#and they took into account things that illuminate him as a person as they designed the set

[seetheothersideofparadise]

An Unfair Transaction: Possession

Ended up messing around with some picrews and accidentally came up with a new series in the process! I’ll show the aforementioned picrew pics later, for now, let’s get started!

Tags for this part: POV Whumpee, Kidnapping, Restraints (Rope), Gags, Brief Use of Needles, Drugged, Stuck In A Trunk, Sadistic Whumpers, Multiple Whumpers (2), Romantic Couple Whumpers, One Whumpee, Stalking, Obsessive and Possessive Behavior, A bit of Dehumanization, Scared Whumpee

—

Atticus had a pretty predictable routine, but a reliable one nonetheless.

His job was nothing flashy, just an accountant at a trading firm. He was one of dozens of office workers and wasn’t really interested in socializing, mostly sticking to his work. He was a good worker, always finishing things on time and usually early, but he was aware he wasn’t anyone worth noting. Maybe he’d get a raise if he persisted, but never a higher position.

Atticus woke up every morning, cooked whatever he was feeling up to and idly played puzzle games on his phone. He then went to work early, staying as long as they would have him, then he would take the bus back to his apartment, cook something nice for dinner and maybe watch a few game shows on the TV while he ate, then went to bed. Day in, day out, rarely straying from his routine.

It was a little dull at times, sure, but it was comfortable enough. Predictable and safe, no need to worry about any drama. He didn’t have other people in his life and that was by design.

That day had not been any more unusual than the rest. He made himself toast with jam and a glass of orange juice. He played sudoku on his phone until it was time to leave. Work had gone by in a flash, with Atticus losing himself in the work until it was late, only noticing at all because someone pointed it out to him. He bid a polite goodbye to the secretary and security guard when he passed them on his way out, the only people he had really interacted with enough to properly to get a warm goodbye back, and stepped out into the cool night.

When Atticus has boarded his usual bus, he had been thinking about the leftover rice in the fridge and how he could easily turn it into fried rice. He didn’t question who had been getting on and off, because there was no need to pay attention to such things in the big city. He didn’t notice how the person sitting four seats behind him had an intense gaze that had locked onto him the second he sat down. He didn’t even look up, not until his stop was called out and he swiftly pocketed his phone to leave.

His stop was a block off from his apartment complex so he took the walk in stride. It was cold out, but his work suit kept him warm enough that it didn’t really bother him. Atticus just adjusted his glasses and made his way down his usual route, the street lamps illuminating the way.

Absentmindedly, Atticus could hear footsteps behind his, but didn’t think to pay any mind. It was a busy city, even if the particular street he was on was barren. It did catch his attention a bit when the footsteps sped up, but Atticus had just side stepped, figuring whoever it was would be in a big enough hurry that they would just speed on by.

Instead, just as he was passing by an alleyway, they slammed into him from behind. With the wind knocked out of him, Atticus chokes, stumbling further into the alleyway and doesn’t get enough time to recover, much less process what had happened. They act too quickly, harshly pushing him into the brick wall and pinning him there with a practiced ease as if they had done so dozens of times before.

One hand presses against his mouth, gagging him. The second produces a needle from seemingly nowhere. Atticus’ heart pounds with terror and confusion, attempting to struggle from his captor but they were stronger, holding him there without budging.

His captor hushes him with a grin that’s wide and almost excited. The needle goes in his neck with a pinch and the containments are pushed into, causing him to freeze. It’s pulled out only when the damage is done and pocketed, out of sight just as quickly as it came. The shock finally stops hindering him and Atticus attempts to shout through the hand on his mouth. It only clamps down harder, more painfully, and the pained noise that escapes him is muffled.

Atticus tries to fight back and escape but whatever was put in his bloodstream acts quickly. He feels sluggish within thirty seconds, then his knees threaten to buckle after a minute. He tries to make another sound but it comes out pitifully, breathy and barely a sound at all. His captor chuckles, his grip letting up but still firm. Stronger than Atticus is, especially now.

“There we go.” His captor murmurs, petting his hair when Atticus is forced to lean on him in order not to fall. “That’s better— less hassle, right? Just a bit sleepy.”

Atticus struggles to keep his eyes open. He tries to speak but it comes out a whisper and abruptly, the hand in his hair tightens. His head is pulled up as his captor tugs at his hair and forces him to meet his expectant eyes. They’re blue eyes— bright blue eyes, he thinks sluggishly— and Atticus feels his limbs tremble with effort, trying to stay upright.

“Hm?” His captor asks, tilting his head. “What was that? Couldn’t hear you.”

In Atticus’ second attempt at speaking, he can’t get a single word out. It’s just a heavy exhale as he struggles against what has to be some sort of drug in his system. He’s never touched the stuff but he’s pretty sure this one is out of the ordinary.

“Oh well.” His captor sighs, rolling his eyes as if it’s a comical thing to happen. “Guess I’ll get to talk to you later, hm? You’re looking awfully tired.”

In one last fleeting attempt, Atticus tries to struggle out of his captor’s grip. His captor just laughs, and to his surprise, lets go completely. However Atticus just drops to the ground, as heavy as a stone, and then finds it hard to move at all. His captor just keeps laughing as it all goes dark.

Then, just before Atticus falls unconscious, he hears him say, “Let’s get you to your new home already, hm?”

—

When Atticus comes to again, it’s pitch black.

The grogginess sticks to him, making it hard to so much as think, much less move. He’s restricted from moving but struggles to process why. He can’t see a thing and the ground is… Fuzzy? Uncomfortable too. And shaking. He doesn’t understand it. He can’t remember how he got here, or why there’s fabric in his mouth.

Atticus lays there for a while, waiting for something to make sense and slowly blinking, adjusting to the darkness. Thankfully still has his glasses on, even if there isn’t much to see at that moment. He shifts, trying to get comfortable as feeling slowly returns to him, and finally realizes why he can’t move. He wiggles to get a good view, squinting in the darkness. It hits him like a truck once he knows for certain.

Rope. It’s rope that’s restricting him— tied tightly around his wrists, waist, and legs. His wrists are bound together as well as to his back, unable to move an inch. His legs are bound in two different places, around his knees and ankles respectively. He struggles against it, panic hitting fast and hard, but whoever tied the knots knew what they were doing. The rope is tough too— he would need something sharp to cut it with and he doesn’t have that.

His breathing picks up, causing a second realization to hit him that there’s a cloth tied around his mouth, gagging him. It only makes him struggle tenfold, and even if the odds are slim, Atticus tries thrashing as hard as he can to find a weakness in the knot. He starts screaming for help as hard as he can, even if it’s muffled. And when there’s a sudden bump, causing him to jostle, the last piece of the puzzle clicks into place.

He’s in a trunk.

That guy in the alley drugged him, tied him up, then threw him in a trunk, and is taking him somewhere.

He’s being kidnapped. The drugs are finally cleared from his head and panic overtakes it. Atticus is being kidnapped and he doesn’t have the slightest idea why. He’s not rich, he’s estranged from his family and they’re not important enough to get him kidnapped either and— no matter how he spins it, Atticus doesn’t understand why this is happening to him of all people. What they would have to gain from him in the first place.

His heart pounds, panic clawing at his throat as he wiggles and struggles. The rope doesn’t loosen in the slightest and it scratches against his skin. His breaths come in quick and breathy, struggling to keep up and his whole body starts trembling against his will.

Minutes tick by as he struggles. Then suddenly, Atticus feels the call slow down and come to a stop before parking. A car door opens and he hears someone step onto gravel and make their way over to the trunk. Over to him.

With a click, the trunk pops open. It’s still dark out but there’s more light than the trunk had, and Atticus blinks wearily, craning his head to stare up at a familiar face.

His captor— the same one from the alleyway— grins back at him with those same bright, blue eyes. He can see now that his hair is blonde, just long enough to tie back into a low hanging bun. He wears a long sleeve, red shirt and a white sweater vest over it. The second he sees him, he grins, and Atticus feels his stomach drop from the sight of it.

“There you are.” He says breathlessly, taking in Atticus like he’s a work of art. “You’re even better when you’re awake. Look at those eyes— oh, I hit the jackpot.” He laughs a little, and Atticus swallows thickly.

“I gotta show Lillian— stay right where you are, don’t go anywhere!” He tells him with a grin, then laughs at his own sick joke and jogs out of sight.

Atticus can’t see much from where he lays in the trunk but the sight of tall trees only makes him feel sicker. He’s not in the city, that much is for certain. He doesn’t know where he is— the sky is much darker than before, meaning it’s probably past midnight by now. They had to have been driving for hours.

Seeing the outside world makes him struggle against the ropes again. There’s no way he can get out of the trunk in his state but he tries— he has to— and when the footsteps return, Atticus’ chest clenches.

“You’re walking too slow.” The first voice— the guy from before— whines.

Someone else huffs. “You’re so impatient, Jasper. It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”

Atticus gives one last struggling attempt just before shadows are cast over him and he fearfully looks up. There’s two of them now: the man from before— who might be named ‘Jasper’?— and a woman, who is likely ‘Lillian’ in this case. She’s got light brown hair, light yet piercing green eyes, and wears a white long sleeve shirt with a dark red apron. Her eyes trail over Atticus in an appraising manner, like she’s deciding if he’s worth her time, and Atticus tries not to squirm. He fails when her mouth tips upwards.

“So this is the guy you’ve been so obsessed with…” Lillian muses, and Atticus freezes at her words. “I thought you were just restless and looking to latch onto the first person you saw but… I don’t know what it is but I see it.”

“Told you.” Jasper shoots her a smug look. “All that prep is gonna be worth it— he’s ours.”

Lillian doesn’t respond verbally, only smiling and never once taking her half lidded eyes off of Atticus. When Jasper’s attention turns back to him, combined weight of both their gazes causes dread to pool in Atticus’ stomach.

They look interested. Hungry even. For what, Atticus doesn’t know, and it terrifies him.

“Welcome home.” Jasper tells him, flashing a threateningly toothy grin his way. “You’re gonna make things so much more interesting.”

—

Basically,

Atticus: *Is just a regular, if kinda boring dude*

Jasper and Lillian: hooooly shit I NEED to see this guy bleed. obsessed with this guy. shut up this is the only thing I’m gonna be talking about.

And that’s all for now! I became obsessed with the idea of a Whumper Couple and just had to try my hand at it. There is more to come, Atticus’ life is about to get a lot more unpredictable :)

#Atlas Writes #An Unfair Transaction Series #POV Whumpee #whump #whump writing #Kidnapping #restrained #gagged whumpee #Needle #drugged #stalking #obsessive behavior #possessive whumper #multiple whumpers #scared whumpee #stuck in a trunk #sadistic whumper #Atticus is gonna have a bad time #obsessive whumper

[kykyonthemoon]

Wandering Stars (Chapter 2)

— Parings: ScaraMona (Scaramouche x Mona) - main, ChiLumi,...

— Other characters: OCs and other GI characters

— Tags: multi-chapters, rom-com, modern AU, enemies to lovers

— Summary: A gamer and streamer known for his insolent attitude and mysterious identity. An astrologist with many troubles from her ability to predict the future. The two of them happened to be next-door neighbors, and from there the enemies to lovers romance began…

— List of chapters: ♡

— Ao3

— Masterlist

— Hoyolab

————————✧————————

Chapter 2: The last cup noodles

[... That jerk’s still streaming?]

[After what happened with the newbie last week, he hasn’t learnt anything. Now he’s talking bad about his teammates!]

[Dude has no shame at all.]

[Well, it’s not the first time he’s cursed people. Why are you still watching his stream anyway?]

[I can’t have a good day without hearing Scaramouche’s dissing.]

[Why does this stream have so many views? You guys like to hear him cursing?]

[Popular streamer insults other people in public. Idk how this guy still gets many views?]

[Then why are you here watching his stream?]

[Actually I’m here for all the drama.]

[Disrespectful streamers like Scaramouche should have been canceled already.]

[Scaramouche should make another account to play with himself, ‘cause no one wants to play with him anymore. Hahahaha…]

The constant stream of messages coming to the screen like a billowing wave, fierce and carrying countless negative words. Kunikuzushi closed the window that was displaying it, causing the stream to end abruptly.

He sat back in his chair and placed his knees on the table, his hands on the back of his head. The ceiling fan was still spinning in circles, emitting a wailing sound. Even though it was just early summer, the temperature quickly rose. He blamed his annoyance on the freshly shifted season.

Kunikuzushi was a streamer who was well-known among the community of players of an online game called Genshin Impact. Of course, only fools reveal their true identities online, so he took the name Scaramouche from a song of his favorites. Even his avatar when streaming was virtual; a character he had commissioned an artist to design. So he didn't care much about the people he met online, not even the fans who donated to him. Because they had no idea who he really was.

Today was different. Somehow Kunikuzushi was more frustrated than usual by the words directed at him. Last week, he prepared a brief video pointing out some of the newbie's basic mistakes at the beginning of the game, all out of good intentions to remind people. But somehow it became the subject of other people's gossip and hostile criticism. To be honest, Scaramouche was a name that stood out in the community because of his disrespect and scornfulness for anyone. But he never intended for things to go too far. Those who had disliked him for a long time took this opportunity to cut and edit his video to label him the crime of making the newbie quit the game. What did it have to do with him, whether someone decided not to play the game anymore?

It was aggravating to think about it. Kunikuzushi rose and reached for the phone on the table. He quietly switched accounts from Scaramouche to a different user: Wanderer. Those people were somewhat right, he did have a sub-account. This account was created not so long ago, with no friends except one person. 

Kunikuzushi fixed his gaze on the illuminated screen.

Starseeker - Last online 3 weeks ago.

He scrolled up and down the screen to reload the page, but it remained unchanged. Three weeks had passed. Their most recent message was on the game's latest update.

Kunikuzushi was not a pleasant person, certainly not easy to make friends with. He was always alone, both in real life and in the game. He made a secondary account because he needed to plow materials for his main only. The advantage of Genshin is that you may play alone without worrying about someone yelling on the server's main chat channel, or whatever each player does in their own "world." Strangers occasionally requested to enter Wanderer's realm, but he always refused. Yet at one point he pressed the wrong button, and so Starseeker appeared.

At that moment, Kunikuzushi almost jumped up as a receding figure appeared next to his character. Just as he was about to kick them out of his world, the other quickly typed on the chat box.

[Starseeker: Hey there ^-^ Sorry to bother you…]

Kunikuzushi came to a halt as he watched the following line of text come onto the screen.

[Starseeker: May I have just some mushrooms? I’ll leave right after I’m done.]

He no longer needed that material anyway. Kunikuzushi responded briefly before departing on his mission.

Starseeker seemed like a newbie. Their character level was much lower than Wanderer even if it was a sub-account. Kunikuzushi left them alone for a while, but he couldn't focus on his mission, as the other player was continually losing blood and sacrificed on the way.

[Wanderer: Hey, stop dying, will you?]

Kunikuzushi sent a message.

[Starseeker: Well…]

The other player responded with a sticker that was as pitiful as their character. Kunikuzushi groaned.

[Wanderer: My world is at a much higher level than yours. The mobs are difficult too. Why did you choose to come here?]

[Starseeker: How come you let me in, when you know I was gonna die?]

Kunikuzushi seemed provoked.

[Wanderer: I’ll kick you out then.]

[Starseeker: Waiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttt. Please. I almost have enough material to upgrade my toon.]

Kunikuzushi remained silent. In his mind he promised himself that ten minutes later he would invite Starseeker out of the world. Less than five minutes later, they were already dead.

Sighing, Kunikuzushi activated the in-game map and searched for the other player's position, to which he promptly teleported.

[Starseeker: Why are you here?]

[Wanderer: Your gameplay is a punch to my eyes.]

Starseeker sent him yet another amusing sticker. Kunikuzushi followed the other's character silently. From time to time, monsters or small bosses appeared in the way, he only needed a few clicks to defeat them all.

[Starseeker: Wow. Why are you so good at this game?]

Kunikuzushi snorted. Of course he's good. He's the best at this game.  Before he could reply, the other person had already texted.

[Starseeker: How about helping me with instances?]

[Wanderer: I’m not available.]

[Starseeker: You’re not, but you’re still following me around?]

[Wanderer: …]

[Starseeker: If you help me become stronger, I wouldn’t be bothering you like this anymore…]

That sounded reasonable enough. Kunikuzushi agreed to add the other player as a friend and then assisted them in leveling up, finding supplies, and even explaining how to combine teams and other things. When Starseeker finally said goodbye, it occurred to him that he had spent the entire evening instructing a stranger.

When befriending a person in the game, the system would automatically add them to the friends list in the external sub-app. Starseeker was the only friend Wanderer had. They would sometimes exchange a few words through text messages. Through the chatter and various things Starseeker told him, he discovered she was a young woman living in Mondstadt, another nation. As for him, he certainly didn't reveal too much about himself.

Starseeker didn't spend much time online. Every time she went online she asked Wanderer for help in the game. At first, Kunikuzushi was irritated, but then he noticed that this girl was also listening to everything he said, which was rather amusing. He didn't admit it, but he'd considered her an in-game buddy for roughly half a year.

That's why the fact that Starseeker was suddenly offline for a long time made Kunikuzushi a little disturbed. Did she take a temporary break or permanently? What happened that made her not bother to say goodbye? Or… had she completely forgotten about Wanderer? He wasn't concerned at all, just curious. That's it.

Not knowing where this sense of self-pity came from, Kunikuzushi furiously dropped the phone on the table, then picked it up again. He texted.

[Wanderer: Yo. Still breathing?]

There was no reply. Kunikuzushi pondered for a long time. At this time, he felt an appetite. There were no snacks left in his room. He decided to go out.

It was almost five in the morning, and it was still very dark. Kunikuzushi took his bike outside, opening the gate as quietly as he could. The Yamanohana made private gate keys for each person who stayed at the inn, in case they were not around.  Everyone was. Only Kunikuzushi was constantly up at night to stream until daybreak.

The breeze blew coolly as he cycled alone along the vacant street. Kunikuzushi pulled into the main road and came to a halt in front of the familiar convenience store.

He and the night shift employee were the only ones there. That boy was so used to Kunikuzushi that he only nodded, his gaze fixed to the movie playing on his phone still. He took a cursory glance around the shop. As a regular here, he did not need instructions but walked straight to the rack of cup noodles.

Kunikuzushi scoured the shelves for cup noodles from Liyue's Wanmin Restaurant. A little over a minute later, he found it. On the shelf was a spicy boiled fish-flavored cup noodles that he liked very much. Kunikuzushi enthusiastically extended his hand. At that moment, another hand emerged from the opposite direction and grabbed the cup of noodles too.

Kunikuzushi's hand rested on the cup's lid, while the other clutched the cup. At that moment, their gazes met.

The strange girl pulled the cup of noodles towards her, but Kunikuzushi never gave up easily. He also tried to snatch the last cup of his favorite noodles left on the shelf. His uncommon body didn't require many nutrients from meals, but once he set his sights on anything, no one else should be able to compete with him.

“Hey? Ladies first, haven’t you heard?” She spoke up. He thought he had heard this voice elsewhere.

“Why should I do that?” Kunikuzushi responded. 

“I saw it first!”

“So? It’s my favorite. Go get something else.”

“I like Wanmin Restaurant’s noodles too!”

The two struggled for a long time and neither of them gave in. The cup of noodles appeared to be on its way to being smashed. But it was better to let it disintegrate than fall into the hands of the obstinate girl.

When she realized she was about to lose the battle for the cup of noodles, the girl loosened her grip a little. But he didn't see it coming; it was all her trick.

The heel of the strange girl's stiletto shoe stomped on Kunikuzushi’s foot. He crashed back against the noodle rack behind him, stunned and injured. The female then hurried over and seized the cup of noodles in his hand as she triumphantly laughed.

“Thanks for the cup. I’ll enjoy it to the very last bit.”

With that said, she turned swiftly away, causing two long dark ponytails to smack Kunikuzushi on the face, as if a slap. He was certain she did it on purpose.

Shocked, upset and outraged, Kunikuzushi couldn't help but stare as she walked out of the store. She'd better go out of sight. If they ever met again, he would undoubtedly seek revenge.

*

* *

Mona opened her bag, tucking the newly won cup of noodles inside. The dude at the convenience store was nerve-wracking. Who would go toe-to-toe with a lady when there were so many other noodles there? It seemed as though he couldn't live without this cup of noodles.  Of course, since she wanted to win in everything, Mona wouldn't let him be content at all.

Mona pulled out her phone to check. Throughout the night she studied at the observatory upon the mountains. There was nothing new other than a few messages from family and friends. Well, there's also a message from the game that she had been neglecting for weeks.

[Wanderer: Yo. Still breathing?]

Perhaps Mona had forgotten to tell this buddy that she was moving to a new place and would be unable to play games for a while until she settled in. She texted back quickly.

[Starseeker: Guess what? I just moved to a new place. Been busy so I have no time to get online yet. Miss me already?]

Mona grinned. It felt good to know she was cared about. She slipped her phone back into the bag, and looked up at the rapidly brightening sky. When her luggage was found and transported here, she would be able to quickly settle down. 

————————✧————————

#scaramona #wandermona #mona megistus #wanderer #scaramouche #genshin impact #fanfiction #fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact wanderer #genshin impact mona #wanderer x mona #scaramouche x mona #wandering stars

[bottombaron]

hi, yes, hello? cinematographer and director of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Episode 4? yes, I would like to know what you were thinking when you approved the set design, lighting, and blocking of this scene pls. its potential significance has haunted me for months. thanks.

#yes i know they're red white and blue stars #yes i see the star of david too #yes i see the white and yellow hexagon shapes #yes i see the yellow pointedly the only color in the fresco that ISN'T a star #yes i see the red star bathing zemo's face in a red light #yes i know zemo wouldn't be able to see out of the window which means he must be looking AT the stars in this contemplative moment #yes i know he mentions n*z*s in later in this very scene #yes i know this is his apartment and that bts has stated that every little thing in the apartment is apart of zemo's character #and they took into account things that illuminate him as a person as they designed the set #as all good set design should #but if you think i'm letting you get away with putting the star of david in his apartment #without me asking 10 thousand questions about the significance of that choice #(and by god there better be a reason if you just did it for the aesthetic i'm going to scream) #then you have another thing coming #zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #mcu #marvel #daniel brühl

[05aaphrodite]

I can't let you escape, not even to your own world

Pairings:Yandere! Venti x reader

Warnings:4th wall breaking,Slight crack fic,Reader death

(Plz don't let my friends see this lmao)

______________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐_______________

I chug all of my soda then slam it on the table "Aight, let's go farm for Venti's talent mats" I grabbed my controller then push the left joystick forward, after all of these grinding... I finally manage to get him on his rerun, I was skeptical that he would come home but surprisingly, I did a single pull then I got him, I'm grateful that I got my dream team, Xiao,Diluc,Venti,Bennett I will be saving for a Klee rerun.

My phone beeped a notification, I peek at it and it's my friend gc, I put down my controller then grab my phone

(A/n: Btw, the gc is based of my friend gc lol)

❀Genshin Gang❀

Diluc's hairtie

Y'ALL GUESS WHAT??

Albedo simp

OMGGGGGG CONGRATS BHIEEE

E_supremacy

CONGRATSSSSS

Xiao come home plz

I TOLD YA, YOU WILL GET HIM

Ventea

Hope all😭😭

VENTI CAME HOME

BROOOO CONGRATS OMG

ZHONGLI COME HOME

JK JK CONGRATS TOO

Diluc's hairtie

I was losing hope until I wished one more time😭

ZHONGLI COME HOME

CONGRATSSSS AGAIN, AND TO Y/N, BOTH OF YOU GOT VENTI

VENTI CAME HOME

THANKS PALL

E_supremacy 

Now my Zhongli is happy :D

Diluc's hairtie

YESSES

A smile plastered on my face, I'm so happy for them! My attention was stolen when Venti decides to say his idle line "Come on Traveler, let's go! The world is full of lost ballads just waiting to be rediscovered." I put my phone down then grab my controller again "Ok ok, I will pay attention to you now" I chuckled humorously "Good! Just don't make me murder your friends."

The moment he said that line, my thumb suddenly stopped pushing the joystick, did he just..... did I just heard that right? Murder... your friends? What does he mean by that? Someone never mentioned this voiceline of his, I should check the character icon. I clicked on the character icon then proceed to his voicelines, I checked every details but I can't seem to find it, maybe it's a bug? The fact that I was talking to my friends.... maybe Mihoyo intended it?

I shrugged my shoulders then continue to the domain to farm for talent materials. After countless of grinding, I started to have fun with his wind current while harassing random hilichurls for fun, I made him sat at the Barbatos statue "You finally came home..." I smiled as I touch the screen, Venti looked at the camera then smiled "That's so cute! He smiles when he looks at at camera!" I awed, I continue to fawn over him.

⌣ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ⌣⌣ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ‿ ⌣

I woke up by the sound of my ps4 opening, the bright light illuminated my body, and to my surprise, my ps4 opened by itself "What the fuck?" I stood up from the bed then went to investigate it. The creepiest thing is that Venti is the only one in my party, and he is sitting at barbatos' hands, and then I remembered the hacked accounts in genshin, this could be a sign..

I hurriedly grab my controller then check my characters, all of them were Venti! I can't find a single character other than him! What's going on!? I check my weapons but they are okay, I checked my profile and nothing changed but my icon was set to Venti, i checked my primogems and fate but nothing changed, in fear of getting hacked, I contacted Mihoyo for customer support, I can't lose Xiao, I whaled for him! I restarted my ps4 then go back to sleep, in hopes that it will be resolved next morning.

I rubbed my eyes then stretch my arms wide, I look at my ps4 then my phone, I grab my phone then text on the gc

❀Genshin Gang❀

VENTI CAME HOME

Guyssss, something weird happened yesterday 

ZHONGLI COME HOME

Why?

VENTI CAME HOME

My ps4 opened by itself and Venti was the only one in my party, I tried to change my party set back to normal but all of them were Venti

Albedo simp

Welp, sounds like a bug

But hey, freemogems :D

VENTI CAME HOME

My weapons and primogems were untouched but the weird thing is that my character icon is set to Venti, but I didn't change it

This is like a Ddlc reference lmaooo

Xiao come home plz

Aight, time to report to Mihoyo for free 600 primogems 

E_supremacy

Be careful, maybe you're getting hacked? You should change your password incase

VENTI CAME HOME

Yep bro, I will change it

I put my phone down then open my ps4, I prayed to myself that everything is back to normal. Happiness washed over me when I saw that my original party is deployed "must've been a crazy bug.." I chuckled, I change my icon back to Xiao then continue with the grinding "Ooohhh timmie's birds" I smirked, I switched to Xiao then climb the nearest cliff, I glide then plunge on the birds "Free fowls!!" I exclaimed then claim the fowls, my character suddenly switched  back to Venti, I didn't even press anything other than claim fowls "You know I'm getting impatient.." Venti said, again this was not even in his voice lines, then I notice that something is odd with my venti, he kept saying weird lines everytime my attention is drifted to somewhere else, could it be Mihoyo's doings? I hope so, I don't want a ddlc fiasco again.

After farming for his ascension materials, I quit genshin then read some fanfictions in Tumblr, I came across a Kaeya fanfic then proceed to read the contents. All of a sudden, my ps4's screen started to distort, my eyes widened at the sight of it, then a bright light surrounded me, making my head dizzy

.

.

.

. 

"Traveler, you're awake" I woke up to a familiar voice reaching my ears, I blinked my eyes slowly to realize that I'm not in my room, where am I? My jaw dropped when the person I saw in my eyes is none other Venti, this is impossible! He's not real! "Venti...?" I tilt my head in confusion, there's no way this is real.... this must be a dream! The bard showed a genuine smile before putting down his lyre "I'm happy that you pulled for me, I will go crazy if you pulled for him instead, hehe." Venti had a patronizing smile after that, my eyes widened as I sat up "Venti? There's no way that you're real!" I said, feeling my empty pockets, Venti sighed as he stood up, he had his lyre in his hand "Come on Traveler, let's go celebrate the windblume festival." the God reached out his hand, I was reluctant to respond to his offer, he seems a bit suspicious to me, considering my ps4 sucked me in Teyvat. Not to mention, he said these weird lines when I was communicating with my friends, and my controller would move on its own when I'm playing another character "What are you waiting for?" A smile was om his lips, I took his hand then stood up "Ok, let's go." Venti giggled as he led me in Mondstadt, I gaze behind to see the Vennessa tree.

