting if these where posted on social media instead as a way of showing the lookbook. As the world of work is taken over by technology, this could've been a cool way to show my look book to others if it was to be shown to businesses looking at trends, moving the fashion industry forward.

[harleen95-blog]

Mandelic Acid Treatment for Acne Is Surprising

A great treatment in the skin care industry is starting to gain popularity its called mandelic acid. It has been around for quite some time as a treatment for acne, fine lines and wrinkles, rosacea, and a variety of other conditions. Mandelic acid toner online is an alpha hydroxy acid, which is the key ingredient in many different skin care products, such as serums, cleansers, moisturizers, toners, masques, and eye-lift creams, just to name a few. It is these types of acids which are the key factors in determining how effective a skincare product is. Mandelic Acid, despite being around for many years, has failed to gain popularity, especially when compared to other skincare ingredients, such as salicylic acid, benzoyl peroxide, glycolic acid, etc.

Salicylic acid, for example, is the key ingredient in most acne products and we've all seen the multi-million dollar ads online and on television for Neutrogena, proactive, Clearasil; these products all contain salicylic acid! You're probably thinking that Mandelic acid toner lack of popularity until now is directly related to how effective it is...wrong! The hurdle it’s had to overcome is a lack of marketing from small company suppliers in the industry.

For the most part, small companies have been the dominant suppliers in the mandelic acid industry. This is ironic because mandelic acid cleansers have been shown to be a far more effective treatment for acne when compared to salicylic acid cleansers. This is in part due to mandelic acid's antibacterial properties which kill the bacteria Propionibacterium acnes. It's also effective in healing red mark scars left over from acne, diminishing the appearance of pores, and treating acne related inflammation.

Are you losing a battle against flaky skin? Does it seem as though your skin appears to age dramatically during the long winter months? If so you are not alone, many people face this problem. The good news is that there is a way to overcome the problem. There are multitudes of anti-aging care products from which to choose the most effective ones for you. Unfortunately, there are many products that are a waste of money because they don't include key ingredients that really address anti-aging concerns. One key ingredient is Glycolic Acid serum.

Is Glycolic Acid a Natural Ingredient: GA is a derivative of some fruits, including grapes. The most common form is derived from sugar or sugarcane and can be found in many anti-aging glycolic cream products, skin toners, facial cleansers, and Glycolic Acid serum. Basically (GA) is considered a fruit acid and is used in skin care products with varying concentrations.

Why is Glycolic Acid an Effective Anti-Aging Ingredient: GA exfoliates the skin, removing old, dead skin to reveal fresh new skin. It improves the skin's appearance and texture and hydrates the new skin while reducing wrinkles, age spots, scars, and other hyperpigmentation. Caution should be used when selecting products with GA. Formulations used by Doctors have a concentration of approximately 35% to 50% and should be applied by a professional to avoid damaging the skin. Those with sensitive skin might start with a glycolic acid facial product with a 5% concentration to see its effect.

#Mandelic acid toner #glycolic acid serum

[grimhappenings-blog1]

Poe Toaster is a media epithet popularly used to refer to an unidentified person (or more probably two persons in succession, possibly father and son) who, for over seven decades, paid an annual tribute to American author Edgar Allan Poe by visiting the cenotaph marking his original grave in Baltimore, Maryland, in the early hours of January 19, Poe’s birthday. The shadowy figure, dressed in black with a wide-brimmed hat and white scarf, would pour himself a glass of cognac and raise a toast to Poe’s memory, then vanish into the night, leaving three roses in a distinctive arrangement and the unfinished bottle of cognac. Onlookers gathered annually in hopes of glimpsing the elusive Toaster, who did not seek publicity and was rarely seen or photographed.

According to eyewitness reports and notes accompanying offerings in later years, the original Toaster made the annual visitation from sometime in the 1930s (though no report appeared in print until 1950) until his death in 1998, after which the tradition was passed to “a son”. Controversial statements were made in some notes left by the post-1998 Toaster, and in 2006 an unsuccessful attempt was made by several onlookers to detain and identify him. In 2010 there was no visit by the Toaster, nor has he appeared any year since, signalling an end to the 75-year tradition.

In 2016, the Maryland Historical Society selected a new “Toaster” to revive the tradition in a less mysterious—but still anonymous—form.

History

Origins

Poe died at the age of 40 in Baltimore on October 7, 1849, under mysterious circumstances. The Poe Toaster tradition may have begun as early as the 1930s, according to witnesses, and continued annually until 2009. Each year, in the early hours of the morning of January 19 (Poe’s birthday), a black-clad, presumably male figure carrying a silver-tipped cane, his face obscured by a scarf or hood, entered the Westminster Hall and Burying Ground in Baltimore. At the site of Poe’s original grave—which is marked with a commemorative stone—he would pour a glass of Martell cognac and raise a toast. He then arranged three red roses on the monument in a distinctive configuration and departed, leaving the unfinished bottle of cognac. The roses were believed to represent Poe, his wife Virginia, and his mother-in-law Maria Clemm, all three of whom were originally interred at the site. The significance of the cognac is uncertain, as it does not feature in Poe’s works (as would, for example, amontillado); but a note left at the 2004 visitation suggested that the cognac may have represented a tradition of the Toaster’s family rather than Poe’s. Several of the cognac bottles are kept at the Edgar Allan Poe House and Museum in Baltimore.