No way.... all of this seemed real... the designs.... the npcs.... all of them are accurate! The only difference is that I don't see control menu "Isn't it beautiful? Traveler?" Venti turned to me, I nodded with hesitant. As my eyes scanned the whole city, Fischl and Bennett were talking to each other, Kaeya,Rosaria, and Diluc at the same table, although Diluc seems poker faced, Barbara was performing for the crowd, Jean and Lisa are eating together, Albedo,Sucrose, and Timaeus are experimenting,Amber is seen gliding, everything seemed lively more than the actual game.... "Come on Traveler!" The bard took my hand without giving me time to consent.

The rustling sounds of the leaves snap me back to reality, it still feels like a dream, did Mihoyo said something about this? The atmosphere is so lively and different "Uh oh woahhh!! Watch out!" Amber then crashed into Noelle, I giggled slightly then turn to the bard who was playing the lyre for a small crowd, as the sweet melodious tone halt to stop, the crowd clapped their hands, I smiled a little bit as I made my way towards him "Did you like it?" Venti inquired, I nodded then smiled, the bard chuckled as he took my hand then led me somewhere.

I realized we were getting far away from the festival, perturbation washed over me "Venti.... where are we going?" sweat dropped on my temples, Venti looked at me with a menacing smile "Somewhere..." 

He led me to starsnatch cliff, the breeze of the wind soothes my nostrils, I can't believe all of these are real.... Venti picked a Cecilia flower then hand it to me, I narrowed my eyes "Are you really.... real?" I gaze at his eyes 

"I'm aware that all of us are just video game characters, that's why I'm a God"

My eyes widened as he said that, he tucked the cecilia behind my ear "Y/n, will you stay here forever..?" The bard took both of my hands, his puppy eyes gleaming, I do want to visit Genshin.... but that does not mean I will abandon my world 

"Venti.... I have my friends and family there..." I said, I averted my gaze to the floor, his grip on me got tighter "Y/n, your world does not need you" his tone was a mix of devastate and anger "All you need is me, you belong here" 

My eyebrows furrowed, what does he mean by that!? "No! I can't just leave everyone! My friends care about me!"  I screamed in frustration. He then uses his anemo powers on me that sent me flying through the air "Arghh! Let me go!!" I desperately try to break free

"Don't you see that I love you? I don't like it when you control me everyday" Venti was feigning sadness on his tone 

"Because you're never real!" I retorted back, a grin was marked on his face "I ever regret pulling for you!" I yelled. The bard went closer then cup my cheeks "So? You already got me, you did this to yourself" then his hands swayed, causing me to fall of the cliff, my life flashed before me, this is it....

"May your soul rest in this game"

#genshin imagines #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #venti x reader #yandere venti x reader #genshin venti #yandere x reader #4th wall break #genshin impact venti #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #gi venti #venti #yandere fanfiction #genshin childe #windblume festival #invitation of windblume #genshin characters #mihoyo

[chemicalpink]

대취타 (DAECHWITA) | EMPEROR!YOONGI X READER | FINAL

Pairing: Emperor!Yoongi x Assassin!Reader

Words: 3.5k

Genre: Emperor AU, Historical AU (kinda), smut, angsty

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of historical public execution, oral sex (male receiving), lowkey breath play, unprotected sex

A/N: FINALLY IT’S HERE. I hope you enjoy, I had a hard time trying to make this not seem lame so here it is! please let me know what you think!

Summary: You used to be an assassin, got caught and works at the palace as a servant up until you are escorted to the main palace, either to meet your inevitable destiny or for a change of plans. 

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Forehead resting against your own as you found yourselves panting, him sliding out as your spasming cunt dripped with both of your releases onto the floor, placing one more soft kiss on your lips with his eyes closed “Marry me”

 You almost sat up with a start. Suddenly the world was bright and hazy. Yoongi had opened his eyes and they were digging like daggers into yours, an unusual look on him. You looked at the emperor apologetically before turning your gaze to the end of the room where there was a pile of books, silently detangling yourself from him.

The silence was deafening.

Then again, who in their right mind proposed marriage while having their cock buried deep inside some assassin turned royal slave. All the same, Min Yoongi wasn’t exactly known for having a right mind. But it wasn’t just the fact that he had proposed seemingly out of the blue, more than it was everything that came with it. The words seemed to tangle themselves inside your brain as you hear him say them over and over again. That he couldn’t think of himself marrying some woman that was inferior to him in mind and spirit. That he had wanted to marry to someone he loved. To think that Min Yoongi had proposed you marriage not in the heat of the moment but fully conscious of his actions would not only mean that he was in it for the great sexual escaped you two regularly went on, but because due to some fucked up mindset the royal had, he believed he could love you. 

Yoongi reached for your hand in an attempt to get your attention, face soft with post orgasmic bliss as he repeated the ill fated words “Marry me, Y/N”

You  snapped out of his hold. “Yoongi I don’t think you understand the situation”

“What is it then, please do enlighten me, Y/N cause from what I understand is me asking for your hand in marriage, twice now” he blinks a few times, looking at you expectantly, crossing his arms like a petulant child

“FUCKING READ THE ROOM MIN YOONGI ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND”

“Well I’m not, but you seem to be”

“I’m a fucking assassin, my hands? they will forever be tainted red” you look down at your hands and the blond man comes near to hold both of them inside his 

“Y/N I couldn’t care less about that, it’s not like I’m a saint either”

“You just don’t understand”

“Then help me out” somehow his ever consistent and aloof tone gave you more chills thana you could’ve imagined if he were to raise his voice at you “Y/N I’m serious with my proposal, the sex is amazing, but you’ve proven to be an excellent addition not only to my court, but to my life”

You are shaking, voice trembling and just above a mere whisper “I was the one that killed your mother on that freezing December night”

He freezes in place.

He seemed oddly composed for someone who had just been told the responsible of his mother's death was none other than the woman he thought he wanted to marry

You remember how a few years ago, he had gone on a killing rampage, exposing heads outside his palace as if they were homemade decorations, swearing to find the person responsible for his mother’s death and get revenge. It had been months of bloodbath. Some had considered the emperor’s son to have gone completely out of his mind. 

You storm off. Not before accepting the responsibility of your actions, perhaps Yoongi had also been a good addition to your life “I’m fine with you deciding to execute me for my crimes, I understand whatever sentence is best fitted for me, your majesty” for the first time since you had arrived at the palace, you don’t dare to look him in the ye, opting to follow court protocol and bow deeply before taking your leave, attempting to detangle yourself from your messed up robes and even more messed up string of thoughts.

The following days to that conversation were a blur and for the most part, uneventful, the emperor had opted not to gravitate your way unless strictly necessary, oddly enough, the air wasn’t awkward at all, it was as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you in the first place. Yoongi had retreated to being an aloof ruler, along with regular trips to meet his once very occupied and spoiled rotten concubines, all the while you were kept apart from. Sometimes, you would receive jobs outside the palace and were expected to fulfill them according to instructions. More times than not, you were left wondering if you would make it back to the palace or if it was one hell of an excuse to execute you.

Hearing approaching footsteps, you couldn’t help but hide the best that you could behind one of the hostel’s walls. Hooded and well muffled with the cape, as you did your best to camouflage yourself into the shadows and become a mere wisp of darkness. A maid from the hostel trudged to the open window and closed it, grumbling. Lightning illuminated the landing. You took a deep breath and reviewed the plans that you had so painstakingly memorized throughout the three days you had been guarding that building on the outskirts of the kingdom. Five doors on each side. The target’s bedroom was behind the third one on the left.

Stealthy as a specter, you walked down the landing. You pushed the target's bedroom door, which opened with an almost imperceptible squeak; waiting for another thunder to rumble to close it carefully. A second flash of lightning illuminated the two figures sleeping on the canopy bed. Young Hee must not have been over thirty-five. His son, small and beautiful, slept soundly in his arms.

“I’m not murdering a poor kid’s mother”

“So you’ve gone soft”

“No I haven’t gone soft” “What could a poor merchant woman have done to you for her to deserve such an end to her life”

He sits down on his throne “You didn’t even hesitate when killing my mother, though”

“Yoongi I-” he turns his head to you, a sharp gaze following your every move, as if he was a predator waiting for the precise moment his prey took a wrong turn to jump on them. You turn your gaze to the floor immediately “Your Majesty”

“Listen Y/N- I’m a very busy man, so I’ll make it easier for you” he stood up from where he was sitting, and although you weren’t looking directly at him, you could hear him move around the room until you were able to see him stop right in front of you, a hand you were so familiar with once caresses your cheek as he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him face to face “It’s either her life, or your life. Easy choice, Y/N”

You can feel your heart wanting to burst out of your ribcage at that exact moment, finally understanding the importance behind such a horrifying task, the mirroring in the situation. And the choice was as simple as it could get. “Kill me instead”

You could see the rage inside his eyes, even as he stood still for a few second, steady as ever, unfaltering as he called over one of the palace’s servants to get him the royal seal, the infamous red ink that decorated the skin of those in line to be executed by the royal himself, an utmost sign of rage, of personally wronging the monarch. A sense of longing crossed his gaze for half a second as he locked eyes with you before he took your wrist in his hand and stamped the cold ink on it; you couldn’t keep your body from reacting to the action, whether it was having him touching you again, the almost imperceptible stuttering of his movements when he did so, or the knowledge that you’d have to face an execution, making you shake lightly as adrenaline filled your veins. 

Preparations were something the emperor certainly didn’t scattered in, back when he became known as the cold hearted borderline psychopath he had a vaste fame of, ikt was mostly do to the whole antiques that surrounded his personal executions, the way that they seemed to mimic a kingdom’s festivity was almost breathtaking, were it not for the fact that the main entertainment of the day would be having you publicly executed.  You had been waiting for that night for a whole week. Sitting in the wooden corridor nestled to one side of the golden dome of Min Yoongi’s personal library, remembering how the last time you had been there, things were so different from how they were now, where the emperor had asked you to marry you in the worst way possible and you had confessed the greatest murder of the dynasty; you let yourself be carried away by the music that rose through the amphitheater. With your legs dangling under the railing, you leaned forward and rested your cheek on your crossed arms. One could almost swear the palace was preparing for a wedding, if the way you were constantly dressed up and down during the week, the way the palace’s servants were constantly bustling around the building to ensure the greatest quality for the evening, the greatest night for the kingdom. The execution of the Empress’ murderer. 

“You seem oddly calm for someone who's about to be executed” Jungkook mentions as he approaches where you were currently hanging out, a few minutes to spare before a small group of designated maids were to call you to get you ready for the night.

You look up at him tiredly, without separating your head from where it was laying, catching him taking a seat by your side in the most infantile way you had ever seen the royal guard do, shrugging to no one in particular, you add “You know, accountability and stuff”

“Oh and she grew a moral compass during her time here” if he was expecting a bickering comeback, the way you used to do back when he was designated to look after you, he was certainly not getting anything other than be met by an extended silence that seemed to rise the tension and seriousness of the whole interaction between the two “Why are you letting this happen to you?”

“What are you talking about” this time, you do turn to face him, confused as to where he was expecting the conversation to go.

“You didn’t kill his mother”

“I did”

He huffed out air, sounding a bit exasperated at your response; you could have even sworn you saw him roll his eyes faintly “No you didn’t, you were a mere 15 year old” there was a bit of laughter behind his sentence before he regained his composure and went back to his former self from a few minutes ago, looking at your face quizzically as if there was something hidden in there that held the answer to his question  “So why are you doing this”

You try and miserably fail to convey a nonchalant look on your face as memories of your time with the emperor fill your mind, not just the carnal ones, but those where you would watch him work for his place in the royal hierarchy, the soft sides around the rough edges that were publicly hidden on purpose, turning away from the guard you say softly “Yoongi’s a great man”

“Okay sure, he could do with a more...tame temperament, but what does that have anything to do with you chopping your own head off”

You try your best to ignore the way your heart seems to physically ache at the thought behind the answer; you almost don’t get enough strength from within to mutter “I’m hoping to get him some closure, be an even better ruler”

“That’s- definitely not how it’s supposed to work Y/N” Jungkook says incredulously 

 “I was technically part of the killing so, it’s all the same”

He huffs before going to stand up, dusting off his uniform and already facing away from you, before you can hear him call for you one last time “Yoongi’s in his room, you know, he was looking for you a few hours ago, in case that information helps in any way”

So perhaps you were naive for thinking that he would answer his door, he would have no reason to do so, especially given the circumstances, if it were you, opening the door to the person that had confessed of murdering your mother, and having them come up at your room, you wouldn’t even need to think it once to decide not to further interact with them, but Jungkook had said Yoongi had been looking for you before, so the chance of him wanting to see you alive one last time were there. Unless you were reading it all wrong. You turned your back on the huge wooden door you had come to know as the emperor’s bedroom a few months back, resigned, when you heard the creaking of a door opening and a calm steady voice.

“So you’re going to just knock on my door and run away the same way you entered my life and are now leaving it forever?” his frozen tone still having an effect on your body as you turned to face him properly for the first time in what seemed like an eternity “Came to discuss a bargain for your life?”

“Not at all” you lock eyes with him when approaching him, until you were practically inside the room, his judgemental gaze still on you “I wanted to say my goodbyes properly, your majesty”

“Then don’t waste my time and come in already, Y/N” 

The royal wasted no time in cornering you against the door, face so close to yours you could feel his breath on your skin, the tip of his nose nuzzling the side of your face and you knew him enough to know he had his eyes closed to keep his composure as he talked “I’m going to miss you like a fucking mad man” 

It felt like falling back into routine, the way he kissed you, down to your neck up to your collarbone, pushing past the robes that covered your skin, in preparation for the ritual, his hands roaming freely in a familiar way, grabbing all the right places as he draws little sounds from your throat, all while he worked the both of you to where his bed was placed, although he was giving your body and pleasure a decent amount of attention, you couldn’t brush off the fact that he irradiated an angry aura, words left unspoken as he got his anger out by pleasuring both of you. Maybe himself more than you, as he removes himself from caressing your body as he usually did and positioned himself above you, his member laying flat on your already expecting tongue,as soon as you realised what his intentions were when he started undressing himself, his hips thrusting a few times in an experimental manner, soon enough finding a  pace at the same time as you bobbed your head up to capture as much of his length as you could inside your mouth, your hands captured under Yoongi’s weight, unable to help you work him further, the way you’d done before. 

You feel him start to thrust further into your throat at one particular kitten lick of yours to the tip of his cock, your head starting to hang from the edge of the mattress you two were on as he picked up the pace, his cock filling you up all the way until it hit the back of your throat a few times, you trying to whine around him, only further encouraging him to take a handful of your hair and push you further against him, your gag reflex taking the best of you as he held you there, nose close to his navel, deep grunts ripped from his lips, the air leaving your lungs and becoming slightly light headed after a few seconds of you tapping his thigh in a motion to let him know to let you breathe, at which Yoongi locked eyes with you, a mix of anger and longing in his yes as he  thrusts a few more times as saliva started dripping from your mouth, tears decorating your pink stained cheeks before he removed himself from you, giving you a few seconds to gain air before he repositioned both of you. A deafening silence taking over both of you, as you were still catching your breath and he positioned his cock at your entrance, his tip, wet with your saliva, playing with your folds for a few seconds, as you take a sharp intake of air when he enters you and immediately sets a slow deep pace. You can feel his member filling you up perfectly, mind racing with flashbacks to all those other nights before where the emperor and you shared endless nights all over the palace. 

The knowledge that this would be the last time creeping up in the back of your mind. You feel an unfamiliar wetness hit your neck where Yoongi was kissing your skin, rolling down as you identified it as tears, as he was still passionately thrusting into you. 

“I don’t want to lose you” his voice barely above a whisper, trying to conceal the way his chest was tightened with sadness 

“You have to let me go, Yoongi” one of your hands comes up to caress his locks as he pushes up to stare at your face, anger long gone and replaced with utter sadness before one last thrust has him filling you up with his seed, warmth enveloping you, a soft whimper leaving your lips as his cock leaves your cunt, a briskly wind coming from the window causing your body to shiver for a second at the loss of body heat on top of you.

“I guess this was it then” his cold and unnerved facade was on again, making the cold shivers in your body that much worse as you watched him adjust his clothes and walk out of the room, leaving you to dress yourself and ultimately face your fated destiny at the end of the day.

The palace’s front plaza is filled to the brim with spectators as the news got out that the Emperor was finally getting revenge for his mother’s killing, people from the kingdom and even some people from neighbouring ones all lined up in the outer sides of the fire marks that decorated the space to illuminate the middle path where you were placed in the end of it to walk your way up, two unknown guards on each side of you as each grabbed your elbows to push you forward, the rope certainly leaving marks on your skin as it was wrapped tightly around your wrists.  

You could only catch a glimpse of Yoongi’s blond hair, wrapped in his infamous black and golden hanbok, drums roaring in unison, people screaming as you watched him take the sword from the swordsman that had prepared the ritual beforehand, as someone wrapped a cloth around your eyes and you were promptly pushed forward, legs buckling every few seconds as you came to realise what you were about to face, it hadn’t been clear before, mere seconds away, finally falling to your knees, head bowed down in resignation as you could barely hear the sharp sword cutting the air around you, gasps from the crowd filling the air along with the constant sound of the drums around you. You could only hope your death would bring much needed peace to the monarch and his kingdom. Your heart seemed to want to burst out of your chest, if anything, Yoongi was known for being an espectacular swordsman, which hopefully made the whole execution that much easier. You could hear cheers and a metal cutting the air before your body fell limp to the ground.

But your consciousness never left, the drums couldn’t be heard anymore, cheers were replaced with confusion as a pair of hands helped you up to your knees, fumbling with the cloth around your eyes to come face to face with Min Yoongi kneeling before you, a subtle smile on his face as one of his hands caressed your cheek before helping you up beside him.

“I’m sure you all must be confused right now” he announced to his subjects “This woman right here, has got more courage in her than anyone that has ever worked for me, any of us, for that matter. Which is why I’m asking once again, publicly, for the first time, for her hand in marriage” he turned to face you, as you were still dazed by the whole ordeal, his hand in yours being the only thing holding you down “Marry me, Y/N”

#kwritersworldnet #thebtswritersclub #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #networkbangtan #bangtanuniversity #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts imagines #min yoongi imagine #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi smut #bts fanfics #bts fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi scenario #bts scenarios

[pars-ley]

Bare yourself (part three)

Pairing: CEO Jimin x female reader

Summary: After a serious hack from your office building, fingers start being pointed but in which direction is the right one and where will that leave you and your boss, Jimin?

Genre: CEO au / smut / angst / series / workplace au / strangers to lovers au / boss/employee au

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Warnings: Phone sex / Masturbation m and f / Police interrogation / Explicit language / CEO Jimin

Word count: 3.5k

Beta: @erotikkook thank you!

Notes: Ok, so this took me a ridiculously long time to finish, life is manic but here's the next chapter. Thank you for being patient. Hope you all enjoy!

Taglist: @jungkooksbroski @unoriginal-username15432 @yoobikook @vonvi-blog @itsohhonney @kpopnoobsstuff @namyoongles @btsmosphere @autumnbear @ownthesunshine @btstista​

"Miss l/n, we know the hack came from inside the building. All I want to do is find out who's responsible. Which means I need your cooperation." Detective Kim Namjoon peers at you over the frames of his dark glasses. 

"And like I've said, you have my full cooperation. I cannot tell you anything more than I already have." You respond leaning forward on the table, desperate for him to believe you.

He slumps back in his seat and sighs. "Miss l/n, we can't keep doing this back and forth routine. I-"

"Sir, I love my job and I love this company," you interrupt. "I also think very highly of my boss, I. Would. Not. Do. This."

"How high?"

You freeze at his sudden change of questioning. "What?"

"How high?" He repeats. "Is something going on between you two?"

You straighten your back, looking at him through narrowed eyes, feeling the rock of a lie settle in your stomach and weigh you down. "Mr. Kim, I am a professional."

He puts both his hands up in surrender. "No offense intended ma'am. It's just that some of your other coworkers seem quite smitten with him."

You almost roll your eyes, knowing you were probably just as dreamy eyed as your co-workers but too proud to admit it.

"Oh, and they did mention the two of you cosying up at a recent work party."

You resist the urge to swallow as your heart pounds violently inside you, panic squeezing your pumping organ in a vice grip. You thought no one had noticed your exchange or your absence when you both left.  

"We were talking, yes. He offered me a promotion and wanted to discuss it."

He looks impressed. "Wow, what a good opportunity, he must trust you a lot."

"He did." 

"Until this?" He scrubs a hand over his smooth face and you nod.

"Um-hm. What would you say you could hack into?"

You frown, not understanding the question. "Sorry?"

"Could you hack just about anything?"

Thinking about it you shrug, "Most things I'd say."

"Even something as impenetrable as this program?"

You laugh. "Sir, I designed the security portion of this program, I wouldn't need to hack into it." You lean forward again. "Let me explain something to you, if I were to do something like this, I would have been in and out without anyone knowing. I would know how to cover my tracks without being detected."

You pause rubbing your temples, "If you ask me, this was done by someone with a limited knowledge of hacking and computers. Either that or this person is trying to frame someone in the company. They're your two options."

He smiles at you, two dimples forming an endearing crevice in his cheeks.

"They told me you were smart."

You rub your face ignoring his remark. "I have been here for hours. Am I free to go or are you going to charge me with something?"

"Just one more question. What were you doing last night?"

Your heart stutters before pounding guiltily against your ribcage, with every beat you're almost sure you can hear Jimin's name. Ji-min. Ji-min.

Folding your hands in your lap to disguise you pinching your wrist under the table, trying to do anything to keep your hectic mind calm as you know you have to lie.

"I was at home."

"Alone?" 

The smirk he gives you makes your stomach churn, as if he can see right through you and your lies, as if he can see everything that transpired last night flashing behind your eyes. 

"Yes." Your voice comes out raspy, a sudden dry patch in your throat makes you swallow involuntarily.

"Run me through your evening." He sinks lower into his seat, you're almost waiting for him to pull out a footstool and put his feet up.

"We set up the project, waited for it to go live-"

"Who's we?"

"My team, myself and Mr. Park."

He nods and gestures a hand for you to continue.

"Once it was live, we monitored it for a few hours, checked everything was in working order and most of my team went home for the night. It was pretty late by then."

He jots your account down on his laptop, the keys clicking furiously as you speak.

"What time is 'late'?"

"Around 10ish."

He raises his brows. "Is that a typical work day for you?"

You shake your head. "No, it was only because we wanted to make sure everything went ok with the go live, a few tweaks and adjustments had to be made, nothing major."

He nods, eyes focused on his screen. "Is that usual at the end of a project, tweaks and adjustments?" 

You shrug. "Sometimes yes, on big projects, sometimes you can't see certain errors until a go live."

"Ok, so it's 10 o'clock and your team have gone home, leaving you and Mr. Park. What happened next?"

You massage your temples. "We spoke in his office."

"About what?"

Your hand slams down on the table, an action you didn't intend. "Is that relevant?"

He looks up startled, then smiles. "Why? Have I touched a nerve?"

You resist the urge to lean across the table and pound your fist into his smug face and instead lean back in your seat with your arms folded, an attempt at shielding yourself. "We spoke about the project and the result. It seemed to be successful, at the time, so we had a celebratory night cap."

He shoves his laptop aside, leaning forward on his elbows, ears pricked and ready. "Let me get this straight. You and the - forgive me - handsome Mr. Park are alone in the building, in his office and having a night cap, late at night?"

"Yes." You reply bluntly, the arrogance of him, so sure he'll find your lie, flaming your veins with rage.

"Does Mr. Park regularly have his colleagues in his office for a night cap?"

"I wouldn't know sir, I'm not his secretary."

"Even if you were, she'd have gone home hours ago, according to you." He pauses watching you, his eyes so intense they feel smothering-suffocating. 

His stare eases, releasing you from its hold. "Ok continue, what happened after your night cap?" He relaxes and goes back to typing. 

You breathe a sigh of relief, air feeling light and free again.

"We talked, I finished my drink, then I went home."

"How did you get home?"

You pause. If you lie, they're bound to see the footage of you and Jimin leaving the building together, with you getting into his car. 

"Miss l/n? How did you get home?" 

Here he goes looking expectantly over the rim of his glasses again.

"Mr. Park gave me a ride home."

And there was that infuriating smirk again. "Is that so? Was his driver there or did Mr. Park do the driving?"

You feel the heat on the back of your neck as you're reminded of how Jimin's hands felt on your skin, hot and eager in the back of the car. "His driver took me."

"With Mr. Park."

You nod slowly. 

"And I suppose he just said goodnight and off you went?"

"You're correct, sir." 

"And Mr. Park will vouch for this story of yours?" He taps his bottom lip with the pen he just pulled out of his pocket.

You nod. "He will because it's the truth." You're both praying and hoping you'd have a chance to speak to Jimin before he got interviewed...if he hasn't been already. God, if they found out you were lying about this, it would make you look so guilty.

"Uh-huh. One other thing…"

Fighting the frustrated growl boiling up inside you, you give him a false smile.

"Do you have any idea why someone would want to hack this software?"

You mull it over briefly, "I would imagine, seeing as it's a security breach for information, that it's to steal. Most of our clients are..." you struggle to find the appropriate wording.

"Rich." He intejects.

You nod agreeing.

"Ummm." He adds watching you, before sitting up and closing his laptop abruptly. "Ok, miss l/n, you're free to go. But we'll be in touch, I assure you." 

He stands up and you quickly follow him out of the room. When he shows you the direction the exit is in he turns to face you and holds out a hand. 

"It's been a pleasure, miss l/n, I know you probably won't be able to say the same, nevertheless." He shakes your hand with a half smile causing the dimple to return, somehow completely softening his face.

You nod and leave as quickly as your tired body will let you.

The cool, night air hitting your face immediately calms your panicked mind. You need to speak to Jimin but it might not be safe to do so.

"Are you ok, y/n?" A deep voice sounds from beside you, silencing all your other chaotic thoughts.

You spin and see Taehyung leaning casually against the pillar of the building smoking.

You relax at the sight of a familiar face. Jimin's personal assistant has always been friendly and kind towards you. You weren't sure but rumours in your company suggested that the two of them were even brothers, although you doubted it as they didn't resemble each other in the slightest.

"Yeah, glad to be out of there though." You reply, massaging the back of your neck.

"I bet, you've been in there a long time. I saw you leave to go to the station with them hours ago."

You nod. "It's been a long and very trying day. Are you waiting to be interviewed?"

He nods, taking a long drag, you watch as the end illuminates orange. 

"Well, I hope they don't keep you in there too long."

"They shouldn't. I've been away, only got back last night. Don't see how much use I can be to them."

He flicks his cigarette into the road and closes the distance between you.

"Listen, if there's anything you need or if you just want to talk or rant, anything. Don't hesitate to give me a call." He hands you his card. "This is a tough situation for everyone, we all need someone every now and then."

His bright, boxy grin has your mouth upturning before you know it. You thank him and hail and cab. Glancing at him, you see him watching you as the car drives away, unsure as to whether he's flirting or you're reading too much into it and he's being his usual cheerful self.

You shrug it off. All you can think of is getting home, running a nice, hot bath and forgetting this day ever happened.

*****

Back to reality as you sit with your silk robe wrapped around you, your laptop positioned neatly on your thighs, going through every possible way someone could have hacked into this, looking for how they got in. 

But nothing made sense, this was definitely not a hack done by someone with limited knowledge as you originally thought. 

There was no trace of anything left behind, no mark that anyone had even been in. Which only means, the hack had to be someone with inside knowledge of the project already, it definitely wasn't an outside hacker.

A more alarming finding was discovering the computer used for the hack was actually yours.

But why make it so obvious where the hack took place and which computer...unless...someone is trying to frame you. This wasn't something you had realistically considered. 

If you were honest, no one was even jumping out at you as a suspect. You trusted everyone in your team and everyone who helped on this project.

You sigh, massaging your temples as you try to clear your mind.

A harsh knock on the door makes you jump and you glance at your phone. 

02.31.

Who on earth would be knocking at this hour?

You head over, opening the door slightly with the chain still pulled tight across, to see a man; hat pulled down covering his eyes, standing there handing you a small, brown package through the gap.

"It's from Jimin." He says quietly. You watch his mouth - the only part of his face you can see - stretch into a gummy smile, before turning and exiting the building. 

Bewildered, you close the door and rip open the box. Staring at its contents and searching for some kind of note explaining what on earth this is for. 

A phone. 

What are you supposed to do with it?

You take it out, examining it and noticing the mistletoe background. Just like the mistletoe you first kissed Jimin under.

You jump out of your skin, fear firing an ice bolt right through you as it lights up and starts ringing.

Hesitantly, you answer. "Hello?"

"Y/n," Jimin's breathy voice sounds in your ear and sends a scattering of goosebumps across your skin. "I'm sorry for the cloak and dagger but I'm unsure if I'm being watched."

"By the police?" You ask, worried at the urgency in his voice.

"Not just them. Listen," he starts before you can interject. "I want you to know that no matter how it seems or what I say in front of other people, I do believe that you had nothing to do with this hack."

The relief that floods you has your shoulders relaxing instantly, not even aware they were tense. "I am glad to hear you say that, thank you."

"I also want to apologise, I did not mean for your involvement with me to put you at risk of any trouble."

You frown, trying to make sense of his words. "I really don't see how the two are connected."

He sighs and the urge you have to comfort him, to wrap your arms around him until his stress is eased, almost has you putting on your shoes and coat. "It doesn't matter. Things are complicated with me and it wasn't fair for me to drag you into that."

"Hey, hey," you sit down on the edge of your bed. "You didn't drag me anywhere. I'm a big girl Jimin, I can make my own decisions, last night being one of them and I definitely do not have any regrets about that."

You're met with silence as you find yourself fiddling with the bedsheets, reminiscing his touch. 

"I most definitely do not regret it either." He finally says. You think you can hear a slight smile in his voice. "That was a moment I had wanted for longer than I care to admit."

His unexpected confession causes a furious blush to creep up your chest.

"I wish I could see you." The desperation in his voice makes you hot underneath your robe.

"Why don't you come over?" You ask, hesitantly biting your lower lip.

"I wish I could, lord knows I do, but I can't risk it, for your sake." 

You collapse back on the bed in frustration, his scent jumps up and captures you, pulling your mind into filthy places. "My bed sheets still smell like you." You say the words before thinking them through. 

"Do they?" His voice is suddenly husky and full of want. "And what is going through that impressive mind of yours?" 

"You are. Your touch, your taste, how I wish to feel your perfect lips on me again." Your hand makes its way down to open your robe, cool air hitting your skin and puckering your nipples.

"Hmm-mm, and what are you doing while you're thinking about me?" He asks.

"What do you want me to do, Jimin?" You accentuate his name, knowing how much he loves it when you say it.

"Touch yourself." He whispers.

You waste no time in obeying, as your fingers travel quickly down to your throbbing clitorous. The feel of your fingertips massaging your sweet bud makes you moan.

"Oh god, this makes me want to see you even more." He groans. 

You use the phone to snap a quick photo of your actions and send it to the number you're on the line too. "Incoming message, sir." You say teasingly.

"Oh, fuck," he says in the distance and instantly followed by the sound of his trouser zipper being undone. "You make me crazy." His voice is right back at your ear.

"Jimin, I wish it was my mouth around your rock hard cock." 

"Me too, angel. God, what I wouldn't give to feel you around me. Tell me, what would you want me to do to you?" He grunts, the sound of him pleasuring himself causes a gush of arousal to spill from your eager hole and you spread it over yourself.

"I'd want your mouth on me...everywhere, tasting just how wet I am for you." You pant.

"Just for me?" 

"Yes, all for you." You lightly trace circles over your swollen sweet spot, toes curling when he breathes your name down the phone.

"I want to be inside you, again." 

"Anytime, anywhere, just tell me." You whisper, that undeniable build up already at peak point. "I'm going to cum." 

"That's it angel, cum with me." 

You unravel, back arching off the bed and burying your face into the sheets, relishing his scent. You hear him orgasm, repeating your name continuously. It makes you smile inside and it makes you feel powerful knowing how much he wants you.

"I have to say," he says, after you both get your breath back. "That was not the reason for me sending the phone."

You can't help but laugh at that. "What was the reason?"

He sighs again. "Mostly, to apologise and to have a way to speak to you that I know is safe. We have to be careful, now."

"Why, what are you so worried about?"

A long pause. "I can't," you can almost hear his inner turmoil, the fight with himself. "I'm just trying to protect you. You don't need to be involved."

You're about to argue but something inside you stills. If you push someone like Jimin too much, he'll only clam up further, he'll open up when he's ready...you hope.

"Keep this phone on, ok?" He pleads.

"More late night phone sex?" You tease, chewing your lip.

"I wouldn't say no," he laughs. "I do, however, just want to be able to talk to you, if that's ok?" 

You nod and realise he can't see that. "Of course, anytime."

"I wouldn't say that, you'll never get me off the phone." 

You feel yourself smiling like a cheshire cat, feeling like a lovesick school girl again. What has this man reduced you to?

"Goodnight y/n. Sleep well, angel." He hangs up the phone, leaving your heart stuttering and your stomach flipping with excitement. The prospect of something new on the horizon, even with all the current problems you're facing, something still seeming positive might come out of this. All you can do is hope.

******

Getting ready for work the next morning you felt conflicted, part of you was on cloud nine, drifting blissfully along on nothing but hope and dreams. The other part was dreading the work day and what it could bring, plus you still had your own discreet investigating to do.

A harsh, yet cheerful rap on your door, startled you. 

Rushing to the door to see who it is, a small part clinging onto a chance it could be Jimin, only to be disappointed when you open the door and find detective Kim Namjoon staring back at you.

"Ah Miss l/n, I'm so glad I caught you before work, could I come in?" The same smug smile stretching his full lips as he leans casually against your door frame, his laptop hooked under his arm.

"Really? Right now, I'll be late for work." You reply, feeling a bit like a deer caught in headlights.

"That's ok, I've already informed your boss of your late arrival." He assures you cockily. "So, can I …?"

You grit your teeth and step out of the way, gesturing for him to enter. 

You watch as he studies every inch of your living area, peering into your bedroom.

"What is it I can help you with, detective?"

He turns to you, "Ah, yes of course." 

Setting his laptop down on your dining room table, hitting a few keys and spinning it round towards you. "You might want to sit down for this." He says, as he hits the play button.

You ignore him and watch. 

Video footage of your office building, of you walking to your office partition specifically. You watch yourself sit in the empty building, at your computer and leave again. You look up at the detective, confusion marring your brow and he simply taps the screen where the date and time stamp are.

You follow it, and re-read it at least three times, eyes open wider than ever, as if that'll somehow help you see different numbers.

The frown creases deeper into your forehead as your brain catches up with the fact that the video shows you, alone in the building, at the exact time and date of the hack. 

#bantanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #ficswithluv #bangtanuniversity #ksmutclub #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #park jimin #bts park jimin #BTS jimin #jimin #bts jimin fanfic #jimin fanfiction #park jimin fanfiction #bts jimin smut #jimin smut #park jimin smut #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan boys #bangtan fanfiction #bts smut #jimin ceo #bare yourself series #bare yourself jimin

[cali-holland]

Priceless- Tom Holland One Shot

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Prompt: You’ve never liked people spending money on you or being at large parties, but Tom seems to forget that as he goes a bit overboard when celebrating your birthday.