A group of varying size composed of reporters and Poe enthusiasts observed the event each year. A photograph, reputedly of the Toaster, was published by Life Magazine in 1990.

The notes

On several occasions, the Toaster left a note along with the roses and cognac. Some notes were simple expressions of devotion, such as “Edgar, I haven’t forgotten you.” In 1993, a cryptic message stated, “The torch will be passed.” In 1999, a note announced that the original Toaster had died the previous year and had passed the tradition to “a son.” Subsequent eyewitnesses noted that the post-1998 Toaster appeared to be a younger individual.

A note left at the 2001 visitation, which happened to occur a few days before Super Bowl XXXV between the Baltimore Ravens and the New York Giants, spurred controversy in Baltimore: “The New York Giants. Darkness and decay and the big blue hold dominion over all. The Baltimore Ravens. A thousand injuries they will suffer. Edgar Allan Poe evermore.” Never before had the Toaster commented on sports or other current events, nor could anyone explain the negative reference to Baltimore’s football team, whose nickname was inspired by “The Raven,” Poe’s most famous poem. The prophecy, a play on the last line of “The Masque of the Red Death” (“And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all”), proved inaccurate, as Baltimore won the game 34–7.

The Toaster’s 2004 note was apparently critical of France’s opposition to the war in Iraq: “The sacred memory of Poe and his final resting place is no place for French cognac. With great reluctance but for [sic] respect for family tradition the cognac is placed. The memory of Poe shall live evermore!”

Jeff Jerome, former curator of the Poe House and Museum, has suggested that the 2001 and 2004 notes may have reflected an unwillingness of the son (or sons) to take the tradition as seriously as had the father. A final note—left sometime between 2005 and 2008—was so dismaying, Jerome said, that he decided to fib and announce that no note had been left. He declined to reveal its contents, other than that it was a hint, in hindsight, that an end to the tradition was imminent.

Events leading up to Poe’s bicentenary

In 2006, a group of onlookers unsuccessfully attempted to detain the Poe Toaster as he departed the Burial Ground. Aside from that incident, spectators never interfered with the Toaster’s entry, tribute ritual, or departure, nor was any concerted effort made to identify the individual.

In 2007 a 92-year-old man named Sam Porpora claimed that he had started the Poe Toaster tradition. A former historian for Baltimore’s Westminster Church, Porpora claimed that he invented the Toaster in the 1960s as a “publicity stunt”, to reinvigorate the church and its congregation, and then falsely told a reporter that the visitations had begun in 1949.

However, published reports of the annual visits date from well before the 1960s; for example, a 1950 article in The (Baltimore) Evening Sun that mentions “an anonymous citizen who creeps in annually to place an empty bottle (of excellent label) against the gravestone.”

Porpora’s daughter said she had never heard of her father’s actions, but that the story was consistent with his “mischievous nature”. Nevertheless, Jeff Jerome pointed out that the details of Porpora’s story seemed to change with each telling. “There are holes so big in Sam’s story, you could drive a Mack truck through them,” he said. Jeff Savoye of the Edgar Allan Poe Society also questioned Porpora’s claims, but admitted he could not definitively disprove them. While never retracting his story, Porpora later acknowledged that it was not he making the annual visits, that someone else (he knew not who) had made the tradition his own.

In 2008 Jerome reported that nearly 150 gathered to observe the Toaster’s appearance. In 2009, the 200th anniversary of Poe’s birth, the crowd was smaller than in previous years—despite the bicentenary milestone—and the Toaster left no note.

End of original tradition

In 2010 the Poe Toaster failed to appear. Jerome, who had witnessed every visitation from 1976 on, had no explanation, but did speculate that if the Toaster intended to end the tradition, the 2009 bicentennial would mark a logical ending point.

The 2011 anniversary saw only the appearance of four impostors—immediately dubbed “faux Toasters”—identified as such because all four walked in clear sight of waiting observers (contrary to the real Toaster’s secretive nature); none gave the secret signal that only Jerome knows, a gesture the Toaster predictably made each year at the grave; and none arranged the roses in the unique pattern established by the Toaster. The faux Toasters’ appearance sparked controversy: While some preferred that the tradition die a “dignified death”, others urged that it be carried on, by imitators if necessary.

In 2012, once again, there was no appearance by anyone identifiable as the “original” Toaster. Jerome (who has denied rumours that he himself was the Toaster) proclaimed the tradition “over with”. “I would have thought they would leave a note for me saying it was over,” he said. “That does annoy me a little bit, but they are under no obligation to [do so].”

Revival

In 2015, the Maryland Historical Society organised a competition to select a new individual to resurrect the annual tribute in a modified, tourism-friendly form. The new Toaster—who will also remain anonymous—made his first appearance during the daylight hours of January 16, 2016 (a Saturday, three days before Poe’s birthday), wearing the traditional garb and playing Saint-Saëns’ Danse Macabre on a violin. After raising the traditional cognac toast and placing the roses, he intoned, “Cineri gloria sera venit” (“Glory paid to one’s ashes comes too late”, from an epigram by the Roman poet Martial), and departed.

This article uses material from the Wikipedia article Poe Toaster, which is released under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share-Alike License 3.0.

The Poe Toaster was originally published on Grim Happenings

#Baltimore #cognac #Edgar Allan Poe #Maryland #roses #USA #true crime #tcc