Word Count: 3100

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

*Gif is not mine*

A/N: I wrote this weeks ago and forgot to post it, my bad if it’s shit- it’s unedited; also I have no clue how much student loans are in the uk or if they even exist so i made it based off the us average and i’ll just stop rambling now oops

~~~

“Tom, this place is really nice.” You breathed out in awe of the dimly lit, but extravagant restaurant. While you felt almost embarrassed by your simple little black dress and non-designer shoes, your hands began to shake a little, thinking about how expensive this dinner must be.

“Anything for my special birthday girl.” Tom beamed, pulling out your chair for you to sit down.

“I wish you would’ve told me we were coming here. I would’ve dressed better.” You said quietly as you sat down in the chair, eyeing the women in fancy dresses at the tables surrounding you two.

“What are you talking about? You’re the best dressed person here.” He sat down across from you, adjusting his tux as he did so, and a sharply dressed waiter came up to the table, offering you two champagne immediately. Before you could kindly decline the offer, Tom insisted on the drinks.

“We’re celebrating tonight.” Tom stated, holding up his champagne flute out to you once the waiter had left. “To the best day of the year: happy birthday, Y/N.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, clinking your own glass against his before drinking the expensive liquid. 

Being with Tom for the past two years, you were used to the sweet date nights and the amazing birthday gifts; today was just different though. He’d never taken you to such an expensive restaurant before, not one that is so pricey that they don’t even bother to add prices on the menu (which upset you because you couldn’t even choose the cheapest option). You loved your boyfriend very much and you were appreciative of all the romantic dates he took you on and of the incredible gifts he’d give you, but sometimes it concerned you how he’d so willingly spend his money on you. He’d give you a million dollars if you asked for it, no matter what day it was. That is exactly why he didn’t know about your student loans or any of your past due bills- you were a staunch believer in making your way on your own, and that meant not using your boyfriend’s seemingly endless cash flow to help yourself out.

Tom knew you weren’t a fan of him spending money on you, and he also knew you weren’t one for big parties or celebrating your birthday. The diamond necklace that sat on your neck from your last birthday was proof enough of how Tom used your birthday especially as an excuse to give you more expensive things.

“You know I’m paying you back for this, right?” You said as you looked over the menu. Tom laughed, shaking his head.

“You’re not paying for your birthday dinner.” He replied, taking your free hand and holding it in his.

“I’d let you pay for the full meal if we were at McDonald’s, not at some 5-star restaurant.” You stated.

“I think it’s only 4-star.” He joked, but his smile dropped when he saw your frown. Tom lightly squeezed your hand in his. “Let me spoil you tonight, please? Just for tonight.”

“You’re unbelievable, Holland.” You rolled your eyes at him, but still cracked a smile, your thumb gently tracing against the back of his hand.

“I love you, Y/N, but I’m paying for tonight.”

“I love you, too.” You smiled, and he leaned over the table to kiss you.

After a rather delicious five-course meal, you and Tom got into the car, and he took off his suit jacket. While he removed his tie, you took the opportunity to look at the dinner receipt from his jacket pocket.

“Wait, stop!” He reached to take it out of your hands, but it was too late because you had already seen the receipt.

“£400? Are you crazy?” You exclaimed, blinking to make sure you’d read the receipt right- that wasn’t even including his very generous tip (which you weren’t going to complain about that bit).

“Was it not a good meal?” Tom questioned, taking the receipt back from you and putting in his pants pocket this time.

“It was the best food I’ve ever had. I just wish you wouldn’t spend so much on me.” As he pulled out of the parking lot, you took out your phone, pulling up Venmo.

“No, you’re not allowed to pay me back.”

“Well, I said you weren’t allowed to spend that much money on me.”

“It’s your birthday, please let me spoil you a little.” Stopped at a red light, he turned to you and pouted. You sighed, locking your phone.

“For your birthday, I’m taking you to a ridiculously expensive restaurant too.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before the light turned green and he had to start driving again. It took you a minute before you realized he was going in the wrong direction of your flat. “Where are we going?”

“I thought we could go for some drinks before going home.” Tom suggested, but something about his smile made you think it wasn’t a spontaneous thought.

“Yeah, why not?” You replied, not seeing the harm in just going with him. It’s not like you had a choice since he was already driving there anyway. You really just wanted to go home and have a nice night with him, but he was excited about whatever surprise he had planned for you and you weren’t going to ruin that for him- you already felt guilty enough about the dinner (although you did actually really enjoy it, all expenses aside).

“What are you up to?” You asked as he parked the car in front of a strange building. It was too dark for you to even try to guess what it was.

“Come on, love, you’ll see.” He smiled, getting out of the car and hurrying to open your door before you had the chance to. He held your hand, walking you up some sketchy looking stairs. It wasn’t until you got to the roof of the two story building that you really got confused. It was far too dark for you to decipher what was going on.

“Happy birthday!” A large crowd of people shouted, the lights kicking on to illuminate the roof. You smiled, speechless, seeing all the people cheering for your arrival. You weren’t even sure that you recognized a good amount of them.

“Happy birthday, darling.” Tom grinned, wrapping his arms around you. He gently kissed the top of your head, proud of his work.

“Wow, thank you.” You told him, sounding effortlessly enthusiastic about the party. Music started playing from the large speakers, and people started dancing along to the beat, getting back to their own conversations.

“Follow me.” Your boyfriend tugged on your hand, dragging you through the crowd to the far corner of the room, where a birthday cake was sitting in the middle of a large table. The cake itself was the size of a small table; in fact, you were sure it wouldn’t be able to fit on your own kitchen table. It was the most beautiful birthday cake you had ever seen for yourself. Covered in white frosting, it had your favorite flowers and lace all around it with “Happy Birthday, Y/N” written in your favorite color across the middle.

“Do you like it? I got it from the nicest bakery in town. My mum helped me with designing it, and I know we already had dessert at the restaurant, but you can’t have a birthday party without-” You cut off Tom’s nervous rambling by kissing him softly.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” You reassured him, giving him another kiss to calm his nerves and to calm yours as well. You already knew how expensive dinner was, and something told you this party and that cake definitely wasn’t on the inexpensive side of things. His heart was in the right place, but it was just too much for you. Needing another distraction, you spoke up again, “Drinks?”

“Right this way.” He led you over to the rooftop bar, ordering you both a couple cocktails. As the bartender worked on the drinks, Tom got a call and stepped out to the stairs for some privacy.

“If you’re the birthday girl, why are you looking so down?” The bartender asked you, a kind smile on her face.

“Is it wrong of me to say I’m not into big parties like this?” You replied with a small laugh, “I’m grateful for it, but it’s not my scene.”

“So I’ll make this extra strong for you.” She joked, but still had a heavy hand as she poured tequila into the mixture, “You know, you’ve got a pretty remarkable boyfriend there. I’ve worked here a long time and no one’s ever rented this whole place out.”

“I’m sorry?” You questioned, not sure what she meant.

“This is a rooftop bar. We don’t do individual birthday parties, but,” She trailed off whistling, “When someone offers up that much and they’re a celebrity, can’t exactly say no.”

She laughed and slid your finished cocktail over to you. You knew she meant nothing bad by her words, and yet you still felt your gut twist as you looked around the party at everyone socializing. It was a sweet gesture, yes, but did Tom really have to dent his wallet for it? With how much he was spending for today, you knew it had to have some effect on his wallet.

Just before you could take a sip from the cocktail, your phone dinged. You looked at it in confusion as a notification came through from your bank account app: “new transfer pending”. Your heart started to race, thinking someone was somehow scamming your money, but when you looked, you saw a ridiculous amount of money being transferred into your account with the memo: “happy birthday, darling”.

You shot up from your seat at the bar and marched off to find Tom. He was still at the stairs, having just gotten off the phone with a small smile on his face. He must not have processed the angry look on your face as he started, “Your birthday gift still isn’t here. I’m sorry, I really wanted it to arrive by today.”

There was a lace of sadness in his voice, clearly disappointed, but you couldn’t focus on that. Instead, you held up your phone, displaying the new transfer on your bank account. “What the hell is this?”

“That’s for your student loans.” Tom said, the happy smile returning to his face. “I don’t know how much you owe because you won’t tell me, so I just kind of guessed.”

“Tom, you can’t just give me 15,000 pounds!” You exclaimed in frustration.

“Is that not enough? I can-” He started, reaching to take out his phone again.

“No.” Tom paused at your harsh tone, “Stop giving me money. It’s suffocating me. The world already thinks I’m a golddigger just because I’m dating you and they know I can’t afford diamond necklaces.” You pointed to the shiny piece on your neck. “I know your heart’s in the right place, but I can’t keep feeling like this, like I’m your charity case first and your girlfriend second. I want to be with Tom Holland, the dorky boy from Kingston that I fell in love with, not Tom Holland, the celebrity that just flaunts his wealth every chance he gets. If you want to make me happy and make me feel special on my birthday, make me a cake yourself or something; I’d much rather have something priceless with sentimental value than have something expensive that you bought just because you could.”

It was Tom’s turn to be speechless now, completely taken aback by your words. You sighed lightly, stepping forward to give him a quick kiss.

“Thank you for tonight, but I think I’m just going to go home.” You left down the stairs quickly, calling for a cab as you did so, leaving Tom abandoned at your own birthday party as he tried to process how his genuine actions backfired so much.

You didn’t sleep well that night, too caught up in knowing you’ll have to talk to Tom about all this eventually. It wasn’t something that you wanted to break up with him over, unless it got too out of hand, like if another 15,000 pounds suddenly appeared in your bank account. As much as you needed the money and appreciated the thought, you couldn’t accept it. You loved Tom because he was so considerate and thoughtful, and you knew he was only doing this because of that loving personality of his.

It wasn’t until later that night that you started to grow worried about your relationship. Normally, if you two ever fought (which only really happened once and for some reason neither of you remembered now), it would take only a couple hours before one of you apologized, and it had been hours since you left Tom, hours since you last heard from him. You had texted him last night to let him know you got home alright, to which he replied later that he was also home, but there was no “we need to talk” text or call.

Just as you were about to go lose yourself in a pint of self-pitying ice cream, you heard a knock at the door. You were expecting Tom on the other side when you opened the door, but you weren’t expecting him to be holding a covered platter and a gift bag.

“Is it too late to celebrate your birthday properly?” Tom asked, hopefully. You smiled, stepping out of your apartment to give him a kiss.

“Come on in.” You replied softly. You opened the door further for him to step inside beside you. He placed the gift bag and the platter down on the coffee table in front of your couch.

“I’m sorry for last night. I overdid it. I just wanted you to feel special.” He said, sitting down on the couch and you sat down beside him.

“I don’t need a fancy dinner or a big party to make me feel special. You make me feel special whenever I’m with you.” You reassured him, and he picked up the platter, shakily handing it to you.

“I can’t promise it’ll be any good, but I tried.” Tom admitted sheepishly as you unwrapped the aluminum foil around the platter. You smiled in awe, looking at the two layer round chocolate cake on the glass platter, which you now recognized as Nikki’s. It was the exact opposite of the cake from last night- a messy frosting job with no flowers, lace, or letters. You could even see the cake sticking out from under the frosting when it was spread too thin.

“You- you baked me a cake?” You asked, looking over at him. You felt tears prick at your eyes and Tom let out a nervous laugh.

“You’re not supposed to cry. Does it look that bad?” There was a sense of worry in his voice, but he felt relieved as you leaned over to kiss him.

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” You set the cake aside to come back to it later.

“I didn’t make the frosting though. I tried, but it was too runny.” He stated, making you giggle.

“That’s when you add more powdered sugar.” You explained and he handed you the gift bag next. “Is this what was supposed to be here by yesterday?”

“Yes. It arrived this afternoon. There’s actually two things in there.” He replied,  a smile playing on his face while he wrapped an arm around your waist. You reached your hand into the bag and felt around. You didn’t need to fully unwrap the tissue paper to know it was a jewelry box, your eyes subconsciously widened at the feeling.

“It’s not what you think it is.” Tom laughed, knowing you’d think it was a ring.

“Not like we don’t know my answer to that.” You teased as you took out the gift. You opened the small black box to see a thin silver necklace of your birthstone resting against the velvet backdrop.

“Now, if you don’t want it because of last night, I- I can take it back.” He offered, scratching the back of his neck. “I know you don’t want me spending excessively, but I saw this weeks ago-”

“Tom, I love it.” You gently took it out of the box, handing it to him so that he could put it on you.

“Okay, so the last one,” He started nervously, before rambling, “I’ve been working on it for a couple weeks, I just needed the one last thing to actually finish it though, so I couldn’t really do it until today. I can always fix it if it doesn’t look right. And, yeah, just open it.”

“Well, now, I’m intrigued.” You laughed, slowly pulling the last gift from the bag. Tom tensed beside you, but you were far too overwhelmed, holding back tears, as you looked over the blue photo album. You turned through the pages, taking in each photograph he had put in it, reading each comment he’d written under it. It was like a story of your relationship over the years, and there was still plenty of room left in the back of the book for the future.

“See, the book was late, and that kind of set me back. I didn’t mean to ignore you today, but between the book and the cake, I was preoccupied.” He laughed lightly.

“You’re by far the best boyfriend ever. I love you so much.” You turned to him, letting a few tears escape. He wiped them away, cupping your cheek and kissing you.

“Happy belated birthday, darling.” He told you softly once he’d pulled away. You quickly got up to grab a couple forks from your kitchen before sitting on his lap on the couch. You balanced the photo album in your lap, so you could continue to go through it, while Tom held the cake platter.

“Let’s see how good this cake is.” You teased, clinking your forkful of chocolate cake against his. Tom watched as you ate your forkful first. The sweet chocolatey taste you were expecting wasn’t there; instead it tasted bitter and almost like bananas. You swallowed it and smiled, trying to play it off, but Tom could tell.

“It’s shit, isn’t it?” He asked, putting a forkful in his mouth before you could respond. He groaned at the horrible taste.

“Did you store it next to bananas?” You laughed.

“Only for like a hour!” He defended.

“I think you put too much baking powder in here. It shouldn’t be that bitter.”

Tom sighed, setting the platter down on the table. You smiled at him, still laughing a little at the cake, “You tried, and I love you for that.”

“I love you too.”

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex​ @theamazingtomholland​  @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart​ @joyleenl​ @t-o-m-holland​ @lonikje​ @sleepybesson​ @sunkisseddreamer​ @hollandsamor​

Tom Tag List:@quaksonhehe​ @tomkindholland

#tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic

[vfdarkness]

AVFD Script - S2EP03 The Forgotten Man

[[Intro]]

You’re at a bus stop and your bus is late.

Finally, it pulls up, you step aboard, and for a brief moment… 

the driver’s facial features - their eyes, nose, mouth are in all the wrong places. 

As you stare, their face quickly rearranges itself to appear more normal. More human.

The door closes. There’s no one else in the vehicle.

You need my help.

[[AVFD intro music kicks in]]

This is A Voice From Darkness.

[[AVFD intro music fades out]]

Hello, this is Dr. Malcolm Ryder, parapsychologist, here to help you with all problems paranormal, supernatural, and otherworldly. And we have a wonderful show planned for tonight. There’s two national alerts for the state of Florida - one for the panhandle, and another for the everglades. After we go over these we’ll explore one of the strangest roadside attractions in American history. And of course we’ll finish our show with the phone lines open so you, our listeners, can call-in. But first, let's get to our national alerts

[[National Alerts music starts]]

A sinkhole has appeared in the middle of Kelson Ave in Marianna, Florida. The hole’s depth is currently unknown however twenty feet down, stone carvings of faces appear. The carvings continue for as far down as anyone can tell. Each is unique yet is made to grotesquely express either the emotion of fear or that of delight. A spelunker descended into the hole to gather information about its depth. Two hours into his descent contact was lost and he was pulled out. When he resurfaced he was said to be in a daze. He removed his harness and immediately jumped back into the hole. Please be careful while driving on Kelson, Ave in Marianna, Florida. 

Our second national alert is for the Florida Everglades. The Singing has returned to the wetlands. All those in the area are advised to wear hearing protection for at least the next 72 hours or until otherwise instructed. The source of The Singing is unknown but is said to compel all who hear it to walk into the wetlands and be devoured by the creatures there-in. Again, please wear hearing protection if you’re within earshot of the Florida Everglades.

And that’s all we have for national alerts this evening. 

[[NA music fades out]]

Next up we have Today In Odd America, where we’ll discuss a manifestation that once haunted every corner of this land. And afterwards we’ll open the phone-lines.

[[Today In Odd America]]

Today in Odd America we find ourselves across the highways of our country. Forty four years ago today marks the last known visit to a roadside attraction commonly called The House of Narcissus. No physical evidence of this place exists. It was never found in the same location twice - yet hundreds of oral testimonies swear to its existence. Tonight I will cobble together disparate accounts from those who claim to have toured the fabled roadside museum. My hope is this will paint you a picture of what the experience was like for those who wound up touring a space dedicated completely to themselves. 

“I was driving down Route 8,” Maise Bridges stated to the Columbus Dispatch in 1955. “It was late and dark. No other cars were on the road. Then I saw it - a billboard illuminated by a single dim light that read: Know Thyself, Next Exit. No other words. But next to them, taking up the entirety of the right side was a painted picture - of me. Unmistakably me. Done in a sort of… Norman Rockwell style I suppose. I just… What was I supposed to do? Of course I took the next exit.” 

All descriptions of The House of Narcissus begin this way. A strange billboard on a lonely road, mere seconds to decide to take the exit or not. Oddly, there are few confirmed cases of those who saw the billboard and kept driving. It’s impossible to say if that says something overall about human nature or merely the people The House chose to manifest for.

“I was overwhelmed when I first drove up to the house,” Curtis Johnson said to the Louisville Times in 1948. “I’m not ashamed to admit it, but I might have cried a bit. I mean the place was just, just magnificent. Out there, in the middle of this grassy field, in the middle of nowhere there’s this small piece of heaven, you know? I didn’t feel like I was about to tour some cheap-o roadside scam where they show you a mannequin in a five dollar gorilla suit and tell you it’s Bigfoot. I felt like I was home. Of course I rushed right outta my car up to the door. Why wouldn’t I? I was home.”

Descriptions of the museum are typically left vague. Abstract. At least when describing the exterior. Visitors will speak of the joy they felt upon seeing the house. Often they’ll say a sense of nostalgia or homecoming overwhelmed them. However no one was ever able to give a single concrete detail of what The House looked like. How many stories were there? What color was the siding? What the house looks like remains a mystery to this day. But there’s much agreement about its interior. At least in some respects.

“There’re no employees, no turnstyle to go through, nothing like a museum or roadside attraction typically has. You just go in the front door, and you’re suddenly there - in the first room. It’s filled with photographs along the walls. They were all of my family, friends, neighbors, teachers, former classmates, folks from my church, employers, co-workers. People I might have talked to only once in passing. None of these were photos I took or remember anyone else ever taking. None are in any photo album I own,” said Judge Michael Harvester in 1972, when he called into the KIRT radio station of Olympia, Washington. 

The Photo Gallery is always the first room visitors find themselves in. Under each photo is a brass plaque, on which a single sentence is etched: the last words said by whomever is touring the house to the person featured in the photograph.

Even this first room can be disarming to a visitor. As Judge Harvester said: “You don’t realize how many people you speak to, thinking you’ll do so again, but then never do. It adds up over a life. It really does. I didn’t look at all the pictures, or read all the plaques. I had to stop after awhile. I saw one in particular… the last words I said to an old neighbor of mine, lived a few houses away from the place I bought right after law school. Me, him, and some of the guys down the block would get together to play poker twice a month. Last thing I said to him, ‘I’ll see you in a few weeks.’ I don’t remember what happened after that. I guess the poker game fell apart. I don’t think either of us moved, I don’t remember us getting into any fights. But I never spoke to him again. And that’s just one example. People like to call that first room the photo gallery, and that makes sense, I guess. But that’s not what it is. It’s a monument. A monument to lost relationships.”

Most visitors to The House expressed regret coming there at all after visiting this first room. Unfortunately, the way they entered disappears after entry - replaced by a wall filled with photographs. Once you enter, The House forces you to continue through the rooms. That is, if you wish to leave.

“The second room was a full scale replica of my childhood home,” said Sara Lopez to the San Diego Tribune in 1966. “All five rooms of our house back on Balboa Avenue. “I went through the cabinets in the kitchen. The dishes… they were identical to ones we had. There were these little hand drawn designs on them. They’re abstract, hard to describe, but the plates in that museum. They matched perfectly how I remembered them. It was impossible.” Most statements regarding the second room share similar amazement at the level of detail on even the most insignificant items - stains on the carpet, entryways scuffed and dirty from children’s shoes. “What really got me about the second room, “Sara Lopez said, “were the smells. The kitchen had this overwhelming odor of garlic and cumin, spices my mother put in everything. The carpet near the entryway smelled like wet dog. Our lab, Daisy, would run through our neighbors sprinkler then come inside, right to that patch of carpet, and roll around. Little things like that, I’d forgotten about completely. Hadn’t thought of in years, but suddenly a million memories came rushing back to me.”

The average visitor reported spending somewhere between four to five hours in The House of Narcissus. There were outliers of course, in both directions. Some, after seeing the photo gallery, ran through the other rooms without lingering. Others claimed to have spent days and only left when they were near dehydration.

There are dozens of other rooms in The House. Too many to go over tonight. But I’ll end by stating what’s in the only obligatory room, the last room. The room with the only way out.

At the very end of a long hallway is a plain wooden door with a small sign above that reads: What if…

Inside is a small movie theatre. There’s a single red cushioned seat in the room with the perfect view of a small screen. To the right of the screen is a door with an exit sign above. The door will not open unless the visitor sits down in the chair and watches, truly watches and listens, to the film that plays in that small theatre.

“On the day of what was supposed to be my wedding I called my best friend - my bridesmaid. I cried and I gave her the awful job of telling my husband-to-be I’d changed my mind,” said Tonya Blanton to the Sante Fe Dispatch in 1958. “I was living in Minneapolis at the time. Born there, was to be married there, figured I’d die there eventually too. I don’t know what overcame me. But I got in my car and drove. Found myself in New Mexico and started a new life. My parents were furious. And I never spoke to the man who was to be my husband ever again. He sent me a letter when I’d settled in Santa Fe. I wasn’t brave enough to open it. But in that last room. In that last room of that awful house - a film played. It showed what my life would have been had I stayed in Minneapolis. I won’t… I won’t say what all I saw. What all I missed out on. All I’ll say is I know I made the wrong choice. I’ve thought about that every single day since visiting that terrible place.”

Tonya Blanton is not a unique case. Chicago journalist Studs Terkel in his book The American Road: An Oral History devoted a chapter to The House of Narcissus. He conducted over twenty interviews with those who'd toured the roadside wonder. When asked if they could change places and live the life they saw in that last room - would they? Every person he interviewed said they would.

The House of Narcissus only existed for some sixty odd years. The last known visit occurred in 1977, outside of Spring Green, Wisconsin. “People say I must’ve burned the place down or something,” Buddy Palmer, the last recognized visitor, said to the Madison Gazette in 1980. “I didn’t, I swear,” he went on, “but if I had some matches and kerosene on me, would I of? Sure thing. No one should ever be forced to watch the movie that plays in that last room. I’ll think of that picture the rest of my life. I’ll know I messed up early on and I’m not living my best, happiest life. You know how hard it is to get out of the bed in the morning with that hanging over you? Sometimes that movie plays in my dreams. I usually gotta call in sick to work the next day when it does. I just can’t stop thinking about it. The rest of the place too… it’s just... Just too much.”

For those of you listening to this while driving alone, rest assured, you’re unlikely to see a billboard with your own face staring back at you and the words: Know Thyself, Next Exit. But in the rare chance such an event occurs, please consider my advice: don’t take that exit. Just keep driving. There are some truths about ourselves perhaps better left unexplored.

And now back to our main show.

[[TIOA music fades out]]

​​ACT II

RYDER

And we're back and we already have a caller on the line. Why don't you tell us your name and the nature of your supernatural problem.

RENE

Hello, Malcolm. I was wondering if we'd ever get the chance to speak again.

RYDER

(uncertain)

I don't recognize your voice. Have you called into the show before?

RENE

A few times, yes. And we met once or twice in person.

A beat.

RYDER

Who is this?

RENE

My name is Rene Dupont. And though I've explained this to you before, I will kindly do so again. I exist with a peculiar condition. People can rarely retain memories of me. Not in any form. As this conversation gets to a certain point, I'll begin to vanish from your mind as well as most of your listeners. If you try to write down anything about me during this call, you'll likely only produce gibberish or the vaguest of details.

RYDER

I've read case studies of similar situations. There was a man in Utah-

RENE

(interrupts)

Yes, yes.

Nathaniel Cotwell who lived in a small town that couldn't create new memories of him past the age of eight. And so as an adult they'd still treat him as if he were a young boy. You studied him and Sarah Pullman of Butte, Montana who went missing one night in the woods. When she found her way home again, her family had completely forgotten her.

A beat.

RENE

The few times we've spoken, you've wished to demonstrate knowledge of people who've existed with Memory-related ailments and those are your two most common examples.

RYDER

It seems we have spoken before. Mr. Dupont-

RENE

Please, call me Rene. No need for formalities. We're old acquaintances after all.

RYDER

Yes. Of course. And why have you called into the show tonight, Rene?

RENE

There's been a man following me. Repeatedly.

A beat.

RYDER

(realizing what he means)

And of course that's a difficult task to accomplish, as it's so hard to remember you.

RENE

You're correct. I am Anonymity Incarnate. But there's a man in a grey suit who seems to have found my scent. A further detail about him: he's missing one of his fingers. I'll let you guess which.

RYDER

Why is The Traveling Salesman after you?

RENE

I called you in search of an answer to that very question.

RYDER

In all likelihood he wishes to strike a deal with you. That's why he seeks anyone out. That, or to kill them.

RENE

Let's assume the former for the moment: what sort of deal would he want to make with me?

RYDER

I have no idea. Perhaps he needs information from someone. But he doesn't want this person to know they've given their secrets up. I imagine with your talent that's something you'd be good at.

RENE

Before the wall was destroyed in '89 I was employed on both sides doing something akin to what you just suggested.

A beat.

RYDER

Then that might be what he wants. Or perhaps something more... metaphysical.

RENE

Such as?

RYDER

Your ability to be forgotten. Julian already has some power over memory, but not that.

RENE

Could he really take that from me?

RYDER

Not take. Trade. The Salesman doesn't steal, Rene, but his deals are often one-sided, exploitive, as he'll neglect to tell you pertent information before you agree.

RENE

So he wouldn't really be taking something from me so much as he'd be giving me the gift of being able to be remembered.

A beat.

RYDER

That's a dangerous way of viewing such a deal.

RENE

Dangerous for you, perhaps, but of great advantage to me.

RYDER

It would be dangerous for the whole country for The Traveling Salesman to be easily forgotten. One of the few weapons we have against him are the memories of devastation he's brought about by the deals he's made. The only reason anyone ever turns him down is because his reputation precedes him. Take that away-

RENE

(interrupts)

I have the means and resources to go to many other countries. Julian Holloway can have this one.

RYDER

You'd potentially sacrifice hundreds of millions of people to-

RENE

(interrupts)

To be remembered. And yes, I would. This "talent" of mine came to me when I was young. For most my life I've been unable to have a meaningful relationship with another human being.

To even have an extended conversation. What's my name?

RYDER

Rene...

Malcolm searches his mind for the surname.

RYDER

Rene Dupont.

RENE

You're close to forgetting already, Malcolm Ryder.

A beat.

RENE

If I made a deal with your friend for him to take this power away, you'd never even know.

RYDER

The Traveling Salesman is not my friend.

RENE

If your former friend might help me where no one else could before, including yourself, then I would take him up on his offer.

RYDER

That is if he even wants to help you. He could be searching for you, as I already said, to kill you.

RENE

And why would that be his objective?

RYDER

There are limitations to his power. I don't fully know what they are, but I know they exist.

RENE

Again I ask, why would this necessitate him wanting me dead?

RYDER

Because you possess power in one of his realms - Memory and Dream. And if you have more power than he does, and if he can't use you, or your power, towards his own ends, he'll want you dead. You're a liability otherwise.

A beat.

RENE

You're bluffing. Trying to stoke fear in me so I stay away from him. So I can't make a deal. If what you said was true, your friend Charlotte Price would be dead.

RYDER

Charlotte has found ways to take care of herself. She's forged alliances with things even Julian fears. Have you done the same?

A beat.

RENE

What you're telling me is that I need leverage before I allow Julian Holloway to try and offer a deal to me.

RYDER

That's not what I'm saying at all. Under no circumstances should you attempt to make any deal with him.

RENE

That's not what I took away from this conversation. Thank you so much, Malcolm. As always, you've been helpful.

RYDER

No, wait-

Dial tone.

A long pause.

RYDER

There was someone on the line just now. I swear there was.

I have notes I made, most are illegible which isn't like me. Of what I can read: Shadow, Mirror, Flesh, Spirit, and Dream. I tried to write Memory but it seems my hand was unable to. Odd...

A beat.

RYDER

I think we'll end the show there tonight. I'd like to play back the recording of the past several minutes. See if I can see what I'm missing.

A beat.

RYDER

But if you're experiencing anything supernatural, paranormal, or otherworldly, please feel free to call in next time on A Voice From Darkness.

[[AVFD outro music fades in and out.]]

#a voice from darkness #avfd #malcolm ryder #rene dupont

[jeongyunhoed]

A year after the events of Past-Present-Future, Lee Mirae, Choi San, and Jeong Yunho receive a mysterious envelope containing photos and notes about the deaths of several individuals. The deeper they go into the case, they find that the entertainment industry hides a very dark secret.

Group: ATEEZ Pairing: Yunho/OC Genres: It’s a little bit of: adventure, romance, mystery, crime, fantasy, action. Things to note: It also features mentions of other idols/artists: Junhong (Zelo), Dean, Chanyeol, etc. Superpowers AU if it wasn’t obvious as well. Featuring Enhypen. 

T/W: Themes of death, violence, demons, cults, blood, use of weapons and/or firearms, use of drugs (both recreational and medical), implied/referenced assault, implied/referenced suicide

A/N: The main conflict is a reimagining of an actual long-running theory. This is also a remaking of a previous fic I wrote before on Ao3 that will now be under the new super powers au. (if you know, you know). This work is pure fiction and does not bear a direct reflection of the idols in the story. Please let me know if you would like to be included in the tag list.

A/A/N: Introducing Enhypen. hehet! Also, this hasn’t been edited as much. Shoutout to people I’ve been talking to about this, or at least bits of this. haha. Enjoy.

Masterlist

Two

San and Hongjoong stood across the street from the large boutique, the word Montague on display above in gold set against a black background with a gold border. It looked similar to the displays on toy stores overseas, mannequins holding handbags that San knew probably cost millions. He made sure to dress appropriately in the hopes of passing off as a model, as Mirae figured they would likely only entertain those who worked in fashion. Hongjoong was conveniently dressed like a designer, but an armed one. “So, this is where we’re supposed to go, huh?” Hongjoong asked. 

“Mhmm. We have to pretend like we work in fashion, people that work in that kind of place can be very snooty. We need to move like we can afford everything in there,” San explained, in the hopes of assuring himself. 

“Well, let’s get to it, we need to be back by dinner, at least Mirae says so,” Hongjoong nodded. 

They crossed the street, San gripping the handle of the door and pulling it open. The interior of the boutique was, as expected, just as fancy-looking as the outside. A black crystal chandelier hung over their heads with the mirrored tile ceilings. The racks of clothing and shelves to display shoes were in a matte black. The mannequins in the middle of the room looked like they were made out of silver and gold. “Wow,” San looked almost in awe of the place. 

“Those suits probably cost an arm and a leg,” Hongjoong muttered as they looked around. 

“Hello, how may I help you gentlemen?” 

They turned around. Behind them was a man dressed all in black, his hair slicked back. “We’re looking for your manager, I’m Kim Hongjoong of Hong Atelier and I’d like to discuss a possible collaboration with your founder, or designer,” He blurted out. 

“Oh, you’re looking for Madame Seo,” The man replied. San sensed that there was something off about the way he said her name. “Will you follow me, she’s in her office,” He walked off further down the boutique and up a staircase illuminated with small spotlights above their heads against matte black walls. 

“Rather dark in here, isn’t it?” San quipped as they were led down a hall with leopard-print floors. 

“Madame Seo prefers it that way. The daylight doesn’t do much for the fabrics, at least that’s what she says,” The man replied, having heard him. He stopped in front of a red door and opened it. “You can wait here while I inform Madame Seo. Make yourselves comfortable, she’ll be with you in a moment.”

Hongjoong and San stepped inside the leopard print themed room, looking even more puzzled at the change of motif in this part of the store. “Quick of you to say something to that guy,” San sat down on the couch, eyes still scanning the room in the hopes of finding anything out of the ordinary. 

“It comes with what I used to do,” Hongjoong shrugged, moving around the room to look around. “I see Mirae’s been doing very well,” He muttered. 

“She is, she has been for a while now,” San reached for the remote on the side table to turn the television on. “You miss her?” 

“I don’t know, but it feels weird to be meeting again outside the padded walls of the sanitarium I came from,” Hongjoong felt the walls, the leopard-printed wallpaper under his fingertips. 

The program on the television went black and the sound of the program going static filled the room. San stood up, dropping the remote control. The screen began to show surveillance images of the two of them, before it changed to what looked like an information screen. “They know who we are,” His expression dropped. Hongjoong froze in his place. 

The screen went to black again, before more static came on. “I’m good with faces, you have been warned. Don’t snoop around where you’re not supposed to,” said the words that were appearing on the screen. 

“Time to go,” San and Hongjoong raced for the door, the former already reaching into his coat for his harpoon gun. As they opened it, they saw the employee, pointing a gun at them. 

“We ran your faces, we know who you are,” The man said, gesturing for them to move back into the room. “There’s no Hong Atelier, but there is that sanitarium, right?” He turned to Hongjoong. “As for you? Offshore accounts here and there, taking jobs for lowlife gangs and jealous wives, and you were involved in the Kang mob, both of you are,” He glanced at San. “So, tell us why you’re here.” 

“You must be that full of yourself to also refer to yourself in third person,” San said through gritted teeth. 

“Oh I’m not alone, I’m never alone,” There was a coldness in the employee’s voice. “At least both of you have each other when you die, Madame Seo isn’t fond of people lying.” 

“Lying? That’s rich coming from someone who only has this as a front,” Hongjoong spoke this time. 

The employee chuckled. “Oh, believing in that drivel those conspiracy theorists cooked up, are we?” 

“She hasn’t denied those and we’re here to find that out.”

San could feel the frustration coming over him. Hongjoong, however, remained calm. “If you’re going to keep that gun pointed at us, you may as well pull the trigger, we know too much now,” He said. 

“Good idea,” and just before the employee pulled the trigger, he fell to the floor, blood seeping out from his mouth and from his stomach. The blade that came out from Hongjoong’s sleeve was now dripping with blood. 

“There’s going to be more of them, probably,” San peeked outside, the two of them stepping over the body. The other doors along the hall remained closed. 

They looked back at the room they were coming from one more time, seeing if there was anything else they missed, until they saw something glinting on the floor. A puddle appeared to be forming from the employee Hongjoong stabbed. It was a puddle of black liquid. “What the- Is this grease?” Hongjoong bent down to look at the puddle closely. “Where’s the test tubes? Did you bring some?” 

“Oh yeah, I have one here,” San took out one test tube from his coat pocket and bent down to scoop some of the liquid. “I have a feeling we won’t be let out,” He looked up at the empty hall. 

They rushed down the hall and sprinted down the stairs, suddenly hearing screeches and cocked guns coming from behind them. San and Hongjoong skidded to a halt when a few more employees appeared at the landing of the staircase and into the main boutique. All of them were holding weapons. San quickly brandished his harpoon, eyes suddenly glowing as he kicked and punched several out of the way while Hongjoong sliced through the employees behind them with the blades in his sleeves. “This would be easier with my rapier,” He muttered, snapping the necks of some but his eyes widened when he saw how red their eyes were. It was as if they were glowing. 

Splatters of black liquid hit their faces and staining their clothes as they fought their way through the boutique. Hongjoong pushed the mannequins over in an attempt to block the rest from attacking them while San did the same with the clothes racks in the middle of the store. From under the racks and the mannequins was a compartment that they saw had small packets of what looked like light gold powder. San snatched a few while Hongjoong hopped over to the front desk, grabbing whatever files he could get his hands on. “So much for taking the direct approach,” He fired his harpoon through a few, the blades as his eyes glowed, stunning each one of them. 

The two of them returned to the fray, fighting their way through the store and disarming the employees who were still standing, using their weapons against them. Hongjoong nearly dodged one and as one was about to open fire at them, the next thing he realized was that they were both outside the store, the two of them on the sidewalk, with the doors slamming shut. “...What just happened?” San spoke, stunned at how they ended up on the sidewalk, getting back up on their feet. He looked down, feeling a kind of nausea sink in. 

“I-I don’t know,” Hongjoong was just as stunned as he got up, sliding the blades back in place in his sleeves. He looked down at his hands, noticing some unusual glow, that soon spread up to his arms and all over his body. San stared at him, seeing the unusual static glow. “...What’s happening to me?” 

“I don’t know either, but maybe this was what Junhong hyung meant when he said you may or may not have powers, let’s go!” The two of them ran across the street and into the car. 

~ 

Yunho approached the front desk of Kang Tower. It had been a year since he last set foot in the building, noticing how much had changed in a span of 12 months. From the minimalist Japanese-themed interiors last year, the changes he figured Yeosang made now made everything about the place in the art deco style, the walls and marble floors having geometric shapes for patterns, crystal chandeliers above their heads. The interior seemed to be a stark contrast to how it looked outside. 

He stopped in front of the information board, figuring out what floor Yeosang was probably on. He could always teleport if he couldn’t find him where he first stopped. As soon as Yunho figured out the likely place, he rushed into a shadowy hall where he disappeared, reappearing in a dark hallway that he quickly realized was Yeosang’s penthouse. Just like the design of the interior of the whole building, Yeosang’s penthouse was decorated in the same art deco manner. 

“Kang Yeosang?” Yunho called out as he walked further down the hall, the chandelier above illuminating the entire area. He looked around, creeping into the very bare yet equally opulent-looking kitchen. He was not there. 

Yunho went into a shadowy part of the hall again, reappearing in what looked like an empty conference room. From the looks of how everything seemed to be set up, he figured that a meeting was going to be taking place. The doors opened and in came the mutant himself, his hair now dyed black and was slightly shorter than his previous blonde hairstyle. Yeosang stopped in his tracks upon seeing Yunho and turned to the group of businessmen behind him. “Gentlemen, if you don’t mind waiting a while, I will have a word with this man over there,” He gestured to the taller. 

The group of businessmen nodded, dispersing into the hall, likely going to the waiting area. Yeosang closed the door behind him and Yunho sat down on one of the chairs. “It’s been a while, Yeosang, we need to talk,” He said. 

“By all means, I assume you didn’t just come here because you wanted to hang out anyways,” Yeosang sat down on the nearest chair. “Having trouble, Yunho?” 

“Well, not really, I’m personally not in trouble, but there are other people that would be once you tell me what I’m going to ask,” Yunho said. 

“Then ask.” 

“Madame Seo. Do you know her?” Yunho noticed Yeosang’s expression stiffen at the question. He said nothing. “Kang Yeosang, I need you to tell me what you know about her, how you know her, all of that.” 

Yeosang broke into a small smile. “Jeong Yunho, are you really going to tell me all about that conspiracy theory going all over the internet? That’s old news.” 

“Nothing’s confirmed, nothing’s denied either, I might as well find the truth out for myself,” Yunho was quick to match up to him. “I mean, Mirae-” 

“Ah, Mirae,” Yeosang cut him off. “She knows, huh?” 

“Would you rather she be the one asking you this?” Yunho raised a brow, making Yeosang’s smug expression fall. “I can see the way you look at her, the way you speak to her, you know. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.” 

“Oh, that tactic, huh?” Yeosang chuckled. “Yunho, you’re a new immortal, you haven’t lived as long as I have...yet, to know that this kind of interrogation has already been done to me before. It gets old, if you pardon the pun.” 

“Then tell me what you know about Madame Seo,” Yunho pressed on. “Or how you know her if you do know her.” 

“She’s a hostess,” Yeosang replied. “That’s all she is.” 

“Oh yeah? So she doesn’t own a clothing brand called Montague?” 

“It’s possible the Seo that owns Montague is a different one, you know,” Yeosang pointed out. “But seeing as I can tell you plan on using your Mirae on me again in asking, Madame Seo is a hostess, that just so happens to own a clothing brand.” 

“A high-end clothing brand,” Yunho corrected him. “You must pay her a lot for her to put up that expensive a brand, that coincidentally hardly anyone knows about.” 

“Oh I’m not her only client, and that was years ago, I haven’t been paying for the services of her girls in a while,” Yeosang scoffed. 

“Are any of those girls actresses? Aspiring actresses? Singers?” Yunho asked. 

“You think I was personally asking for their services on me?” Yeosang couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “To answer your question, no I wasn’t, I could tell the difference between a regular worker there and someone who was forced to do all those things.” 

Yunho nodded. “Just when we thought you were coming around, we find out about this. What else do you know about her?” 

Yeosang stared at him. “She was a hostess to me, that’s that. However, she does have a hold on many powerful people in this country.”

“What is she holding over their heads?” 

Yeosang smiled. “Time’s up, I’m afraid, I have a meeting with those businessmen and they would not appreciate being kept waiting.” 

Yunho got up, feeling frustrated. “Alright, fine. But I wonder what hold she has on you,” He eyed the shorter male before leaving. As soon as he stepped out, the crowd of businessmen flocked inside the room. He didn’t want to leave just yet, he knew there were still some things he could find out even without Yeosang telling him. It wouldn’t make sense if Madame Seo knew he was a mutant and was using it against him. Yunho figured that Yeosang didn’t really care if anyone else outside their circle knew as no one would believe them anyway. 

He approached the dark part of the hall and in a second, reappeared in another room in the building. Yeosang’s office. Yunho felt a tinge of relief upon noticing the nameplate on the desk. For an elaborately decorated building, Yeosang’s office was a little less opulent-looking but remained in the art deco style. Yunho figured if there was anything he could find, Yeosang’s

office would be the most likely place. There were plaques on the walls, showing the successes of the Kang Organization, some of them the deals that were made. 

Yunho froze when he heard footsteps heading in the direction of the office. From the silhouette that was shown from the frosted window, it was an office clerk, Yeosang’s executive secretary. He hid on the side of the desk by the window when the secretary opened the door. The footsteps got louder, the clinking of her heels echoing throughout the office. 

“Yes, Mr. Kang, I will be there with your proposal,” She said to someone, opening the drawers on the side nearest to Yunho, making him shift even more to keep himself hidden. “Yes? Oh, the Montague file? It’s just here, Mr. Kang.” He perked up when he heard the name of the brand. Yunho listened carefully. “Montague, Montague, and the Kang Entertainment deal, yes it’s all here, Mr. Kang,” The secretary spoke again, and a shuffling of paper later and the door closed again. 

Yunho got up to his feet, his lips pursed in frustration. He quietly looked into the drawers of Yeosang’s desk until he came across a photo of Mirae, taken at Sky Sushi by possibly one of the event’s photographers. It reminded him of his previous assertion, and at this point he didn’t even care to get jealous. Yunho looked through the rest of his drawers, finding neatly stacked and filed papers. “Where are the Montague and Kang Entertainment files,” He muttered as he looked through the stacks for any indication of at least one of the two before searching the bigger drawers at the bottom and the wooden file cabinet in another part of the room. 

In a sea of black leather folders, Yunho stopped at one of them that had a label “MTG” in gold. He quietly took it out from under the stack and opened it. It was a document detailing his financial stake in Montague. He looked at the date it was all signed. It was in the same year that the actress whose husband left her for Madame Seo was killed. Yunho closed the folder and looked through the files again for any mention of Kang Entertainment. 

Yunho searched another one of the bigger drawers, looking through the labels of the files when he stopped upon seeing a black leather folder labeled “Kang Entertainment.” Before he could open the file, he heard footsteps from the same secretary again. Yunho closed the drawers, one of them closing with a slight thud, that made the secretary walk faster. Taking the files, he went into the dark corner and vanished. 

~ 

Mirae pulled over across the street from Kang Entertainment. She made sure to look a little more presentable, knowing that she was going to do. She wasn’t even sure what she would find in that place, possibly full of celebrities and the people that practically work for them. This was just like Hyuk’s workplace, only she didn’t know anyone, and she wasn’t sure if there were mutants among them either. She ran across the street, past a group of fans that were staring at the doors, possibly to wait for any idols to come out. 

“I’m here and I’m going in,” She said to the communicator to Junhong. 

“Good luck. I put you in their appointment system, they should have your alias written down,” Junhong said before they hung up. 

Figuring out the other entrance, she stepped inside and approached the front desk. “Hello, I’d like to speak to the CEO? I’m Cha Jihyun of Entrepreneur Magazine and I was supposed to interview him today,” She said the rehearsed coverup she had. 

The concierge nodded, looking through a monitor. “Ah yes, Cha Jihyun. The executive offices are through the hall on the left, you can make your way there,” They gestured to the corner. 

“Thank you,” Mirae exhaled in relief as she walked off, eyeing every detail of the place she was in. There were framed photos of their artists and posters of movies and dramas of the actors they had. 

The farther she went into the company, she passed by a training room where three boys seemed to be dancing, music blasting from their speakers, possibly for their comeback. One boy was wearing a bright red, the other one was wearing orange, and the boy in glasses was wearing a vivid purple. In the corner of the practice room, Mirae saw more movie posters that included the names and faces of the victims. “Hello,” Someone said behind her, making her turn around. 

“Oh hello,” Mirae bowed. Four boys dressed in green, pink, a faded blue, and yellow were standing in front of her, all of them holding bubble tea and ice cream. 

“Are you looking for someone?” The boy in yellow and wearing round glasses said. “Are we getting interviewed today?” 

“Oh no, no, I was just passing by. You must be a new group,” Mirae sensed something unusual about them. 

“Yes we are, we just debuted last year,” The boy in the faded blue hoodie with matching jogging pants replied. 

“Ah, I see,” Mirae nodded, unable to shake off the unusual feeling she was getting from all of them, especially the boy wearing pink and the blonde boy wearing green. “Well, good luck in your career, I should be going now,” She stepped back, bowing to greet them one more time before turning around to walk down the hall that led to the CEO’s office. 

“Please interview us next time!” She heard them say from a distance. Mirae could sense the lingering stares from the four boys the more she walked towards the door. 

As she finally stopped in front of the door that had the CEO’s name on it with a woman who was his secretary, seated behind her desk nearby. “Cha Jihyun of Entrepreneur Magazine?” She said. 

“That’s me,” Mirae raised her hand. 

“Please go inside the office, he is currently in a meeting and he’ll be with you shortly,” The woman gestured to the door. Mirae bowed in thanks before entering. 

Once she was inside, she took in her surroundings. The CEO’s office was very spacious, very modern-looking, with three tall shelves of figurines and plaques of the agency’s achievements and sales. Mirae sat down at the very end of the couch, closest to the desk. Everything she would want to know would likely be in that computer, she figured, eyeing the laptop and the monitor on the desk. 

The door opened again, and to her surprise, in came the four boys. “Our CEO said to keep you company,” The boy in yellow spoke as he sat down next to her, while the boy in pink leaned against the desk in front of her. “We’re very close to him, we’re like his sons,” He mused. 

“Oh, I would’ve thought you were all back to practicing or something,” Mirae eyed them. “With what you’re all wearing.” 

“Oh this?” The boy in pink giggled, while the boys in blue and green exchanged knowing looks, a smirk creeping up on the face of the boy wearing green. “We were recording a video for our fans!” 

“Oh, we’ve been very silly, we should introduce ourselves, right?” The boy in yellow glanced at his colleagues, who nodded. “I’m Jungwon.” 

“Sunoo,” said the boy in pink. 

“Jay,” said the boy in green.

“And I’m Sunghoon,” said the boy in blue. 

“For a rookie group, you all certainly don’t act like it,” Mirae glanced at each of them, acknowledging their introductions. The boys only chuckled in response. 

“You have a very pretty neck,” Jay suddenly said.

“...Thanks,” Mirae stared at him for a moment. “I guess.” 

“I mean it,” Jay sat down on her other side. “A very pretty neck.” 

“Shouldn’t you be flirting with girls your own age? Or younger?” Mirae sensed that Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Sunoo were also looking at her the same way Jay was at that moment. They were looking at her rather … hungrily. 

“Age is but a number, and a state of mind,” Jungwon muttered, also staring at her neck. 

“We can’t date anyway, at least for a few years,” Sunghoon chimed in. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re all acting like vampires,” Mirae watched them closely. 

“It’s also our concept,” Sunoo giggled, Sunghoon smirking from where he stood. 

“Ah,” Mirae remained calm, figuring them out. “It’s funny you should mention my neck because, people from this agency were murdered, with marks on their wrists and necks…” She studied their faces for any change in reaction. If she wasn’t hearing things, she would’ve sworn she heard Jungwon hiss. 

“Their blood must’ve tasted good,” Sunghoon shuddered. 

“In that case, you wouldn’t want mine,” Mirae stood up, understanding completely what she was into. 

That made Jay and Jungwon stand up, the four boys walking up to her. “We won’t know if we don’t try,” Sunghoon reached for her hand and turned it over to look at her wrist. ��All that running through your veins, I haven’t had my meal yet.” 

“You probably should,” Mirae snatched her hand back, her eyes widening when their faces had twisted and changed completely. 

Their eyes turned red and fangs grew out from their teeth. “We will,” Sunoo giggled again. 

#kdiner #ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez scenarios #ateez timestamps #ateez blurbs #ateez au #seonghwa #hongjoong #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #jeong yunho #ateez yunho #kang yeosang #ateez yeosang #choi san #ateez san #song mingi #ateez mingi #jung wooyoung #jeong wooyoung #ateez wooyoung

[babbushka]

Beautiful, Beloved (6/8)

You had met three times: The first, an introduction. The second, a lunch. The third, your wedding. Can bonds be made in such short a time as a week long honeymoon aboard the immensely impressive RMS Titanic?

Yes, yes they can.

Titanic!AU Kylo Ren x Reader

6.2k ; Warnings: Angst

                                                           -------------

It was a race, up to the passenger decks. That sound, that horrible gushing rushing thrumming thudding sound of water, water where water should not be, pounded against your skull. You didn’t see any yet, there was no water around yet, but you knew there would be soon – something had happened to the Titanic, and there would be water soon.

You and Kylo whirled up staircase after staircase, as fear and dread plummeted down into the very depths of your soul. It was so empty throughout so much of the ship, so empty. Too late in the evening, you supposed, it had to be nearing midnight, surely everyone was in their beds.

“The ship!” You shouted loud and clear, slamming your hand against the wall as you raced through hallways, “There’s something wrong with the ship!”

You and Kylo made the climb up to B-deck, legs sore from so much sudden exercise. Your voice carried out through the empty halls, making people poke their heads out from the narrow corridors which housed their cabins.

Kylo, though he stayed silent, never once let go of your hand.

You shouted still, a plea for those to hear you, to heed your warning that something was wrong -- when you bumped into a man dressed in his finest. Guggenheim, you presumed, from the nature of his dress. He was in his complete finery for some odd reason, as if he had not yet undressed after dinner.

“There’s ice all across the boat deck.” He said, as if that was any explanation.

You could feel something, something in the ship, could feel a leaning. A tilt, perhaps maybe it was imagined, you weren’t sure, your heart was beating too quickly and your mind was all over the place.

“Ice?” You didn’t know what that meant – surely there had been only a small explosion, something meaningless in the grand scheme of things, something they could repair, could account for.

“We’ve struck an iceberg, they’re handing out life jackets and ordering everyone to the top deck to board the lifeboats. They’ll be deploying them in twenty minutes.” The man explained, and suddenly a wave of nausea struck you, for there would be no way to repair damage to the hull of the ship, no way to account for that in the design of this beautiful beast.

“Twenty minutes! Shit, thank you sir – thank you so much!” Was all you were able to say, before Kylo was practically dragging you up the remainder of the stairs, down down down the corridors to your cabin.

                                                            -------------

He wasted little time rummaging through all your things, all your trunks, the moment the door to the cabin closed.

“Get dressed at once, something warm, warmer than you think. It will be freezing out there.” He said, already thinking ten steps ahead.

How dependable he was, your Kylo. Even in the midst of your panic, he remained calm. You were thankful for this, and you too began rummaging through trunks.

You found your thickest wool sweaters, gratefully took the heavy lined trousers that your husband gently tossed to you. You knew dresses and skirts would simply not do, they wouldn’t keep you warm, wouldn’t let you be as agile as you needed, not now.

“Kylo…” You began, buttoning up everything and pulling your nice fur coat and hat onto your person, “Darling do you think there’ll be enough lifeboats for everyone? Everyone aboard, I mean.”

It was an errant thought, but one that you couldn’t help but worry about. Yes they had done the drill before departing Southampton of course, but they also had taken on so many more people than had once been planned. And all those who had boarded in Ireland too, you were concerned for those in the third class who might not have even yet heard the orders.

“I don’t know, I can only assume so.” Kylo shook his head, shedding his rigid dinner clothing and instead pulling on thick wools and a tweed suit that would warm his bones as well, when you were both on the lifeboat. He rushed to your side, kissed the back of your hand urgently. “Quickly blossom, we haven’t time to lose.”

You nod in agreement, returning your attention to ensuring that you had everything fastened and strapped to your body that you could.

Kylo had stepped into the other room for a moment, was going through the safe. In it, he had stacks and stacks of cash, all your very fine jewelry, paperwork for New York and something which shocked you, yet really shouldn’t have.

“Here take this – ” He pressed the gun into your hand, the bite of the metal cold even through the leather of your gloves. He searched your gaze seriously cooly calmly, voice low as he asked, “Do you know how to fire it if needed?”

“Yes of course, but I don’t think – ” You blinked, recoiling at the insinuation.

You didn’t like that, didn’t like the idea that Kylo would not be there to fire it for you.

“I’ve seen what chaos will do to men who claim to be respectable. I’ve looked terror in the eyes, please, please just take it.” He pressed, and only for his own reassurance did you close your hand around it, put it safely in your coat pocket.

“Alright.” You sighed, reaching for his hand once more.

It took two steps outside your door, for someone to literally run into you.

Thankfully, that someone was Rose, and she was wide-eyed with worry and fear. Her expression crashed into something more relieved at the sight of you and Kylo, and you knew she’d be smiling if things weren’t so uncertain. Rose had a certain sort of hope to her, a spirit that you found infectious. You borrowed some of that hope, and embraced her in a hug.

“Oh Rose, come quickly we’ve been ordered to evacuate.” You said, in case she hadn’t heard.

“I’m eternally glad to see you my Lord and Lady, please let’s go now before things turn hectic.” She agreed, to which Kylo agreed as well by a firm tug on your hand.

“Where’s Dopheld?” You remained unmoving for a moment, looking over the heads of passengers who had begun to file calmly and orderly out of their rooms through the corridors, trying to find the well-mannered valet.

“I don’t know, we’re not in the same quarters. Perhaps he is with those of the geriatric first class like he has been this whole time. I’m sure they’re all up on top deck waiting for us.” Rose said with a little scoff.

“Let’s not waste any more time, come. If he’s there we will find him.” Kylo tugged on your hand once more, and this time you went.

                                                            -------------

In another context, it would have been beautiful, the stars. Oh how many stars there were in the night sky! There were a million of them, a hundred million perhaps, twinkling in patterns and constellations that you did not know the names of. The stars were all there was, no clouds, no wind, not even a moon to illuminate the water below. Nothing but a vast expanse of black, frigid and freezing cold. You wondered if this is what nightmares looked like, that feeling of running into the void forever and ever, never coming out the other side.

There was light, of course, from the ship. Small lights mounted to the walls, light from rooms within the ship all gave you enough to see by. But you could not see anything beyond merely a few feet off the ship’s railings. Where was this great iceberg, the one Titanic had hit? You couldn’t see, and after a moment, you gave up trying to look.

The top deck was aswarm with people. Passengers of first and second class were crowding the railings, waiting their turn in lines to board boats which had been lowered enough over the side of the ship to accommodate them. Officers were blowing their whistles and directing traffic as it were. Nobody seemed to be panicking, and so you too did not panic.

Well, you did, but seeing the crew so calm gave you an inkling of faith.

Kylo led you and Rose to one such line, checked and double checked that your clothing was well fitting enough. You could see your breath in front of you, white clouds puffed with each exhale. You wondered if you were breathing too much, if it was making you dizzy, because you could feel a lean, a tilt, you knew you could.

You tried not to listen to the crying around you, but gave in, wondering what the sobs were of. Fear, like your own? Yes, surely. But then you paid attention a little harder, listened to the goodbyes and the farewell kisses, and that was when you realized there were no men aboard the departing lifeboats, save for the single officer in charge of commanding it.

This reality hit you harshly when it was your turn to step over the railing, and Kylo let go of your hand.

“You’re coming with me.” You said. It wasn’t a question or a plea, but an order, an instruction.  

“Women and children only at this time.” An officer approached you, shaking his head at you.  

“But good sir – !” Your voiced cracked, rabbit pulse in your throat.

Here you were, dressed in trousers of all things, one leg over the railing of the Titanic, and you couldn’t even have your husband with you?

The officer noted your distress and he sighed sympathetically.

“I’m very sorry ma’am, rules are rules.” He chewed his lip, seeming to recognize who your husband was. Whether it was from gossip, or your strolls, or some other reason you didn’t know, but he turned to Kylo and regarded him with respect. “But please know, Lord Ren, we will have a place for you aboard the lifeboat. It may just take some time once the women and children have boarded.”

You looked between them, between Kylo and Rose and the officer, and the lifeboat filled with people awaiting you to join them so they could depart themselves.

“This is to take quite some time, I assume?” Kylo asked the officer.

“Yes Lord Ren, we’ve been told that the damage was not so severe. Please, if you would be so patient, we’ll have you on the first boat off as soon as we’ve secured the more delicate of passengers.” The young man – for he was young, wasn’t he? Had to be no older than you, and what a wonder was that. You couldn’t imagine yourself in charge of mitigating a crisis like this.

Kylo clenched his jaw, released the grip on your hand.

“(Y/N), Rose, get on the boat.” He said firmly yet softly, not cruel just set. “It’ll be alright, we’ve got time. I’m going to look for Dopheld, I don’t see him aboard the deck. I’m going to get him and we’ll board the lifeboat.”

“Kylo please – ” You felt hysteria rise for a moment, felt the hiccup of a sob at the thought at the mere notion of parting from him now of all times.

“Everything’s going to be alright my angel, I will find you the moment I can. I’ll force the rowers to keep our boats next to one another, chain them together, so we may hold hands and I may comfort you. But you must go now, go.” He wrapped you up in his arms, pet your hair with comforting soothing strokes of his palm. He kissed your cheek once, twice, three times, before whispering in your ear so only you could hear.

Your chin wobbled and pinched, but you took a deep breath. You would not become one of the women crying over her husband, for that would be a goodbye. You were not saying goodbye, not yet.

“Do you promise?” You said instead, eyes hard, stubborn.

“I swear to you.” He grasped your arms and kissed you.

There was so much in the kiss, so much. There was passion, there was sincerity, there was fear. You could taste the fear off his lips, the iron nickel copper flavor of blood in his mouth from where he had bitten through his cheek. It didn’t comfort you as much as it should have.

You resigned that you would simply kiss him again when you were both on the boats, when they were chained together just as Kylo had said.

“Ma’am!” The officer aboard the lifeboat shouted at you, no doubt his own nerves frazzled and frayed from this unexpected event. He had a flashlight in his hands to cut through the inky darkness, shined it onto your waiting spot, guiding your feet. “Onto the boat, please!”

“Yes, yes alright. Alright.” You said, tried to remain calm, polite.

It was just as Kylo said, people could get ugly in times of tension, you didn’t want to be an instigating factor.

                                                          -------------

There was something harrowing, about the sight of your husband receding into the distance as the rowboat began to depart. So far away he was now, just a dot among the crowd, from all the way in the water. Rose sat close to your side, the two of you keeping warm together while some stronger women took charge of the oars and pushed you all away from the ship.

From there you could see the tilt much more prominently, could see it for what it was. The ship was leaning to one side, drastically so. It was sick, a sick relief that which swept through you, but relief you felt nonetheless that you weren’t losing it. You needed all your wits about you.

The thought made you laugh inside your own head, the last time you said that had been preparing for dinner with the Huxes – and now here you were wondering if they’d gotten onto a boat themselves. Lord and Lady Hux were smart people, but they were both filled with alcohol last you saw them. You closed your eyes against the dread of cold, hoped against all hope they would make it out in time.

The officer aboard your lifeboat had been shouting orders at those who rowed, keeping them in time.

Row!

Row!

Row!

He blew his whistle to the beat of his own drum, and the rowers rowed on command. You wished you could help, wished you could do something. But your arms were not meant for sport like this, even if you could you’d probably throw the whole lifeboat off course.

So instead, you and Rose huddle against one another, as children huddle against their mothers beside you, everyone doing their best to keep warm.

You didn’t know how long or how far you had gotten from the ship. Not very far, for you could still see the great ocean liner, the lights still bright, the sound of the crew and passengers still loud in your ears. So loud in fact, that you almost think you’re imagining it when the return orders come in.  

“This is the Captain speaking. You there, lifeboat four!” The man in white, the captain which you had seen on your first day was calling into a megaphone. “Lifeboat four, this is the Captain, return to the ship at once.”

The plea was repeated twice more, and yet the officer stationed at the front of your lifeboat paid him no mind.

“Keep rowing.” The man said instead.

“Excuse me?” You could not prevent yourself from this incredulous inquiry.

“You heard what I said, ma’am, keep rowing.” The man held his ground.

You straightened your back, squared your shoulders. Anger rushed through you, a temper which you used so seldomly. But it was a just temper you reasoned. He was committing a mutiny by ignoring the orders, must have been committing some moral breach by it too. The lifeboat was nearly half-filled, you could mentally picture how a woman could sit just there, or a child could be soothed over there.

“And you heard what the Captain said! We must go back, there is plenty of room here.” You turned to your fellow lifeboat passengers, hoping they would agree with you, hoping they’d stand up for themselves and for their fellow women. “We can go back and take more people, we can save more lives.”

And they did seem inclined, until the officer threw down his whistle with a slam, rushed forward and grabbed you by your coat collar, brought you close to his face so you could see just how ugly of a person he truly was.

“I said, keep rowing.” He ordered between grit teeth.

Quick as a whip you pulled the gun out from your coat pocket, knocked back the safety. You cocked the trigger and shoved the barrel of the gun against his cheek. Your hand did not shake, nor did your voice tremble, when you ordered,

“We’re going back.”

                                                          -------------

The atmosphere on the Titanic had changed dramatically, by the time your lifeboat returned to the side of the ship. The thing was sinking, this was evident, so clear in the way the front of the ship had tipped so drastically into the water. You could see it, could see the way the frozen ocean sloshed and lapped at the polished wood of the deck from all the way over there, all the way on the other end.

Men women and children scrambled, cries and screams were loud and clear from decks below you, from the deck you’re on. Dogs barked and chased one another, cats hissed and meowed, birds in cages squawked among the stampede of passengers who had flooded the top deck.

But by some miracle, some incredible miracle, you see your valet up against the railing, holding hands of those climbing onto boats and helping them settle. He is dressed in his best, and for this your heart warms you through the deep chill of the night April air.

“Dopheld!” You called, disarming your gun and relinquishing the officer whom you had been holding hostage for the duration of the trip back. You shouted and waved your arms to catch his attention, “Mr. Dopheld!! How glad we are to see you, did Lord Ren find you in short order?”

Dopheld rushed to your side, reached a hand over the railing for you. You grasped it and give it a good firm shake, so so so pleased to see him. Your eyes scanned his surrounding area, looking for the tall handsome man you called your own, but your wild grin faded into something of dread and despair when you did not find him.

“No, my Lady, I have not seen him.” Dopheld frowned too, and you could feel it against his palm, the clamminess which broke out upon realizing, “You mean to say he has gone looking for me?”

“Yes, shit, yes he has.” You cursed, mildly shocking those in the boat with you.

You make a split second decision then, and tighten your grip on Dopheld’s hand. He understood at once, and helped hoist you out of the lifeboat. Those around you looked at you like you were a madwoman, and maybe you were. Maybe you were.

But Kylo was in there, somewhere in the ship, and it was sinking, and you would not go without him.

You turned to a group of people waiting to board, helped usher them to the front of the railing.

“Here, children here, please sit.” You said, picking them up and handing them to the people in your boat, lending a hand for the mothers to follow suit. “Go without me, I’ll get on another. I just – I must find him.”

“Ma’am please – ” One of the women on the boat, one of the rowers, began to implore you to come back but you’d made up your mind.

“Go.” You shook your head before turning to your friends, “Dopheld, you stay here and assist these fine officers. Rose, help keep the children at ease. I’ll be back.”

You felt a hand grasp the back of your coat, and you were nearly pulled back from the force of someone yanking themselves up over the railing, out of the ship too.

“No!” Rose shouted, voice loud loud loud in your ear, desperate in a way you’d never heard from anyone before. “No, I’m going with you.”

She righted herself on the deck, brushed down the skirt of her dress, smoothed the bodice and lifted her chin high, defiant.

“Please we don’t have time for this – ” You tried, but just as stubborn as you were, so was she.

“I won’t let you go alone.” She insisted, and you would never say it out loud, you’d never admit it, but part of you was so grateful that you wouldn’t have to dive back into the Titanic alone.

Dopheld remained on the top deck at your orders, this kind and gentle boy. He helped women and children alike into lifeboats that were clearly outnumbered, tried his best to remain calm, even when those shouted and screamed and cried around him. You threw a look at him over your shoulder as you and Rose began to run into the main lobby of the ship, and you hoped beyond hope that it would not be your last.

                                                          -------------

You entered the ship on the first class B-deck, through one of the passenger corridor doors which had been left open. You and Rose had to fight a surge of passengers in all their finery who began exiting through the corridor at once, pushing and shoving you to the walls. You were afraid for a moment that you’d be trampled to death, but you pushed through.  

“By god we’re sinking!” A woman screamed, clutching a crying child to her chest.

“Quick, you must get to the top deck immediately, you must!” A man shouted, voice gruff and deep and in command.

“Everyone, calmly! Please!” Another man ordered to no avail.

“Life-jackets! Give me a life-jacket!” A woman begged.

You tried to filter it all out – you had one mission, one quest, as it were. Searching for Kylo took up all of your mental energy in that moment, you nearly grow numb to the frenzy around you.

Your legs were sore but you pressed on, making your way through the corridor of first class men and women and finding yourself in the lobby at the foot of the grand staircase. How strange, you thought, that the beauty of the staircase would soon be at the bottom of the ocean? How sad, that the gorgeous wood carving and latticework would be rotted away, eroded by time and salt.

Kylo was not there, he wasn’t. You would have seen him by now, and so, you must keep going, further and further into the ship, closer and closer to the water.

                                                            -------------

Chaos, was the word. The only word that could describe the sights around you. People, so many people, running for their lives. Did they know which way to run? Did they know which way it was to safety, to freedom?

Did you?

You’re deep in the depths of the ship now, the beauty of the first class all gone. There were no grand staircases down here, no beautiful glass dome skylights, no angels holding torches. You were in a corridor, a winding maze of dead ends which frustrated you beyond anything else. You wished your tour of the ship had been more thorough, hadn’t included simply the first three levels.

Because Kylo was not on the first three levels. He was not anywhere, nowhere in sight.

When you opened your mouth to call his name, to shout for him down this new corridor once more, it came out as a scream, hoarse and shrill.

“Kylo!” You begged, cupping your hands around your mouth much in the same way the captain had cupped his hands around his megaphone, “Kylo can you hear me?”

The noise was swallowed by something horrific, by something dangerous and terrifying – silence. You closed your eyes briefly and assumed that all it meant, was that everyone had already gone, already rushed to the top deck, already abandoned their beds.

Rose sighed, scrubbed her hand across her sweat-drenched face. She was just as unaccustomed to the sprinting as you were, and no doubt her calves and knees were aching with new use. Scullery maids did much, did so much work, but nothing like this, never under conditions like these.

Still, you ran ran ran as fast as your legs could take you, back through the empty corridor and into the lobby.

“I don’t know which deck we’re even on, where are we?” Rose asked, her voice too hoarse and clipping in and out of audibility.

“E? I believe we’re on E, see the staircase?” You pointed behind you.

“I see it – I see it and we have to go, we have to go now!” Rose screamed, because as you looked toward the sound of her panic, you saw it.

 Water.

 So much water.

 More water than you had imagined, ever imagined seeing inside.

 It did not come in a great plunge or gush, it did not erupt like a geyser through the ship. You must have been far from the damaged part of the Titanic you thought, for it to rise so slowly, so steadily.

But it did rise, and just as it did, tears welled in your eyes. You blinked them away, hot and filled with terror, frozen in place. Fight or flight truly had nothing on freeze, you thought to yourself, thought of the way that water would soon reach the landing of the staircase, would soon overtake the room.

You grabbed Rose’s hand, raced to the other end of the ship. You could not turn back now, you couldn’t. You had searched so much of the Titanic, had looked through so much. If you simply moved farther and farther away from the damage, perhaps you could outrun the water a little longer.

Just a little longer to look, you had to keep looking.

                                                            -------------

Rose ran, and you ran with her, down the other end of the ship, and there you were met with more more more people, scrambling, racing, screaming.

Why was everyone screaming?

Were you screaming?

You couldn’t tell.

“Kylo!” You begged, for now it was begging, now it was pleading to you didn’t even know who – fate, the universe, someone, anyone. You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath as tears rolled hot down your cheeks, “Kylo Ren!”

Part of you, a traitorous part of you, wondered if he would ever hear you again. If perhaps he was lost forever, if perhaps you’d never find him.

The water was up to your knees now. Bitter cold, the coldest thing you’d ever felt. It made the running so much harder, not just for you but for everyone. And oh how it seemed everyone was here, shoutingscreamingwailingbeggingcrying --

Save us.

Save us.

Save us.

Your breath quickened, your pulse hammering against your temples as you screamed out his name again, leaning on a grand marble pillar for support, wondering if he were somewhere out there screaming for you.

You were lost, so lost. Not within the ship, no. You’d somehow gotten back up the ship, climbed too many stairs to count, landed yourself in the Palm Court. Oh how you loved eating lunch here just a few short days ago, days which now felt a lifetime away. No, you were not lost aboard the Titanic, but without Kylo.

You cried, cried and sobbed as the ship lurched, leaned to the side more prominently. All the furniture began to tip, all the chairs and tables which had been set so carefully for the next day slid down towards the wall.

The ship creaked and groaned, you could hear it, could hear the way it flooded, could hear the way it swallowed so much water. You didn’t care about the tears anymore, what was a few more drops of saltwater after all?

“Lady Ren – ” Rose tried to comfort you, but you stopped her there.

“(Y/N). Call me (Y/N), Rose please I beg of you.” You looked at her, really looked at your friend.

For she was your friend, was she not? Not just staff, but a friend. If you were to die together in the bowels of this ship, you would not do so as Lady and Scullery Maid. You’d do it as friends.

“(Y/N),” She said, embracing you in her arms, comforting you as you comforted her right back. “He isn’t here. Perhaps we missed him somehow?”

“I don’t – I don’t know where he could be, I have to keep looking, Rose, I have to.” You were adamant, were insistent, were stubborn. The surface was so close, it was so close and you knew she was thinking it. You gave her the permission she needed, “If you wish to return to the lifeboats, I beseech you please do, please get yourself safe.”

Rose looked offended at that, as men and women and children all cried and shouted around you.

Save us.

Save us.

Save us.

“No, I meant it what I said. I won’t leave you, I can’t bear to do that, I have to make sure you’re alright.” She shook her head and you could only sob, could only hold on as the ship tipped tipped tipped.

“Why? Rose please – ” You tried, when she stepped away.

“Because I couldn’t save my sister!” She shouted, as if the admission was one she’d been harboring all this time, “I couldn’t save her and I can’t bear the thought of leaving someone else in a time of great need. I couldn’t help her, but I can help you, and Lord Ren, and I intend to stay by your side.”

“You are very kind.” You said. You wanted to add so much more, like brave and good and deserving of so much more, but your brain couldn’t come up with the words.

The lights flashed and sparked, and you worried for a moment that you’d electrocute yourselves before you found him.

The water was up to your thighs now, and oh it was so cold. It felt stupid almost, to remark on the temperature of the water in a sinking ship, but you couldn’t wrap your mind around how awfully, exceedingly, cold it was.

“You could have let the rowboat leave half-filled, and you didn’t. You could have stayed in the boat, but you didn’t. You could have abandoned Kylo – surely you’d inherit all his money and live comfortably after his death, surely you’d remarry, no one would blame you -- but here we are.” Rose said, and for some reason, for some reason you begin to laugh through your tears.

You could have, this was all true. You could have packed up and sat on that lifeboat and never looked back. You had known Kylo what, a week? Three days at home and four on the Titanic. Surely you would have gotten over him in time, surely you would have done all the things Rose said and lived a long and happy life with someone else.

But you didn’t want someone else, anyone else.

You wanted Kylo.

You Kylo, who went to war and fought and killed and nearly died for it. Your Kylo, who murdered his father and drew swords against his sister. Your Kylo, who was cruel and callous and evil, surely he was evil.

Except he wasn’t, he wasn’t. He was kind and compassionate and fair and funny and so handsome and so smart and loving and oh you loved him! You loved him and you’d never even told him. You’d never even uttered those words, those three little words. The realization grips your heart like a vice and you wonder if you’re having an attack of some sort, you gasp out and brace yourself against your friend, against Rose.

“I…” You found your eyes were blurred once more, “I know it may seem silly, for we have known each other only a short time. But I cannot imagine my life without him, without any of you now that we have had this time together. I don’t want to imagine it.”

“You are good to him, good to all of us.” Rose hugged you tightly.

The lights flashed and flared, one by one going out as the water level began to rise faster.

It was up to your waists now.

You didn’t know what to do. You didn’t know what drowning felt like, you didn’t know, and that not knowing dripped terror as cold as the water sloshing and smacking around the walls of the lobby. You hugged your friend for a moment more, opened your eyes to see, to stare at the flood, at the sinking, to scorn it.

When – when just there, wait!

Was that a flash of hair you recognized?

Was that a glimpse of his jacket cuff that you had buttoned for him so lovingly? How long ago had that been, one hour, two? Had it already been two hours?

 The water was up to your ribs now.

 “I see him!” You gasped, because yes yes yes that was Kylo, that was Kylo rising up through the stairwell, water propelling him to the surface. “I think – I think that is him!”

You let go of Rose immediately, began making your way towards him, towards your husband. You did not think about how he was face down, you did not think about how he was unmoving. You thought of nothing but getting to him, but getting to Kylo.

“You’ll have to swim, (Y/N) the water is rising we have to swim – !” Rose shouted, as the doors of the corridor all began to burst, water shooting into the lobby, so cold.

“Rose?” You laughed, nearly hysterical.

“Yes?” Rose replied, looking at you like you’d gone mad.

“If we survive this,” You laughed and laughed because how fucked up is this, how fucked up is all of this, how terrible and awful and terrifying is this, that all you can do was laugh when you asked, “Would you be my lady’s maid?”

And Rose smiled then, despite the water rising up to her neck, despite her hanging on to the marble pillar which you have now abandoned.

“It’d be an honor, (Y/N).” She said, as the two of you took a deep breath, the water finally rising above your heads.

                                                            -------------

It was him, floating there in the water. You did not have to do much by means of getting to him, with the water now flooded the room completely. The current inside the Palm Court itself brought him to you, brought your Kylo to you.

He was so handsome, you couldn’t help but think as you hooked your arms underneath his shoulders, as you kicked kicked kicked to the stairwell where Rose was swimming away. She was swimming ahead to breathe, and you followed her.

Before you had been chased by water, and now you were chasing air.

You felt your eyes nearly freeze over under the water. You had to keep them open, had to force them open. How long had you been under, a minute? A second? An hour? You didn’t know, couldn’t tell. All you knew was that here under the water, Kylo weighed nothing at all, as you kicked.

There were lights up ahead, shimmering in the distance. Not so far then, you thought. How were you so calm? Or perhaps you weren’t calm at all, perhaps you were simply so overwhelmed that you had grown numb to everything. Was the water making you numb? You didn’t know.

You didn’t know, but you had Kylo, and that was what mattered.

You swam, desperate, so close so close so close so close – and finally!

Your head breached the water, the water which rushed and tried to drag you back down. You didn’t let it, and neither did Rose, Rose who had swam ahead enough to grab your hand, grab your husband. You gasped and sputtered, your lungs taking in as much air as they could, panting and wheezing, coughing up salt.

Rose was speechless at the sight of you, how you made it, somehow made it with Kylo. He was there, he was in your arms, you had found him. Against all odds, you had found him. You dragged his head above the surface and dared him to breathe.

He looked so pale, being cold for so long. But still you looked at him, dragged him up up up the staircases, up up up onto the top deck, you and Rose outrunning water, chasing air.

All seemed hopeful, and then the lights snapped out, and everyone around you stopped and screamed, and you heard the awful horrible creaking groan of steel splitting beneath you, voices with hands clasped, palms outstretched to lifeboats who would not dare come closer.

Save us.

Save us.

Save us.

                                                          -------------

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[stereostevie]

LaKeith Stanfield Settles Into His Toughest Role Yet: Himself

As he heads towards his thirties, the electrifying actor is laying himself bare — and finding a new sense of balance

by Tirhakah Love Feb 12

For nearly a decade, LaKeith Stanfield has used his screen time reveling in the bizarreness of America’s racial consciousness. Whether Atlanta’s quippy street mystic Darius, or the code-switching sardonics of Cassius in Sorry to Bother You, his characters have always seemed to be in on the joke — and in his latest, Judas and the Black Messiah, Stanfield is closer to the secret than ever before.

Shaka King’s film, which chronicles the final days of Black Panther Party Chairman Fred Hampton (Daniel Kaluuya) through the sullen eyes of FBI informant William O’Neal (Stanfield), finds the actor in his darkest, most nuanced rendition of the Black saboteur to date. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do,” the 29-year-old said over a Zoom call last week, “I just really wanted to make sure I was getting it right. But then also not getting it too right, if that makes sense.”

Stanfield has built a name on playing conflicted characters, but a figure with as much baggage as O’Neal — who was forced into his own role while still a teenager — demanded what he calls a “necessary nuance,” one that became, at times, overwhelming. The film set became not just a vision of radical Black politics, but a space for Stanfield to process his own upbringing in order to be a more “realized, holistic” person. LEVEL spoke with the actor about how playing O’Neal helped illuminate his path toward a healthier decade that included both therapy and meditation, heading into his thirties.

LEVEL: Judas and the Black Messiah was supposed to drop in August, but 2020 had other plans. How does it feel to know it’s coming out?

LaKeith Stanfield: I’m excited. I want people to learn about Chairman Fred Hampton’s story. It’s something that’s not spoken about enough. Everything has been such a question mark with this pandemic — not knowing how it was going to come out, or whether it would come out, period. So here we are with Black History Month, this story of Chairman Fred Hampton, and everybody gets to experience this in the most honest way we could put it in. I’m really happy. I’m going to host a screening at my house and just invite everybody… who’s been tested. [Laughs]

By my count, this is the second role that Daniel swiped from under your nose. Didn’t he get you for Get Out, too?

That’s right. You know what, for Get Out I auditioned for like every role. I came in and I read with Jordan Peele. And then I read for another — I think it was Rel’s role — and ended up eventually reading for my role. Damn, I forgot all about that.

How can we keep being friends with a dude who just steals roles from you, bro?

Nah, it’s all good. [Laughs] Ultimately, those decisions are made by people who have a better understanding about casting and their relation to the story than I do. If they’d asked me to play a hat in this movie, I would’ve done it.

It doesn’t seem like a Hollywood thing to do at all.

Hollywood is not always behind things like this. It took years to get it to the point where we could actually make it. These are stories people are yearning for. We have to always prove that time and time again, unfortunately, but it is what it is. We show and prove these kinds of stories are human stories. They’re specific to the Black experience, but it’s global. We hope that we can get these studios to understand that more and more.

How did you relate to [William O’Neal’s] isolation and paranoia he lived with? How did you tap into that?

I didn’t see him as someone I could connect to, so we started to design the character from the inside out. The thing is, we don’t have any information about O’Neal outside of his Eyes on the Prize interview, a couple of court transcripts, and other eyewitness accounts. We could create him from scratch and give him different dimensions. I wanted to introduce how he might be a thrill-seeker. He might get fun out of creating imbalance. He steals cars — he wasn’t very afraid to put himself in a line of fire — but he was also a person who eventually felt guilty about what he did. In the full-length version of his Eyes on the Prize interview, he says at one point, “I felt bad about the things I did, but I had to continue to play the role.” He contradicts that later by saying, “I’ll let history speak for me.” Clearly this guy has an internal struggle that we missed.

Wearing all these different masks.

In the scene where I had to poison him, a lot of it didn’t end up making it to the final cut, but we shot [me mixing it in] Kool-Aid, and I had to go through all those motions. With somebody like Daniel, who I just respect as a human and an artist, as Fred Hampton, it felt like I was actually poisoning Chairman Fred Hampton. One thing [co-star] Dominique Fishback mentioned to me is that your body doesn’t always differentiate the experience from your imagination. So sometimes your body thinks that’s real, everything you’re putting it through. It’s no wonder I’ve been feeling so stressed out and having panic attacks. I realized going forward before I step into something like that again, maybe have a therapist. [Laughs]

“There’s a dynamic between celebrity and the common man that Covid-19 has really lifted the veil on. We all gotta wear our masks or we suffer the same fate. You’re not special.”

For Black people playing an op it’s different. There’s real pressure. Especially for a character who’s never been portrayed.

That’s how I felt when I first figured out I found out who he was. But you don’t go into something like this not knowing that’s going to be the case. I hope I was able to portray him in a way that made people see themselves in the character. What decisions would you have made? Were you trying to go to jail for five to 10 years? Would you try to stay out? What does that mean? Those are the more important questions. Let’s say there’s a million people in the world: two of them are Fred Hamptons; the rest are William O’Neal. I want to challenge people to think about the ways they might be O’Neal-esque. And maybe through seeing this, you might distance yourself from some of those things.

If the pandemic has revealed anything, it’s the disconnect between the celebrity class and everyone else. People like Hampton and [Bobby] Seale are trying to do cultural work. We’re seeing that there’s disconnects here. How does a film like this impact your view of celebrity?

These roles are metaphors for so many things. Chairman Fred Hampton as a metaphor for socialism, selflessness, and O’Neal could be argued to be a metaphor for capitalism and selfishness, or perceived celebrity ego. There’s a dynamic between celebrity and the common man that exists, which Covid-19 has really lifted the veil on to a significant degree because we all sit in here on Zoom, right? [Laughs] We all gotta wear our masks or we suffer the same fate. You’re not special. This made everybody have to sit down and confront that idea.

[Laughs] Right.

One could argue that the fact that Fred Hampton died at a young age is justification as to why you shouldn’t try and put things outside yourself for the greater good, because it ends up being helpless and hopeless. I don’t agree with that. I think that Chairman Fred Hampton’s legacy lives on, like he said, “you can kill a revolutionary, but you can’t kill a revolution.” I remember being in that scene where Daniel was giving a speech, and I’m thinking, the things that Chairman Fred did all those years ago, today we are here experiencing this moment collectively because of him. While I’m doing this, I’m looking into the audience, seeing Afros, seeing Black people, seeing the beauty and the confidence and love, I don’t really even see that these days. So he zapped me back into a time where this is what people were on. We gotta find that in ourselves again and unlock it

You have a great way of playing chaos agents. Whether it’s a muted performance in Atlanta or muted in a different way in Uncut Gems, where your character was always on the fucking edge. Why do those roles as subversive figures speak to you?

I haven’t really thought about it but I know one thing’s for sure: I tend to lean toward characters who have internal dialogue or struggle. I like trying to find some groundedness and truth in the in-between of two extremes. These characters appeal to me on a subconscious level because that’s how I am. I like taking things to crazy extremes and then trying to find some kind of balance in that. I’m also attracted to characters being able to show the mirror to you and have you see something that activates something in you. Those characters that have you see yourself through absurdity.

You mentioned earlier how young these dudes were. Fred Hampton was 21 years old when he was killed. If he made 24, 25, I’m wondering how much more he could have gotten done. Being Black, we make it to 25, it’s a thing. You’re now about to make it to 30. How’s it hitting you? Do you think about age at all like that?

Not really. Not really, but to some extent, this is a landmark moment for me. I feel like I’m just starting to really get my shit together, like personally. And be the better version of myself for myself. I just started therapy just this year.

Yo, congrats.

Thanks man. Going into my thirties, I plan to continue to do it. It’s been helpful for me to unpack a lot of stuff. I’ve been through a lot of stuff, there’s a lot of things I just didn’t confront. Those things mount; you act out in different ways and they can become harmful to you. So I just said this year, I’m going to make the choice to try and be better. Like I was always throwing off therapy. I never wanted to try it. I was like, whatever. It was just something that’s bad in my family. Growing up, everyone’s like, “therapy, what the fuck are talking about?”

So I wanna continue working on that — working on myself and finding a better sense of balance, and by virtue of doing that, unlock more potential in my heart. And I’ll be able to express in a more realized, whole holistic way. Those are my ambitions moving forward.

There’s always a moment where you just know that you need it. That, there are strategies you just don’t have that you need to build to be a person. Was there a moment for you where it’s like, fuck I really gotta go to therapy. I really gotta get some help?

I wake up every day and I have the same thought: Fuck, I gotta go to therapy.

[Laughter]

I was kind of raised like a wolf. I didn’t have parents or people who were guiding me or told me anything. So I had to figure out everything on my own — try on masks and faces and hats and wigs — and try to figure out what my place is in the world. For a long time, I didn’t realize I was stunted because of that. Not having that at home, and at an early age being traumatized by things I was seeing. Just now, I’m starting to really find the tools to help me pull that young self out of that abyss. It took me a while to even realize there was a problem because I was like, “Oh, you guys are crazy. I’m not crazy.”

Were you shopping for therapists during the pandemic?

It’s all on Zoom now. I’ve found this really cool therapist. It’s great and perfect for me right now. Hopefully it continues to be the case. It’s helped me a lot. After doing press yesterday, I had another session and it was amazing. It helps you unlock things about yourself. It’s not even necessarily about the person that you’re doing therapy with, but like you said, perspectives and strategies and tools that you didn’t have access to before.

Especially in the work you do, it’s important to extricate yourself — that period of like, okay, I gotta get out of this. How have you come back to yourself in this period of time?

It’s been meditation. The one good thing about this pandemic is being able to sit at home by yourself and deal with yourself and just your inner voice. And even though that’s annoying as hell, beautiful clarity comes out of it. People would be surprised how many answers they can give themselves just by listening to themselves and not distracting yourself with so many things like social media or movies and stuff. Now, it isn’t easy, especially once you become hooked into a pattern, but it’s really worth it.

That’s been beautiful for me just to take those moments. It’s important and it’s taught me a lot about myself. And that’s kinda what pushes you. Now that you understand and recognize some of the issues that you want to make better about yourself, you can plan on ways to do that. Whether it means therapy or yoga, which I also started doing.

There’s a scene in the film that feels like the Last Supper, and it’s just gut-wrenching. That sense of dread is so hard to tap into, but it also feels of a piece with what so many of us have been going through — knowing that people are losing their lives, either from our government or from a virus, and living with that same dread.

It’s a real thing. I went to the hospital recently on some health stuff. When I was in there, there were a bunch of Covid-19 patients being moved about. Being in a hospital is pretty scary right now. People screaming and literally dying around you. There’s an overall energy. Like this feeling of loss permeating in the world today.

Before we started this movie, my best friend who I grew up with got killed by his brother. So I was carrying that with me the whole time. One thing that made those moments real for me is that I know what it feels like to lose somebody abruptly, violently. When we filmed me having to poison Fred Hampton, it was a really tough day — I was thinking about my own brother, just in a whole different place all day. On set crying. That sense of loss, knowing the violence of all of that, really informed everything for me. There was no distinction between reality and what I was experiencing in the moment. Most of the takes in that scene, I was actually bawling. I had to tone it back.

The worlds are just overlapping with one another. That’s fucking wild.

I hope having gone through all that, somebody watching it can be moved or touched. Maybe it helps put emphasis on Fred Hampton and why it’s so valuable to protect people like him.

As someone who lost someone close recently, some days it feels like your worlds are collapsing on one another. I just lost my dad this past summer. It’s weird to even talk about, but the fact that you have to just carry on, with your friend’s death sitting in the back of your head is…wild.

With movies, you never know if we’re doing the right take, or even if it’s ever going to be seen by anyone. Especially with something like this, you never really know. I’m so grateful for everybody putting their best foot forward. I want everybody to see it. I really want Black people to see it, especially Black kids in Chicago. I want them to see someone who really put things outside of themselves and put something first and gave in love. I just hope that somebody sees it and it touches them. It makes them think about something a little differently. That’d be dope.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.

#black history #black men #black panther party #black panthers #black people #bobby seale #chicago #daniel kaluuya #fbi #film #fred hampton #interview #lakeith stanfield #shaka king #usa

[plaidamoosette]

Call Me By My Name

RK900 x Reader

Part I | Part II | Part III

A/N: So, thank you for bearing with me on things. Life is... ugh. Any way I was driving home when I thought of this and I just wanted to get it out before it I lost it. Thank you for reading! Remember, feedback is always accepted!

Summary: You are an ecstatic new detective in the Detroit Police Department. It has been three years since the Android revolution, and now that they are a freed people, they are making decisions for themselves and their careers. One of these Androids is now your partner. The newest RK model, the RK900. He’s cold, distant, calculating... and oddly alluring. And with your first case on the line, you have to learn how to cope with a partner that holds you at arm’s length while fulfilling a desire that has been burning in your belly since you were a child. Revenge.

Words: 3180

–– October 7, 2041 ––

Stepping through the automatic doors, you take in a deep breath, basking in the glow of the moment. Swiveling your head to drink in the view around you, you examine the people milling about in the lobby.

Residents with complaints to file, police officers dragging in a thug here and there, detectives, city councilmen, lawyers... all illuminated in the golden morning glow.

The floor was polished perfectly, creating only a slightly blurred mirror image of the people as they crossed the surface. 

Finally, you follow the foot traffic to the front desk, fidgeting within your cozy jacket.

The android at the front desk smiles at you, her LED blinking yellow as she looks at you. A real name-tag was pinned to her blouse, and she was wearing normal clothes. The only way to identify her as an Android, was the LED, swirling around on her temple.

“Welcome to the Detroit Central Police Station. How may I help you?” Her perfect teeth glint in the bright orange light that filters through the windows, the rising sun almost setting the room ablaze.

“Yes, um, my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I’m looking for Captain Fowler. I’m a new detective?” Why did you say that as a question? You clench your sweaty hands, tucking them into the pockets of your coat.

“Of course miss. He’s expecting you. He’s through the gates, down the hall, and straight through the precinct. His office is in the back, through the large glass doors.” She gestures with her hands, arm sweeping out to guide you in the right direction.

“Thank you,” you return her smile, following her orders.

It has been three years since the revolution of the androids, and things were finally smoothing over. It was October, you’d finally graduated from Wayne State University, and after months of ceaselessly sending your resume to the Captain... he finally responded.

With great anticipation, you walk up the small set of stairs before cracking open the door.

“Captain Fowler, sir, you were expecting me, my name is-” you couldn’t finish as he interrupts you with a hand suspended in the air.

“Believe me kid, I remember who you are. Sit down, I have a lot to cover with you,” the large man scowls, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk. You comply quickly,  removing your jacket and scarf and draping it over the back of your chair before sitting down.

“I have a few more papers for you to sign. Here’s your badge, keep it on you at all times. And this-” he slides a card over to you, “is the ticket for you to take to inventory where you will receive your weapon and other necessities.”

You nod your head, eyes quickly skimming over the papers, searching for any statements that would stand out as a red flag to you. You scribble your signature over the lines, nodding your head as he laid out the rules and regulations, referring multiple times to the Faculty Handbook, before tucking all of the paperwork back into the manilla folder, marked with your name. After thirty minutes, the papers are back on Fowlers desk.

He smacks a hand over the file, retrieving it from you, before rising.

“Now, I’ve got a lot of paperwork to catch up on,” he pulls the door of his office open, poking his large head out. “Anderson! Get in here, I need you for a moment.”

You were silent for a few breaths. You knew exactly who was headed your way. The man who inspired you to pursue this path, who reminded you to stay strong and fight on... Lieutenant Hank Anderson.

The aged man slowly strides into the office, a sour expression on his face. You could see he was biting his tongue from making some remark to the Captain. Probably since there was a guest in the office as well-- you.

“Yes, Captain?” Hank rests into his standing position, resting right next to you. Fowler walks back around to his desk, taking a seat.

“Lieutenant, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She’s the newest detective. Top of her class in the academy, and valedictorian. She also has a bachelors degree in criminal justice and a minor in psychology, and graduated from Wayne State University-- again top of her class... she has a very impressive resume,” Fowler reads over the paper you had faxed to him. There was a stack about an inch thick... all of which were your resume. “So impressive she felt the need to send it over and over again, almost every damn day since she graduated. She fought for this job, Anderson, and as Lieutenant, it’s your job to train her and get her situated with a partner.

“Wait, is she my new partner? What about Connor?” Hank speaks up, his gruff voice sounding slightly distressed. He takes a step towards the desk.

“Now don’t get riled up-- he’s still your partner, she is just going to be shadowing you for the week. She needs to be familiar with the precinct, her duties, her coworkers, and our process.” Fowler defends, his hands rising.

“Unless you have any more questions, then you’re dismissed.”

A heavy breath leaves Hank’s chest, before finally looking down at you. He jerks his head to the left, hands stuffing themselves in his pockets.

“C’mon kid,” he mutters, opening the door and holding it as you quickly gather your things, before following him out the door.

“Wow... c-can I just say that... I am absolutely, and totally honored to meet you- I grew up reading about you in the news and stuff, and I was inspired when you became the youngest Lieutenant in Detroit, and I just wanted to say that I look up to you, and you are an amazing detective, and I can only hope to be as good as you, you’re the reason I found a passion to become a police detective, so thank you-” you couldn’t stop the rambling flow of words spilling from your mouth, but Hank held up a hand.

“I’m gonna just stop you right there kid. Thanks,” Hank coughs, looking down, his cheeks almost appearing pink. “I’m honored, really. So thanks. Nice to meet you.”

He reaches out and you shake his hand eagerly. He chuckles when you release, casually wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Just breath, okay? No need to be nervous. I’ll show you to your desk, and then I’ll give you a tour.” Hank grins, his smile reaching into his heavy gray beard. Your face heats up, and you nod, wiping off your sweaty palms, following him down the rows of desks and detectives.

It took about an hour for Hank to show you around the entirety of the Detroit Central Police Station. You brain felt stretched and exhausted from taking in so much new information, but you were too excited to care.

Everyone seemed very nice, and you were glad to see that the Station had a good handful of Androids in the mix-- free androids, working according to their own desires.

“I see you’ve got some new meat, Anderson,” a voice pops up behind you, and you jump slightly, both you and Hank turning around.

“Oh, it’s you.” Hank grumbles, before looking at the wall. “(Y/N) this is Gavin Reed. Gavin, (Y/N).”

You wondered why Hank sounded so disgusted with Gavin’s name. He seemed nice enough, although he donned what seemed like a permanent mischievous smirk, and a scar across his nose.

“Nice to meet you,” Reed steps forward, swallowing his hand in your own. He then stepped just a little close, leaning towards you, invading your personal space. “I’m sure I’ll get to know you pretty well, eventually.”

“Alright, back off Reed,” Hank’s arm shoots own, pushing the man back, his other hand resting on your shoulder. “We’re not through with her tour, and I’ve got work to do.”

Gavin glares at Hank before taking a second to wink at you, shrugging his shoulders and straightening his jacket, and then walking off towards the break room.

“Gavin is the Station’s designated asshole. Don’t let him get to you. If he becomes too much of a problem, let me know and I’ll make sure to take care of it.” Hank looks down at you, and then jerks his head. “Let’s go get your gun now. Then I’ll show you how to work the terminal.”

So far, the most intimidating thing about the day was working on your terminal. It was a newly updated system, and it took about an hour for you to get the hang of it, but Hank was very helpful in assisting you through the whole process.

But now, your account was filed, and all of your information was in the data base. Now, all you had to do was get to work.

“So... where do I start?” You peer up at the man, and he grins.

“Paperwork. Welcome to the DPD, kid. You’ll be writing reports for the next month,” Hank pats you on the shoulder in sympathy. “There’s a folder in your terminal, it’ll have instructions and a list of your daily tasks. Sorry sweetheart, it won’t last long. You’re fresh meat is all, so Fowler will push all of the boring stuff to you.”

A sigh escapes your lips and you nod solemnly, gazing back down at the computer. “I understand. Thank you, Lieutenant Anderson.”

“Just Hank is fine,” he tips his head to you, before crossing the walkway to his desk, which was only a few spots away from your own.

Gritting your teeth, you find your folder, and quickly scan through it, picking the smallest file to begin a report over it.

–– November 4, 2041 –– As the week passed, you eventually found a rhythm at work, and it quickly became comfortable. It almost began to feel as if you had been there for months already.

Then your second week came, and it was the same tedious thing. And then another week. As the days passed, you were growing restless. There you were, sitting at you desk every damn day while all of the detectives around you were hard at work on their own cases... and you were filing paperwork. Writing and re-writing reports.

You had lost count of how many of Gavin’s reports you had to re-write. He has no idea what a dictionary is, and certainly has no idea that proper punctuation exists.

You easily remembered his break schedule, and made sure to avoid it-- meanwhile, you also took note of the various times in which Hank would decide to show up to work, often times in rumpled clothes and a grouchy disheveled demeanor.

You met Connor on your second day. You almost couldn’t tell he was an Android. He easily adapts to the human behaviors around him, and it seems like this is his natural environment. He is very courteous, and usually takes a few minutes of the morning to check on you and ask you how you are liking the job so far.

He’s always there before you-- probably due to his natural Android punctuality. Regardless, his morning chats helped the day pass faster.

The sweetest part was how he and the Lieutenant interacted with each other. In your eyes, it almost looked like Hank saw Connor as a son. And as different as they obviously are, you could see this nearly invisible thread that tied them together, intertwining their lives.

Hank was helpful and always made sure that your jobs were going smoothly, although you voiced your frustrations, he continuously assured you that it’s all normal.

It wasn’t until almost a whole month passed that you got fed up with being put to such work. Maybe once a week, sure. But not every day, for a month.

With a fire in your heart, you set your shoulders in determination, and knocked on the glass outside of Fowler’s Office. He looks up from his terminal, before waving for you to enter.

“Sir... I just have to speak my mind. I need to do something real-- not just writing reports. I didn’t go through as much training as I have just so I could write and re-write a thousand reports for cases ranging from muggings to freaking drug busts.” You start, positioning yourself in front of his desk.

“And what exactly did you have in mind?” Fowler folds his fingers, leaning back in his seat.

“I’m not sure... just anything but reports,” gritting your teeth, you hold your ground.

“As it so happens, the detective you replaced-- who retired-- was head of clearing out the cold cases we have. It’s hard work, and it’s not always rewarding... but it would give you something other than reports to work on. Or, you can transfer to another division.”

Biting your lip in contemplation, you look down for a moment, considering the options. You’d heard rumors of how Fowler was an ass, you just never believed anyone could be this much of an ass.

“I’ll take the cold cases.” You sounded dejected and defeated, but it was all you could do. You had to be in this division... you had plans.

“I’m expecting you to live up to the potential I was promised from your records. And, I’m assigning you a partner. It’ll help. And, maybe you’ll make more progress than the last agent.”

“A partner?”

“That’s what I said. He’s an Android, the newest prototype that Cyberlife was in the process of making before they were shut down. Considering how Androids now have rights and are considered alive, they couldn’t just shut him down, so they sent him to us to use him, until he decides otherwise.” Fowler explains.

“But... why me?” You cock your head to the side, pondering the idea.

“Don’t pester me-- you ask too many questions. Just say ‘yes sir’ and then get the hell out, like the others do.” Fowler snaps, and you nod, thanking him and bidding him a good day before stealing away from the glass office.

An android partner? You couldn’t wait to tell Connor that he would soon have a fellow Android in the Station that wasn’t a desk clerk. A spark of join settled in your heart at the thought of working on your first case.

“Hey Connor,” you smile when you spot the Android standing next to your desk, “you would not believe what Fowler just... told me..”

“As I’m sure you are now aware, I am not Connor. Although I do share a strikingly similar face with my predecessor, I am a different model. I am the newest RK unit. An RK900.” The man speaks, and it shocks you for a moment when his striking blue eyes meet yours. He was almost a perfect mirror to Connor... almost.

His hair was much darker, almost black, and his eyes were his most striking feature. A bright blue, instead of like Connor’s sweet brown orbs. He was dresses in a Cyberlife uniform, his unit model and number on the breast of the jacket. The collar reached up to his chin, and he donned a black button-up beneath the jacket, with matching pants.

His face was expressionless, and you were under the impression that he was still stuck in factory mode. Not a deviant, yet anyways.

“Right...um... My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I guess you are my new partner, then?”

“Correct,” his posture remains stiff, hands clasped behind his back. He was a few inches taller than Connor, causing you to crane your neck back just a hair, in order to meet his eyes.

“Do you have a name?” You ask as he takes a seat at his new desk, pressing his hand to the terminal screen.

“I do not. But I am perfectly fine being referred to as RK900. Will this be my desk?” The most intimidating part of him was the fact that he never once broke eye-contact with you, as if he were challenging you, daring you to be the weak one and look down.

“Uh... yes. I’ve been assigned to solving the cold cases, so I guess we should start searching our terminals for them.”

“I can perform the search through the terminal for a case. What would be your preferences.” He didn’t say it like a question, more like a reassurance.

“Uh...” you were having a hard time clearing your head. His eyes flicker up to meet yours again, his hand still on the screen. “Maybe look for an older one?”

RK900 simply nods his head, his gaze drifting off to the side, blinking rapidly. You could see the light of the screen reflecting over him as he flipped through the files.

You suck in a breath, clasping your hands as you waited. You felt like a child, waiting for her parents or something.

“How about a murder, 2019. Downtown Detroit. Corktown to be specific. The victim was a 19-year-old female,” the Android begins. That peaked your interest.

“Go on,” you murmur, listening intently.

“Cause of death, gunshot wound. Her body was found in an alley way right in front of her workplace. There are no known witnesses, the only evidence was on her person, and there are no further leads, but it is the most recent case that involves a murder.” The RK900 unit glances back up from the screen, his eyes meeting yours once more.

“Well, it’s better than writing reports. Where do we start?” You rise from your seat, grabbing your necessities and the coat from the back of your chair. He follows, straightening the stiff-collared Cyberlife uniform jacket.

“I’d say we should start by contacting the parents. The victim’s name was Barbara O’Connell. Her parents are still registered under the same address. I’ve already sent the coordinates to your GPS,” his voice remained the same cool tone, and you stumbled for a second.

“How did you know...,” leaving your sentence hanging, he quickly answers it.

“When I was told who I would be working with, I did as much research about you that was available to me. I traced your license identification and from that, found your insurance and the car registered under it. The masterboard inside of your vehicle had all of the information I needed to connect to the GPS-” he was intent to explain in excruciating detail, step by step, how he found out about you... you quickly stopped him.

“I get the idea.... RK900?” You words hitch at the end as the awkward name passes your lips. “I can’t call you that. It makes you sound like a device. How about... Arkay? Oh, or Nines?”

“Nines?” He ponders the name for a few beats, until his lips quirk at the corners in a small smile. “I like that. I will refer to myself as such from now on.”

You couldn’t help but return the smile, reaching out to shake his hand. He stares at it before complying. “It’s nice to meet you, Nines.”

Like, comment, follow, share... all the fun stuff! There will be more!

#rk900 #detroit become human #dbh rk900 #nines x reader #rk900 x reader #android #android x human #android x reader #dbh #x reader #fanficiton

[itsomgitsgreenblogging]

Pour Over Me: A Critical Role Fanfic

All of the props for this idea goes to the Essek Fanclub Server, where it was discussed that drow TANGO. Which, obviously, of course, leads to me writing a fic where Essek prepares the Mighty Nein for a formal ball. With all of the political intrigue and yearning that comes with that. I know about nothing about the tango, so, just bear with me lol.  

Also Essek isn’t a traitor. I know that because I love him. 

Enjoy!

Read on AO3 

Preview:

"If you wouldn't mind?" Essek asked, offering his hand. Caleb took it after a single moment's hesitation. Without his levitation spell, Caleb was a few inches taller than him. Essek had to look up to meet his gaze, and the way it felt to see his blue eyes glinting at this angle from the lantern-light pulled at something low and deep inside of him. "I'll lead this time, and then next time I'll follow."

“Skysybil,” the Bright Queen called. Essek watched the ancient goblin hobble forward, her large knotted cane tapping in front of her. As always, she appeared tiny in the massive space of the Queen’s Cathedral. She was made somehow smaller by the pulsing light of the beacon. But part of that was most likely by the Bright Queen’s prudent design. If she were not larger than life, what would she be? 

“Yes, my Queen?” 

“Tell me, how do the preparations for the Day of Radiance fair?” the Bright Queen asked thoughtfully. 

"The Clerics of the Luxon have prepared for the Mass and have readied the necessary components to temporarily take down the night, and release the light," Skysybil reported. "The Guilds have, as always, been preparing for the Parade of Lanterns. In terms of the Illumination Ball, the staff of the palace continue their work on schedule. The ballroom itself is almost complete." 

"Good. Essek?" 

"Yes, my Queen?" Essek asked stepping forward from his place and bowing his head in deference to her. 

"Have the Mighty Nein invited to the Illumination Ball. I will place them on the list and have formal invitations drawn up, though I will entrust you to deliver them." 

"Of course, your majesty," Essek said with a nod. "Should they be in need of any formal wear, shall I leave it to them, or should I place it in Royal or Theylss accounts?" 

"Oh, please do supervise those choices and I'll have my finance advisor speak with you on it and give you a budget. I shall not have heroes of the Dynasty appearing in my ballroom in leather halters...again."

There was a rumble of chuckles, and Essek was about to step back into his shadows when another voice rose up from the crowd of courtiers and nobility. 

"We will be inviting the Mighty Nein to the Illumination Ball?" 

One of the other courtiers, an old stuffy fellow from Den Dwendalios asked the question. Escar was his name. A slippery individual, one of the types that Essek felt was best compared to a snake slipping through the cracks of a garden gate. He didn’t know why he was even one of the Bright Queen’s courtiers, though, Essek was sure the other courtiers would have something to say if he was uninvited to meetings. The other nobility liked him for the same reason they liked war, he kept them rich and comfortable. 

"They were instrumental to the returning of our beacon, so we could have a more glorious Day of Radiance," the Bright Queen said, eyeing Escar with a certain displeasure that even Essek felt. The courtier bowed even deeper if it were possible. 

"I meant no disrespect, your majesty. Only that they will not know our customs or our dances. Surely they would feel more comfortable at the festivities with the rest of the city," Escar said, steepling his fingers sounding oh so understanding and so very accommodating. What a joke, Essek thought.  

"They may of course decline the invitation," the Bright Queen said, though of course everyone knew you did not decline an invitation from their queen. "But I believe that it is important to invite them." 

"As my Queen commands, I shall see them fully prepared for the Ball," Essek promised, cutting in to conversation boldly. He leveled a smile at Escar that flashed his teeth. Escar's shoulders tensed, and he refused to look towards Essek. The Bright Queen’s lips quirked up in a small smile. 

"I shall leave the issue in your capable hands," the Bright Queen said, acknowledging Essek once more. 

"Thank you, your majesty," Essek said, and then returned to his spot at her side. 

The rest of the meeting unfolded in a similar fashion as usual. Essek already had been briefed on most of the information but it was always good for a refresher. Movements of the Echo Knights and war efforts lost in the jumble of excited preparation for the Illumination Ball. If people weren't itching to fight a war, they were itching to party. He supposed the urge to galavant about in pretty evening attire and show off was universal, even he wasn't immune to it. He had ordered his own clothing and knew shoes two months ago. 

How the Mighty Nein would respond to it? Essek had no idea. Interacting with them was often like interacting with a barrel of black powder with a candle in your hand and an oil lamp spilled on the floor. You never knew what would be the thing to set them off. 

The thought was on his mind as he was caught by a troop of marauding courtiers after the meeting. Escar was leading the bunch, a characteristic scowl upon his face. They all stopped as he did, like a flock of perturbed birds awaiting the nearest excuse to take off into flight.  

"Lord Shadowhand," Escar said, voice dripping with saccharin concern. "We cannot be seriously considering allowing a band of mercenaries to join us on such a momentous occasion?" 

"Our Queen is the one who has decided. I know that you are not questioning her judgement," Essek asked, eyebrow raised, looking down at him from where he floated. 

"Many of us are concerned that...personal attachments are getting in the way of clear-headed decision making," Escar said with his conniving sneer, motioning to the six or so nobles behind him.. "You are powerful and talented, but also young Shadowhand. It would be best for you not to take on more than you can handle." 

"Thank you kindly for your consideration," Essek said with his best smile. "But I shall endeavor to do all my Queen commands me, for if she believed I am up to the challenge then certainly I am. That is why she chose me over your daughter, after all." 

Escar's face when a delightful shade of maroon, his ears perked up at the challenge like an angry moorbounder sensing a challenge. 

"You…!" 

"Essek," Essek heard his Denmother call to him. The nobility froze. Escar’s face drained of the extraordinary color of his anger as he saw Lady Theylss in all of her glory. All of them bowed to her, and she smiled pleasantly. Essek, seeing an out when it was offered, smiled back at her. 

"Forgive me, gentleman, I will have to take my leave," Essek said, bowing his head and then floating off to meet his Denmother. He offered his arm to her, and she took it. Even floating, she was still a whisper taller than he was.

"I believe I am owed some gratitude," his Denmother said, giving the group of courtiers a lovely smile before they began to walk the round about the courtyard. 

"Thank you, Mother," Essek said. "You did truly save me back there." 

"Hardly worth your time," his Denmother stated flippantly, watching servants who immediately paused in their work to bow or curtsy before her. Essek resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

"Of that I'm not so sure," Essek sighed unable to help the tiredness that crept into his voice. He realized his mistake a moment too late. 

"You are sure," his Denmother said, voice cold, her fingers like cold iron upon his arm. "You have no room to be anything else. You are a Theylss, and a Theylss never bows to anyone. It would do you well to remember that simple lesson." 

"Yes, of course," Essek said automatically, looking forward with his chin high. Because she was right of course. He was Essek Theylss and whoever Essek was had to be perfect. There was no room for error. He would accomplish everything because of course he was good enough to. He had to. He had no other choice. 

"And you will of course show those no good upstarts what you are capable of," she stated, patting his arm in the charade of warmth, breaking into his thoughts as if she had placed them there. "If you need assistance I can always request your sister to come and help you."

Her tone was so sweet and cloying he was almost surprised her teeth didn't rot from her head. If you can't do it, we'll find someone who can, was the words carried beneath her sigh. If you aren't capable of doing this, you are worthless to me, is what she didn't say but Essek heard echoing in his ears. It had scared him, when he was young. But now, it was simply an inevitability. 

"As always, I appreciate your thoughtfulness. But I believe it will be wholly unnecessary, I am capable of such a small task." 

"Very well," she said simply, putting the issue to rest. 

Essek, unfortunately, wasn't so sure. 

----

Arriving at the Xhorhaus was an exercise in caution most days. Essek simply never knew what to expect when he arrived at their front doorstep.  However, he wasn't expecting to nearly get run over by Fjord and Jester tumbling out of the door and spilling onto the cobblestone road. Essek stepped out of the way just in time, and flashed an apologetic look to the neighbors. As soon as they saw the chaos, the family quickly disappeared inside their home. 

"Essek!" Jester gasped, sounding oh so delighted to see him. She waved her arms flailing about a green slime like substance. "We made sliiiiiime!" 

"And Nott got it all over me!" Fjord grumbled indignantly, picking at his shirt unhappily. "This is almost as bad as the centipolt!"

"What is a centipolt?" Essek asked curiously. 

"A thing that shoot centipedes real far," Jester said in her sing-songy tone, miming the action like a slingshot. "A kobold we knew invented it!" 

"Did we really know him if he died thirty minutes later?" Fjord asked pensively.  

"We met him in his prime!" 

"Sure," Fjord said, not sounding convinced. He shook that off quickly. "Anyways, what are you doing here Essek? I'm assuming you aren't here for slime?" 

"That I am not," Essek said, waving his hands in the somatic gesture of prestidigitation. With both Fjord and Jester now unslimed, he folded his hands before him. "I am here to discuss something of equal importance however. If you are all here, I would like a bit of your time." 

"Of course!" Jester trilled, before she opened the door. Essek followed them both inside. 

The house itself was a bit of a chaotic mess. But more in the way of how a place felt after coming back from a trip. Things were stacked haphazardly, hanging from any corner, half opened satchels were on the floor as well as a few splotches of the aforementioned slime. This was of course punctuated by the chiming of the bells by the door in a loud clanging noise. But it seemed more lived in every time he came to the home, and that filled him with a strange emotion that he couldn’t name. 

"Essek is here!" Fjord called. 

"Hello!" Caduceus said in his usual deep congenial voice. He was sitting next to Yasha with a mug in hand, who was flipping through a book. Though she didn't smile, her expression softened. Neither of them were slimed as it were, but looked oddly at ease despite the chaos around. 

"Essek is here?" Beau asked, popping her head in from a different room. Currently she was toweling her hair, probably recovering from the slime incident. “Hey Essek. Caleb, Nott, get your asses up here!” 

Nott and Caleb appeared next. Nott seemed generally unhappy as she batted her wet hair away with clawed fingers. Caleb on the other hand looked refreshed, a warm. His skin having taken on an attractive pink hue from the heat of their bath, his hair a darker shade. Essek forced himself to tear his gaze away from the curve of his neck, the way a stray droplet of water traced its way to his collarbone. He certainly did not think of how his skin would smell, or how wonderful it would be to brush his fingers through his hair.  

“Good day,” Essek said with a nod of his head. In the pocket of his sleeve he produced the invitations and held them out to Jester, who was closest to him. With a certain level of flare and a twirl she distributed them to the Nein before cooing over her own. “I will not take too much of your time. I am here today to officially invite you all to the Illumination Ball, which will take place during the Day of Radiance two weeks and three days from now.” 

“A ball?” Jester asked, delighted. She grabbed Caleb by the hands and began to spin with him before skipping one or two steps. “With dancing and socializing and pretty dresses!”

“Yes, that’s usually what a ball means,” Caleb said, with an endeared smile as he shook his head as if to relieve his dizziness. The motion was endearing, just as how almost everything he did was endearing. Or unfairly attractive. But it didn’t affect Essek obviously. 

“That sounds so nice,” Caduceus hummed. 

“Is there fighting at these kinds of events?” Yasha asked, and though Essek might have thought she was being sarcastic, her quiet inquisitive tone showed otherwise. 

“No, but there’ll probably be fucking,” Nott pointed out. 

“What the fuck?” Fjord asked, looking flustered. 

“People dress up nicely to show off and get laid, duh!” 

“All that aside why the fuck would they invite us to a fancy ball?” Beauregard asked, squinting at the invitation like it may bite her. 

“As heroes of the Dynasty, and who returned the beacon that we celebrate on this day, the Bright Queen has personally requested your presence,” Essek explained, clasping his hands behind him. “I have also been tasked with ensuring your preparation for this event, in terms of clothing and etiquette.”  

“Wait, first, what’s the Day of Radiance?” Caduceus asked curiously. 

“I believe I mentioned before that on occasion, the sun is allowed to shine in Rosohna? The Day of Radiance is a religious festival that marks one such occasion,” Essek explained. “It is an extremely festive time for us, there is a parade and general frivolity in the streets during the daylight. The Cathedral of the Bright Queen hosts the Illumination Ball after sunset.” 

“That sounds wonderful,” Caduceus said. 

“What etiquette would we have to acquire for this event?” Caleb asked worriedly. 

“Everyone who attends the Illumination Ball is expected to participate in the Opening Dance,” Essek said. “Though I am unsure of if any among you have had formal dance training?” 

“I have! My Mama had tutors teach me,” Jester said, raising her hand excitedly. 

“I have also had some dance training...though it was a long time ago,” Caleb admitted, and Essek filed that piece of information away for later. It would benefit spies to be able to assimilate into events with nobility. He would have to have a shadow of his look up more information on this. 

“Caleb and I danced a waltz once!” Jester said excitedly. “He was really drunk, but he was good at it!” 

“I am unfamiliar with that kind of dance,” Essek said, his intellectual curiosity getting the better of him. “Is it from the Empire?” 

“Yes,” Caleb answered. “It’s an old Zemnian form of dance.” 

“Well, do keep in mind that it may be different then our dancing. You all will only have to learn the steps of the opening dance, after all. Besides that, a rush order has already been placed with the palace tailor. You will all have to go and get measured.” 

“That’s awfully generous of you,” Fjord noted. 

“Her Majesty simply wishes for you to join in the celebration, She shall take care of everything else,” Essek said with his usual placid smile. 

“Wait...are you going to be teaching us the opening dance?” Caduceus asked. 

“That was what Her Majesty intended.” 

“This will be so fun!” Jester said, nearly hopping with excitement. 

Or a disaster, Essek thought but didn’t say. 

----

The day after the invitations were delivered were full of activity. The Mighty Nein went to the court tailor and by that he meant they tortured the court tailor in the way that only the Mighty Nein knew how. By the end of the appointment when he went to collect them, his room had been rearranged, some important spools of thread stolen, and the tailor had been in tears. He had told Essek, with tears in his eyes, how he brave he was to deal with them. Essek hadn’t asked what had happened. Though at some point he would be certain to. Not that he was really sure he wanted to know the answer to his questions. 

The Mighty Nein had all appeared in the Cathedral of the Bright Queen at the appointed time. The servants had taken a break for this hour, giving them enough space in the ballroom to practice with so many people. Essek was thankful to the Luxon for the privacy...since he had know idea what he would be working with. And considering the sometimes utterly chaotic actions the Mighty Nein took, it was probably better that he took on the risk alone. 

“In the tango there are two distinct parts, the leader and the follower. It is extremely important that though the follower may feel the urge to step into the lead, that they allow the leader to fulfill their role,” Essek explained, unhooking his mantle from his shoulders. He was startled when Nott screamed as he settled it off on a chair. "What?"

"You took off your clothes!" Nott screeched. 

"I'm still wearing clothes," Essek said deadpanned, motioning to his high-neck slate-grey tunic and black pants. In fact he had taken care to choose clothing that would preserve his sense of modesty. Essek didn’t like showing skin for a variety of reasons. There was nothing wrong with showing skin, of course. If anything he knew he was handsome and desirable and he could use his good looks to his advantage, and he had done so in his youth. But Essek also knew better than most that the roles one played were often helped by one’s appearance. If he appeared untouchable, then he was untouchable. It was as easy as that. 

"I thought the mantle was like a part of your skin, or that you had really big shoulders," Nott admitted before suddenly pivoting to look at him again. "But wait! Aren't you shorter than usual?" 

"Using my levitation magic would defeat the purpose of this exercise," Essek explained, pulling his gloves more firmly on. "Now? If you don't mind?"

Nott continued to look at him suspiciously as he took his spot in the center of the room. He resisted the urge to sigh or chafe under the sensation of everyone staring at him, but especially Caleb. He could nearly feel his eyes digging into the back of his neck, causing his skin to tingle in a somewhat unpleasant manner. He was so self aware at that moment that he wished he could disappear into the shadows, back under his mantle, anywhere but out in the open feeling so exposed. But there were things more important than his dignity, the Bright Queen's orders being one of them. 

"I will teach you all the leading and following steps to the dance. In total there are eight steps…" 

Essek took them all through the steps multiple times. To his surprise, Beau and Nott both caught on to the rhythm quickly, as did Caleb who obviously did have some dancing training under his belt. Jester, though she got the steps, seemed determined to add extra spins any place she could. Fjord was as stiff as a board, despite Beau attempting to help him. Caduceus would get the steps and then trip over his long legs, where as Yasha seemingly had no sense of rhythm but was happy to follow along with Jester in extra spins. 

"Very good," Essek said, noting this was probably the best they would do for today and endeavoring to keep going. "I believe it's time to partner up. I will demonstrate first, if someone is--"

Suddenly Beau gave Caleb's back a hard whack and forced him forward. Caleb began to cough, and looked back at Beau with an inscrutable expression. After a moment he raised his hand sheepishly. The rest of the Mighty Nein shared a look Essek didn't understand. 

"If you wouldn't mind?" Essek asked, offering his hand. Caleb took it after a single moment's hesitation. Without his levitation spell, Caleb was a few inches taller than him. Essek had to look up to meet his gaze, and the way it felt to see his blue eyes glinting at this angle from the lantern-light pulled at something low and deep inside of him. "I'll lead this time, and then next time I'll follow." 

"Ja--yes," Caleb stuttered, his fingers curled upon his hand. Even through his glove, Essek could feel the warmth branding him, making him light headed. But he wasn't affected, he told himself firmly. Obviously. This was just a dance, a formality, nothing more or less. 

"Very well," Essek said, schooling his tone into something polite and calm and acceptable. "First, place your other hand on the back of my shoulder. My hand is going to go on the small of your back."

Caleb nodded a tiny jerky nod. And then Essek placed his hand upon the small of Caleb's back, leaning him back,  pressing them chest to chest, Essek’s face finding the hollow of his neck and a breath’s space from his cheek. Immediately Caleb's face went a delicious shade of red, and Essek watched it crawl from his cheeks to the tips of his ears and down his neck. He wondered if all humans had such a delightful and attractive affliction. 

"You're close," Caleb gasped, sounding like he was choking on his own tongue. 

"Of course, this is the proper position," Essek explained, grateful for all of his years of court training, his Denmother's critical glares, and the Bright Queen's company because he didn't tremble. He didn't stutter or tremble. All of this was in spite of the fact that the only thing he desired was to feel Caleb's body poured over him like this for the rest of eternity. He was so warm that he could feel it beneath all of his layers, in fact, they may as well have been chest to chest...skin to skin. And that line of thought was just enough to make Essek dizzy, to wish he could lean forward and kiss--

"Is this meant to be a sexy dance?" Jester asked, sounding delighted. It broke Essek out of his strange revelry. 

"If by sexy you mean passionate and elegant, then yes," Essek said. Essek caught Caleb's gaze, felt his composure falter for a moment because had he always looked so lovely in the light? With the way loose strands of hair framed his face? It truly wasn’t fair. But no...no. He was in control. "Let us begin then." 

Essek took them through the first round of steps, but where Caleb before had been precise and had been doing well with the rhythm and the sway of the slow-slow-quick-quick-slow. However, now it was as if Essek was dancing with a creature made of iron. In fact, he could almost feel Caleb creaking in his arms with the tension. Was it so uncomfortable to dance with him? Essek thought. Or...perhaps? But no, he couldn’t think such traitorous thoughts. Not when Caleb was in his arms. 

He had the others pair up after first demonstrating the lead. Nott and Jester did a rather impressively exuberant performance, ending with a flourish of Jester nearly jettisoning Nott up and catching her as they both laughed maniacally. Fjord and Beau both snickered as the danced, before Fjord haphazardly flung Beau into Yasha’s arms. Immediately both women flushed, and began doing the most innocent and haltingly sweet tango Essek had ever witnessed. Fjord and Caduceus finished the pairings, Fjord doing his best to help correct Caduceus’ steps, while Caduceus smiled warmly at Fjord.

Essek however, after a short break, took up dancing with Caleb yet again. This time though, with the others in the Mighty Nein busy, he felt oddly assured of himself. He squeezed Caleb’s hand to catch his attention as they continued their dance. 

“Would it make you more comfortable to switch? I shall follow and you can lead?”

“Um...uh, ja, whatever you would like,” Caleb said, before Essek moved his arm to his lower back. Essek arched it, and pressed close, because this was what you did when you tangoed and for no other selfish reason. He was rewarded with an intake of breath that felt like a victory. 

“I don’t bite,” Essek told him as they quick turned. “Relax, Widogast.” 

“I just...this is very different than the kind of dancing I am used to,” Caleb admitted with a shy smile, and to his credit Essek could feel him attempt to unwind some of his tension. “Much more...intimate?” 

“Isn’t that what dancing is supposed to be?” Essek asked, face close enough that they could share these secrets and he could smell wood-fire on Caleb’s skin. If he just tipped his head up so slightly…

He waited for the pause in the dragging of Caleb’s leg, before with a flourish he brushed his leg up against Caleb’s. 

“Surely those of the Empire must know that,” Essek said, his heels clicking back into place. “Otherwise it simply can’t compare.” 

“No, it can’t,” Caleb said, voice low and hushed and for the first time, he led them into a turn that felt natural and confident. 

Essek had the acute feeling he wasn’t talking about dancing. 

Essek was nearly tingling with the touch throughout the rest of his day. Through the daily report meetings, and his assignments with the Shadows, and even in his personal daily audience with the Bright Queen herself. It hadn’t gone away by the time he returned to his home. But when he walked to his front door, he immediately knew that something was different and it chilled that wonderful-lovely feeling and stilled it beneath his skin. The windows were just too bright, there was the shadow of too much activity. Gritting his teeth, he opened the door, his hand up and prepared to cast. 

His servant Amald immediately rushed to the door looking breathless and harried as he managed to stutter out, “my lord, good evening!” 

“What is happening?” Essek demanded, turning the corner to his living room. He immediately saw her. The snow-white-skinned tiefling continued to lie down upon his chaise, dressed in a violet velvet gown that clung to everything, her fur stole arranged over her shoulders. Upon his table there were two wine glasses, a lit candle, and an opened bottle of his wine chilling in ice. 

“Essek, my dearest, don’t look so dour,” she said, holding out her hand. One of his other servants, Hadise quickly placed a tray of refreshments down, giving Essek a desperate look before quickly scurrying back with Amald. “Finally! Come, say hello to your favorite sister. I hope you don’t mind that I broke into your good vintages.” 

“Adore,” Essek sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Haven’t you anything better to do than to torture my servants and burst into my house without invitation?” 

“You are too lenient on them,” Adore said sitting up, tapping claws against the wine glass as she set it down. “Besides, is this how you treat me? I came all this way to see you.” 

“You came here to attend the Illumination Ball,” Essek scoffed before looking around. “Where’s your husband?” 

“Oh, he’s sleeping off the trip at home,” Adore said, standing up. She inspected the mantle of the fireplace, admired his crystal roses and spun his preserved world globe. “I wanted to see you, and this was the only time I could think to catch you. When these kinds of events come up, you are normally holed up somewhere. Remember when Uralin had to go and collect you for your own personal address before the counsel?” 

“How could I forget,” Essek said coldly. “He broke my favorite writing desk.” 

“Our eldest brother forgets his own strength,” Adore laughed breezily, as she paused before the mirror and inspected her appearance. Her white-gold hair was pulled back into a slick chignon that was meant to emphasize her decorated horns, there wasn’t a hair out of place though she appeared to brush at it. “He was relatively new to the minotaur body at that point. But that’s besides the point, can you imagine my surprise when I heard that not only are you not hiding in some musty dusty corner somewhere, but that you actively preparing the Heroes of the Dynasty for the event? I just had to know more.” 

“What is there to know? I’m sure you have coaxed the words out of every passerby since coming to the capitol.” 

“I do sing a very convincing song,” she said with a coquettish grin. “Don’t I, Essek?” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Essek pointed out coldly. 

“Yes, yes. Immune to my charms, I know. You have your particular tastes.” 

“Tell me, really, what are you here for?” Essek asked her as he sat down. He filled his own glass with his wine, swirling it carefully. “We both know that these niceties do not suit you, and I assume you are not here to interrogate me about my sex life.”

“I think most would say the contrary for a variety of reasons, though, niceties are what you do best,” Adore pointed out, taking her seat and leaning against her hand as her elbow balanced upon the armrest. “And though your sex life  is very interesting I am sure, I won’t lie to you and say I am here for that. Mother told me to keep my eye on you. She is afraid that you are losing your edge.” 

“I promise you that no such thing has occurred,” Essek said with his most pleasant and agreeable smile. “Mother simply worries about me too much. Please, let her know that her concern is appreciated but unnecessary.” 

“I am sure it is,” Adore said with a sip, looking as if they were both sharing a private inside joke. “We both know very well that Mother usually frets over nothing. She has always had a soft spot for you, ever since you were adopted into our family. I have complete and utter faith in your abilities, Essek. I know that you are perfectly capable of separating personal feelings from your work.” 

“Of course,” Essek said, unaffected by her usual jabs. 

“Then you also won’t mind that Mother requested that I assist you, and that I intend to do that.” 

Essek felt his fingers twitch and tighten their grip upon his glass. 

“Though I appreciate the thought, it is wholly unnecessary as I told Mother. I am sure that you have plenty you wish to do while in the city--” 

“Oh I do, but I am also the head of the Musedel College of the Bardic Arts, if I didn’t assist you, what would that say about me? Besides, I also wish to meet this fabled Mighty Nien that you seem so determined to hog to yourself,” Adore asked with the mockery of a playful smile, placing down her empty glass. Essek stood quickly, wincing at the pain in his back as he did. Amald quickly came into the room with her coat. She put it on, before looking back at Essek with a challenge in her golden eyes. “I shall have one of my servants come to gather the details in the morning. Unless there is a problem?”

“No problem, I am thankful for your thoughtfulness,” Essek said, as she leaned close to him and studied his expression. She smoothed his cloak, in a mockery of gentle concern. 

“Are you worried, perhaps? Don’t worry, Essek. I won’t steal any of your toys from you,” she promised with an indulgent smirk. “Unless they look particularly delicious, that is. I know you won’t mind.” 

“I am sure they will appreciate the expert touch you will bring to their education,” Essek said, his smile tasting sour upon his face. “Goodnight, sister.” 

With a click of her heels, the swish of her skirt, and the scent of jasmine she left his house. Essek stood there, gritting his teeth, trying to contain the wash of frustration that crashed into him like a wave. After a few moments of breathing, he managed to get it all under control. 

“Lord of Light give me strength,” Essek prayed, looking up at the ceiling, before blowing out the candle. 

#critical role #critical role fanfic #shadowgast #essek theylss #caleb widogast #the mighty nein

[imnotdoneyet-forreal]

Deals with the Devil- 11

Author: Amanda Preston

Summary: A need to fill a void and an encounter to start something new, Elijah and Katya never knew that a simple one night stand would wind up into a love affair filled with family drama and side deals gone wrong.

Deals with the Devil Masterlist        

        “Where’s the fire and how do I put it out?” Marcel greets as he enters the conference room. He was dressed as handsomely as ever and caught a few admiring looks from a few editors as he walked by the cubicles.         

       Katya couldn’t help but laugh at him having grown accustomed to his dramatic entrances and the lingering stares in his wake. 

        “I really need to destroy that knight-in-shining-armor mentality you have when it comes to me,” Katya responds. “I think it’s going to your head.” 

        Marcel just shrugs as he settles down into his seat. 

        “Where’s D?” he asks as he looks around the vacant room. “Thought she’ll be here.” 

        “She’s getting her sketchbook,” Katya answers. “I told her she’ll need it.” 

        “You’re finally getting her off the bench,” Marcel notes with a grin. “That’s good.” 

        “The girl deserves it,” Katya tells him. “Plan on hiring her the moment she graduates.” 

        The conversation comes to stop as Davina enters the conference with her tablet and sketchpad. The excitement of the unknown task ahead very evident on her face. 

        “Ok let’s get started,” Katya states as Davina takes the seat next to Marcel. “I’ve gathered all of you here today because Vikings Co. has decided to dump a very big and important project on MoonStone: Online Publishing.” 

        “Understood,” Marcel responds. “But why am I here for it?” 

        “Because I need your networking skills to get me the best of the best when it comes to Web Design,” Katya answers. “I need a web guy.” 

        “You already have one of those.” 

        “I have an IT guy which is a completely different playing field,” Katya clarifies. “I need a web expert that has experience from design to coding.” 

        “Alright,” Marcel acknowledges as he pulls out his blackberry and starts to scroll through it. “I can put out some feelers and see who reaches back.” 

        “Oh, I… I think I know of someone,” Davina speaks up. 

        “Who?” Katya asks. 

        “He’s a friend,” Davina answers gaining a bit more confidence. “His name is Josh and he used to be the TA in one of my classes.” 

        “Used to be?” 

        Davina’s nerves come back at the question and shrugs. 

        “I mean… he hacked into our school system and got asked to depart on his own account,” Davina explains. “But I swear, it was for a good reason.” 

        Katya couldn’t help but share a look with Marcel who just shared her amusement. 

        “And what was this reason?” 

        “A student identified as non-binary but the school refused to change the gender specification on their transcript. Josh did so easily but he got caught.” 

        “And what is this Josh up to right now?” 

        “He’s bartending,” Davina states. “But he was just shy away from graduating, at the top of his class too, and I promise he’ll be on his best behavior. That is… if you give him a chance.” 

        Katya can’t help but share a look with Marcel again. They were both enamored with the headstrong girl and it was hard to resist her request. 

        “Alright,” Katya gives in. “Let me meet him for myself and if he fits the MoonStone mentality then we’ll go on a week trial to see if he can keep up to our standards.” 

        Davina tries to calm her excitement but it was evident through her smile. 

        “Ok, I’ll reach out to him,” Davina answers. “I promise he won’t let you down.” 

        Katya chuckles at the girl’s promise and nods. 

        “Onto the next order of business,” Katya states. “I have no idea what the next step for this is so I was hoping someone might clue me in?” 

        Marcel chuckles and nods. 

        “I can do some research on the legal side of online publishing but that’s about it,” Marcel offers. “I could probably start on some patents for the name MoonStone and it’s affiliation with Viking Co. but it seems to me that as long as you don’t have your web engineer, then you’re stuck.” 

        Katya sighs and nods. 

        “Yeah… that was what I was afraid of.” 

        “I can start making some mock-up designs for the website?” Davina offers up. “I just need some insight as to what direction you want me to take.” 

        Katya nods at Davina’s offer as her drive returns once more. 

        “Alright, well… I was thinking we keep to our origins,” Katya states. “Our colors, our logos, our language. This is still MoonStone so we have to represent ourselves online as we are in person.” 

        Davina takes in the notes and is quick to start sketching out ideas. Katya’s mind roams free as her creativity flows endlessly. Marcel remained silent as he watched two of his close friends glow beautifully as their passions took over them. 

*

        The business day was already done but Elijah remained in his office working. Gia had bid him goodbye a while ago but he couldn’t recall how long ago that was. Elijah ignored the glaring clock on his desk and continued to read through his paperwork allowing that to fill up his time and mind. 

        A soft knock breaks him from his concentration and he looks up to find an unexpected guest. 

        “Mother?” 

        “Hello, son,” she answers as she steps into his office. She looks around the space analyzing the decor and ambiance before her focus returns to Elijah. “Like what you’ve done with the office.” 

        Elijah finds himself fixing his tie as his mother’s stare landed upon him. 

        “Thank you,” he answers. “How did you find me here?” 

        “Oh, I called your assistant,” she states as she takes her seat across from him. “She told me you were still at the office.” 

        Esther removes her gloves and tucks them into her designer purse. She doesn’t smile nor does she frown as she picks her next words. 

        “Nice girl, your assistant,” she comments. “Wonder why such a thing would put me on hold all day when I’ve been trying to reach you?” 

        Elijah refrains from sighing knowing the hidden accusation from his mother’s words. 

        “Mother, I…” 

        “No, need to explain,” Esther cuts him off. “Children grow up. They don’t need their mother’s looking over them.” 

        Elijah knew there was no excuse he could use to appease her. She would hold this betrayal over his head before she found another source of power. 

        “What can I do for you?” 

        Esther takes her time to respond even though Elijah already knew what she was here for. Her eyes stray to the window behind Elijah that illuminated the other buildings around Viking Co. She hums pensively before looking back at him. 

        Even though they were both seated at equal height, Elijah couldn’t help but feel like he was being looked down upon. 

        “I assume Niklaus came to speak to you on my behalf,” Esther states. “He came by the house for a quick moment before disappearing again.” 

        “Yes,” Elijah answers. “He paid me a visit. Told me that something was going on with Kol.” 

        “That boy,” Esther sighs out. “I’ve done everything I can for him and he remains ungrateful. He’s gotten kicked out of Stanford for selling answer sheets. He did the same thing at UCLA and now he refuses to go to Yale after I made a very impressive donation. I told him I could get him into whatever school he wants but he refuses to go back. I’m at my last wits which is why I need your help.” 

        “I can try to speak to him…” Elijah starts to offer but his mother is quick to interrupt him. 

        “Oh, dear, noble Elijah,” his mother responds. “Speaking to him won’t help him much. Kol needs structure. The kind of structure you gained when you came to work with your father when he ran the company. I need you to give him that and perhaps that will stick.” 

        Elijah was at a loss of words. 

        Kol was a hurricane of a person. He created disorder wherever he went. There was no stopping him. 

        A characteristic that came from their very stubborn mother. 

        “He needs this, Elijah,” his mother pleads. 

        Those words were the final nails to his coffin as Elijah had no other choice but to agree. 

        “I’ll take him under my wing,” Elijah reluctantly states. 

        “Good, I thought you would,” Esther praises as she starts to pick up her things to depart. Now that she had achieved her goal there was no reason for her to stay any longer. She slides her gloves back on and stares down at her son as she rises from her seat. 

        He looked tired. A little worn out. Too much work and not enough life could do that to you. 

        A soft gaze crosses her face at the thought but she’s quick to diminish it. 

        “You work too much,” she comments with a scowl. “Perhaps that’s why Katerina left you. Such a good girl, that one. Very well connected, good genes… Should have tied her down when you had the chance.” 

        Elijah doesn’t respond not knowing that the truth would only serve as ammunition to his mother to shift or change him into what she wants him to be. 

        “We weren’t a good match.” 

        “Hmm,” Esther hums as she turns to leave. She stops by the door and lets out a sigh. “Gia, your assistant, she’s a pretty one. It’s cliche to marry the secretary, I know, but the girl’s got potential.”

        “Mother…” Elijah sighs out. 

        “Alright,” she mutters. “I’ll stop… for now.” 

        The threat lingered in the air as she left leaving Elijah drained at the potential future meddling fro his mother. It didn’t help that his mind was soon occupied to the incoming presence of his brother Kol. 

        The workday had certainly grown longer in the span of five minutes.

#elijah mikaleson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x oc #elijah mikaelson x ofc #the originals au #the vampire diaries au #tvd au #elijah mikaelson fic #elijah mikaelson fanfic #elijah mikaelson x you #fluff #angst #tvd #deals with the devil masterlist #deals with the devil part 11

[composereggwrites]

Imprint Zine: New Creators’ Spotlight

This is my full article for the twewy @imprintzine!!! There’s still digital copies available of the full zine, and some merch left too!!! It was a blast to write and work with the other participants!

If you like this and wanna chat with me about it hit me up here or in my twewy discord!!!

Ao3

NEW CREATORS SPOTLIGHT

Hello again readers, and welcome to this month’s New Creator Spotlight! We find up-and-coming artists of all types to highlight! From fashion, music, and art, we know how to find the hidden talent in Shibuya and illuminate them all for you to see!

Mr. Mew Creations

First up is Mr. Mew Creations, a new fashion brand led by the fabulous Eri and Shiki Misaki. This duo has taken the fashion scene by storm with their innovative ideas and inspiring designs. From dresses to bright three-piece suits, these two push the boundaries of how we define outfits.

The star of their debut collection is a marvelous dress suit! It’s a dress, and a suit, combined into one! The top half is styled as a silken tuxedo jacket in bold fuchsia, with a pale lavender undershirt and iridescent pearl buttons. The bottom half, however, is a skirt designed to evoke the image of an elegant ball gown. The slip is comfortable enough to wear all day, while providing a backing to the outermost layer, which is a cascade of feathers dyed a stunning cobalt blue.

They have a myriad of other pieces in this lineup, going beyond the binary while staying fashionable and comfortable. From a simple purple shirt with embroidered orange foxes along the hem, to a yellow sweater with a detailed pink squirrel on the front, there’s a wide variety to choose from!

We sat down with the girls for an interview in their studio to talk about their threads, and they had a lot to say!

Thank you for interviewing with us. Could you both introduce yourselves for our readers?

Eri: Yeah sure! Thank you for interviewing us! I’m Eri, the lead designer of our two-person team, Mr. Mew Creations! I do most of the conceptual work, putting ideas down on paper and seeing where that gets us. Shiki definitely helps with that, but her talent shines in, well-- She can tell you!

Shiki: Hah, yeah! I’m Shiki Misaki! I’m the seamstress, so I made all the outfits you can see here in our workspace! Taking what Eri gives me, I bring our ideas to life! We’re both good in each other’s field, but together it feels like we’re unstoppable. She’s handed me some amazing designs to work with, and some I never thought I’d be able to turn into reality. The star of our show, the dress, was one of those. It almost ended up in the trash on more than one occasion, actually. We had to completely redesign it multiple times because we’re both perfectionists, and because someone sees the laws of physics as a challenge to beat. Eri likes to see how far we can push things past their limits, but we work best together because I can reel her back in if it goes too far.

We’re glad you two make such a good team! What led you to make the half-dress, half-suit outfit?

Eri: We wanted to design something that ignored gender norms. Something that defied them, without defaulting to a vaguely-masculine, androgynous look. The fact that clothing is gendered is ridiculous, and there’s this idea that men’s clothing is the default when you want a “gender neutral” item. We decided to go in the opposite direction, and add as much gender as we could, without being limited to one gender.

Shiki: It, like most of our line, is inspired by one of our friends. This dress was originally designed for him, before we decided to use it as part of our lineup. Gender is weird, and the society we live in makes navigating it more confusing than it needs to be. To be able to wear what you want, without worrying about the perception others have of you, without worrying about the way you’ll be labeled? That’s the ideal we strive for, and we hope our work can make a difference.

You said your friends inspired your line. What can you tell us about your creative choices?

Eri: Our friends are unique individuals, and we are too, so we know how to take a look at what people want, and what they need. Not everyone has the perfect model body. Not everyone wants to wear the high-fashion bling, or keep up with all the latest trends. The trick is to find what people want to wear, and design that, instead of chasing what’s trendy. If it’s stylish, people will want it, but it has to look nice and fit right.

Shiki: Just because something is comfortable, doesn’t mean it can’t have style. People are going to notice if you’re not at ease in the clothes you wear, and that unease ruins otherwise perfect appearances. We custom make everything here, and as the seamstress it’s my job to take what Eri gives me for the design and bring it to life. Doing that, while taking sensory issues into account, and ensuring nothing irritates the person who will be wearing it, is of the utmost importance.

Can you tell us a bit about  yourselves and your brand? How you got started, or where your mascot came from?

Shiki: Oh! Our mascot, Mr. Mew, was the first thing I ever made. I still have the original, and I carry him around with me. My quality of work has improved a lot, but he’s a big comfort item. He helps me face all the big scary monsters of the world, and I want him to be there to help others too.

Eri: We met when we were younger, back in middle school. I’ve always been good at making friends, but Shiki was a lot more shy then. Actually, we got in an argument, once when we were 15. I was so worried, I thought I was going to lose my best friend forever over a misunderstanding. Thankfully, we worked it all out, and here we are now! She’s a wonderful seamstress, and all of our friends are so supportive, so it’s nice. I don’t think we’d be where we are today without each other, and the help of everyone in our lives.

 It’s clear that these girls put lots of effort and dedication into what they do!

These girls offer more than some great threads! The namesake of their brand, Mr. Mew, is an adorable cat, and you can get merchandise of him too! Show off your love by picking up one of their plushies, cat ear headbands, and more!

Check out their full line at https://MrMewCreations.Com

 Neku Sakuraba

The artist of the month is none other than Neku Sakuraba! If you’ve taken a walk around Shibuya, you’ve already seen his stuff! This graffiti expert has been gaining a name for himself with stunning displays of color and intricate designs. If you frequent 104 or Molco, you’ll have seen his stylish bold lines on ads for some of the stores!

He first started making waves in the art world last December, when he put up a mural in the Miyashita Park Underpass. Dubbed Hachiko’s Guardian Angel by the public, it features a glowing figure standing over Hachiko, with white feathery wings stretched out over Shibuya’s night-time skyline. There are people at the base of the statue, and musical notes fill the outer space. We reached out to Sakuraba himself for commentary, and managed to secure an interview in his studio!

The space was big, half-finished paintings and sketches scattered across the room. Cans of spray-paint, colored pencils, and charcoal were everywhere. Interestingly, we also spotted a couple Mr. Mew plushies laying around. A second guest, a friend of Sakuraba’s who insisted on being called Joshua, was also in the studio.

But without further ado, the interview:

Thanks for welcoming us to your studio! Can you give us an introduction?

Neku: Right, hi, thanks for interviewing me. I’m Neku Sakuraba. Music geek, CAT fanboy, unwilling follower of fashion trends. That one over there [he gestures toward his friend] is Joshua. Please ignore everything he says. He decided to be here for “moral support,” but I think he just wants to tease me.

[Joshua, at this, gasped, and said, “I would never!” but as requested, his further commentary has been cut from the interview.]

Got it! What inspired you to start making art?

Neku: I’ve always been a doodler. My mom has artwork from back when I was six. The big moment of inspiration for me, when I went, I want to do this, was when I saw CATs art. Looking up at the mural in Udagawa for the first time, back when I was ten, I felt a spark, and I haven’t let go of that feeling since. It’s been rough, I’ve struggled with mental health issues, but art has always been a solace in the dark. I never thought I’d make it this far, or get as much recognition as I have. It’s amazing, and wonderful, and terrifying all at once.

You first got popular because of the mural you put up last December, in the Miyashita Park Underpass. Can you tell us anything about it?

Neku: Oh, yeah! It was the first mural I’d ever done, and I drew a lot of inspiration from Shibuya. In my head, I’ve nicknamed it Shibuya’s Composition. The piece is loosely based off a dream, if I’m being honest. The glowing white figure in the center, with the wings, is meant to be a guardian of Shibuya. Someone who helps the city grow. Meanwhile, the people at Hachiko are waiting for their friend to show, but he can’t, because he’s watching from above, protecting them from afar.

Fascinating! Do you feel like there’s a story you can make from that, one you might tell in the future?

Neku: I don’t think this is ever going to be a story or comic, unfortunately. It’s more of a personal piece. A few years ago, I only had one friend, my first friend, but I lost him. When he died, I isolated myself, and it took a lot from some special people to draw me out of that shell. Even now, I wish I could see him again, and the idea of him still being out there, watching over me and my new friends, comforts me when I miss him the most. I guess I’m like Hachiko, waiting for a dead person to come home.

I’m sorry for your loss. Can you tell us anything about your other artwork?

Neku: I do a lot of graffiti-style works. There’s no other big murals out there by me yet, but I’m working on a few designs right now. People have commissioned me to do stuff ranging from tattoo designs to album covers and store promotions. One of my favorite things to do when I make art, though, is to take the mundane and re-imagine it as something mystical. Why can’t you make foxes purple? Who says there isn’t danger lurking in the shadows? What’s stopping me from adding fire and lightning as weapons, from creating fantastical fights?

Another big source of inspiration is Shibuya. I’ve grown up in this city, it’s my home. If I can look around and see things others don’t? Then I can put that down on paper. Whether it’s as simple as catching the neon lights illuminating the Scramble, or the leaves falling around Hachiko, I can see that, pull it apart, and let my imagination run wild.

That’s pretty cool. You mentioned doing album artwork earlier, so can you tell us what it was like to design the cover for the latest album by The Albatross?

Neku: It was fun! I can’t tell you anything about them, obviously, but it came as a shock when they asked me if I could take on this project. In hindsight, it makes perfect sense. But what I can say, without getting myself vaporized on the spot, is that it was enjoyable, and they’re fun to work with. Even if they’re kinda a priss. The amount of artistic freedom I had was nice, and I think we collaborate well together. So there might be more partnership between us in the future, but nothing’s certain yet.

Wonderful! With that, one last question: what motivates you to create?

Neku: Art has always been an escape for me. It can be pretty, or loud. It can shout your thoughts from the rooftops or disguise them under the rustling of leaves in the wind. You can influence others with it, if you’re lucky. I create art for myself, first and foremost. But if I can provide a glimpse into my own secret garden, and let others see pieces of who I am in my work? Then I’m glad. I want to share it. I want to make my mark on the world, and provide others with the escape I once sought.

 This up-and-coming young artist is going to be a big name someday! With his talent, dedication, and heart, Neku Sakuraba might just be the next CAT!

If you want to support him, you can find information about him, his store, and his commission prices at https://nekusakuraba.com

 The Albatross

Our final creator of the month, someone a bit less new, but never interviewed, is The Albatross! Their first album, Noise, featured CAT artwork on the cover: an albatross in flight, with TV static cutting through the image. These two are a mysterious duo, but The Albatross takes the title of most elusive. Despite gaining fame from fans latching onto CAT art, The Albatross has never given the public a single word.

Until now, that is! With their second album, Pulse, set to release in a couple of weeks, they have consented to an interview for the first time!

The album artwork was done by Neku Sakuraba, and it features a feathered white wing, sprouting from the right-hand side of the image. Some of the lower feathers have been replaced with graffiti-like designs.

As for the music itself, their first album featured orchestral tracks, heavy on the violin, alongside electro-punk tunes! Some were instrumental, while others had lyrics. Pulse is looking to be the same style, but rather than the dark themes of Noise, it contains brighter, more hopeful songs.

We went through a lot of paperwork, involving multiple non-disclosure agreements, and the interview took place over a call while they utilized a voice changer, but it was worth it! And we’re happy to share what we’ve learned with you!

Thank you for choosing to have your first interview ever be with us! Can you give us an introduction? Nothing too personal is required!

Albatross: You were the only ones I felt were trustworthy, and the only ones completely willing to honor my anonymity. Also, a friend may have bribed me into it with promises of ramen. As for introductions… I am The Albatross, composer of music, avid Tin Pin fan, and a nerd when it comes to all things Shibuyan. History, culture, the trends. I thrive off her, it’s like the city’s got a pulse that matches my heartbeat.

Shibuya is amazing, we agree. Can you tell us why you chose your alias?

Albatross: There’s a lot of symbolism in the albatross. The bird can be a sign of good luck for sailors, historically. In the poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, though, one of the sailors kills an albatross, and thus it becomes a curse. He bears the burden as the other sailors hang the bird around his neck, reminding him of how he’s doomed them all. I’ll let fans keep speculating on why I picked it, though. I can’t give away all my secrets here.

Of course. We wouldn’t want you to spoil all the fun! How do you make your music?

Albatross: It’s amazing what you can do with technology! I know how to play the violin and piano, so any parts in my songs with those are actually me playing, but for the rest I use a few different music programs! For vocals, I outsource it to Shibuyan singers, but all lyrics are still written by me. In the end, I weave everything together, and finagle it so it fits.

Sounds like a lot of work. Where do you get your inspiration for it all?

Albatross: From Shibuya! This city has a life of her own. Feet tapping against pavement, voices reaching through the air, all the beeps and honks and the myriad of noises that resound in every corner; it all creates a rhythm, it creates music. Sometimes I’ll sit and let it all wash over me. The city holds so much, a million stories fighting for attention. They echo in my head, begging to be told, so I write them. I turn them into music in the hopes of expressing their messages for everyone to hear.

The tone between your first and second album has changed a lot, from what the previews are showing. Is there a reason for this?

Albatross: Yeah. I’m going to be blunt. When I wrote and released my first album, I was suicidal. Completely isolated from the rest of humanity, with no friends or good experiences to fall back on for comfort. My only outlet was music, and because I was so depressed and misanthropic, my work reflected this. I saw the world as poisoned, felt like people would never change, and thought my existence contributed to the negativity.

But now? I have friends. Someone entered my life, not quite of their own free will, but they stuck around. They dragged me into the sun, undoing all my self-sabotaging attempts, and they helped me grow. Helped me learn to see the good in humanity again. Shibuya is full of life, full of creativity, of people trying to do their best and help others. I wasn’t able to see it before, vision clouded with my own preconceived notions, but they… Removed the tinted glasses from my face, so to speak. And this is why my new album is more hopeful and lighthearted.

You mentioned mental health, just now. Are you able to elaborate on any of that?

Albatross: Mhm, I can. It’s not pleasant, but… Mental health isn’t talked about enough, even though it impacts so many people. I’ve had depression for years now. I still do. Some friends and a few bonding experiences doesn’t magically cure everything. There is no magic cure. What helps is finding people you can rely on when things get tough. If I lock myself in my apartment, I used to hide away for weeks. Now, though? One of them comes knocking after a few days, with ramen and orders to shower. Sometimes it can feel like you’re going to shatter into a million pieces. But instead of falling apart in secret and cutting myself on the shards of glass, I have people who hold me as I break, minimize the damage, and help me piece myself back together.

Recovery is not a straight line, and there’s no end to the winding trail you take. What’s important is having friends there with you. People who help you stand up when you stumble, who help you make camp when you need to rest. Find someone who makes you feel safe enough to fall apart. Someone who can be there to pick up the broken shards, and help you create something new and beautiful with the pieces.

 The Albatross is still a mystery to us all, but hopefully their words and music have reached those of you who need to hear them!

They don’t have an official website, but you can find The Albatross on your preferred music streaming service, or head to a local music shop to pick up their stuff! Don’t forget to pre-order their newest album, Pulse, and if you haven’t grabbed Noise yet, be sure to snag that too!

And that’s all for our New Creators Spotlight this month! Be sure to get next month’s issue for all our latest stories, and to discover the up-and-coming talents of Shibuya!

#twewy #the world ends with you #Subarashiki Kono Sekai #Joshua Kiryu #Neku Sakuraba #shiki misaki #eri #eri twewy #yoshiya kiryu #imprint zine

[happiibaka]

DIMLIM Second Interview (Pg. 1 of 4)

*YOU CAN SHARE/LIKE, BUT PLEASE DO NOT REPOST TEXT ELSEWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION. I HONESTLY DIDN’T HAVE TO, BUT I WORKED REALLY HARD ON THIS TRANSLATION FOR AN UNNECESSARILY LONG TIME. IF YOU WANT TO TRANSLATE THIS TO ANOTHER LANGUAGE, PLEASE CREDIT ME AS THE SOURCE OR JUST ASK ME; DESPITE THE CAPS, I DON’T BITE lol*

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Original interview link: https://toppamedia.com/interview-2019-9-dimlim/ News Coverage/ Interview Script: 宮久保仁貴 Editor: 松江佑太郎

Translations/English Edits: @happiibaka

(*) = My notes/ clarifications; I didn’t want my explanations to clutter up the dialogues.

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INTERVIEW START:

On August 17, 2019, DIMLIM held 『CHEDOARA』, their greatest one-man live to date, at SHIBUYA TSUTAYA O-WEST. The live was named after their album 『CHEDOARA』, which was released last August 2018; the live itself was announced later that same year in December. With 『CHEDOARA』 set as the base, the setlist was determined from the previously released 『Rijin』, as well as the *『Kidoairaku』 (Human Emotions) single that was exclusively released at the venue the day of. Through the live, the band expressed the culmination of “human emotions” they carried on their backs through their journey in the past year. The day also marked the conclusion of DIMLIM’s second chapter in the band’s history, as members Ryuuya (Gt) and Taishi (Ba) officially withdrew from the band on the same day.

And on Friday, September 20, 2019, Sho (Vo), Retsu (Gt), and Hiroshi (Dr) will hold their one-man live 『Sonzai Shoumei』 (Proof of Existence) as a newly reformed band of three. They also announced the release of a 2nd album following 『CHEDOARA』 at the end of this year in December. DIMLIM is starting to move forward, as the band plunges into the third chapter of its career.

This time, without taking any stops, DIMLIM has continuously progressed forward with their band activities. I asked them about their journey for the past year, the 『CHEDOARA』 live, the thoughts and emotions that were put into their work 『Kidoairaku』, and the new step they are taking into the band’s third chapter through various band activities.

(*Kidoairaku means “human emotions”. The 『喜怒哀楽』kanji literally translates to “joy, anger, pathos, humor”. Just keep the concept in mind because the band mentions the expression quite often) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------In regards to 『CHEDOARA』, DIMLIM’s greatest one man live (to date), the other day, great job! That was very much appreciated. I was able to see the live, and I think it demonstrated how the band’s vision has been more deeply polished and refined since the announcement from last December and within the past 8 months. From the announcement up until this point now, did the band as a whole have a change of heart/mind?

Sho: Since various things have happened, such as member withdrawals, rather than a change of heart/mind, more of our circumstances have changed. As expected, we experienced some ups and downs in our mood. However, I think that we still moved on without falling apart as we took each step forward.

Hiroshi: I definitely don’t want anyone to perceive that as a minus/disadvantage.

Retsu: There was nothing but a change of heart/mind. But definitely not in a bad way. Right now, with the 3 of us, our artist picture shows us almost in our bare minimum*, but we had various thoughts before we reached that stage.

(*In comparison to before appearance wise, considering they are in the visual kei scene)

So you’re saying?

Retsu: Well, since the release of 『CHEDOARA』 up until now… this isn’t the band’s outlook from here on out, but it made me think that it was a good phase in the band’s career. In addition to that, I think our band has evolved. We had a tour, even participated in the Metal Square event, and experienced all sorts of incidents and troubles. As a result, I think it’s most fitting to say that our perspectives have broadened.

Along with your minds, I think the acoustic and lighting conditions for the August 17 live elevated the band’s status by illuminating how much the band had polished itself. Who was put in charge that day?

Retsu: The lighting was done by a person named “Mori”-san. He is close to us in age and also really close with the band. If we told him beforehand the key points, the atmosphere, and the images we had in mind, we would have a light discussion afterwards. Rather than telling him “please do this in this certain way”, we entrusted the task to him because we know that he puts a lot of thought into his work and ideas.

The sounds/acoustics were done by *白土-san (SHIBUYA CYCLONE PA). When we performed at CYCLONE, we noticed that the acoustics surpassed that of other livehouses, so we were surprised. From then on, we invited him to work on the acoustics for our tour and the like. Even for the August 17 live, we thought that it was impossible to have anyone else other than 白土-san, so we requested him to work with us. We feel like he really understands us. Other than what we know and want, he also takes other factors into account and really looks after us in terms of sound. That’s pretty much how it is in terms of our sound and lighting structure.

(*I think it’s pronounced Shirato-san, but I’m not entirely sure so I left the original kanji in. I didn’t want to butcher the person’s name lol; if anyone knows let me know!)

So that’s why the pieces exactly fit together! An awe-inspiring sensation was expressed in your performance like never before.

Retsu: We feel like we are better suited for live houses that have high ceilings. I feel like the more we perform on a larger scale, the band shines just as much. In regards to that, we don’t have any worries; we just think that we have achieved at least a little bit of what we’ve wanted to do.

Alright. For that day’s setlist, previously released 『CHEDOARA』 and 『Rijin』 were the focus of the concert, which I thought were well interwoven with that day’s limited release 『Kidoairaku』. While determining the setlist, were there any themes that you were conscious of?

Sho: When initially deciding on the setlist, I really wanted to put it in the order of the limited release 『Kidoairaku』. First would be 『Ki』、then 『Do』、then 『Ai』、then 『Raku』. I wanted to put it together in this order and then squeeze in tracks from 『CHEDOARA』. As we were discussing it, we were saying “this isn’t it; that isn’t it”.

Retsu: We decided on the setlist relatively quickly. Immediately after the release, we did a limited one-man live for those who purchased it and performed all the songs from 『CHEDOARA』. From then on we were pretty much open for a one year period, so while we were thinking about how to showcase the band for our live at Shibuya O-West, we established that list and the limited release CD as our core and created the live with 『CHEDOARA』 as the focal point.

By the way, I heard that artist and designer “Kyougu”-san was in charge of some of the new goods that day. Especially with the  『Aizou ni Tsuki...』 t-shirt, I can strongly sense the song’s and the band’s view of the world.

Sho: The release of t-shirts with two of “Kyougu”-san’s patterns was decided beforehand. The kanji for 『Aizou ni Tsuki...』 is really nice. We haven’t really used letters/characters before...I really liked the appearance of the characters, especially the appearance of the characters “Aizou”. We wanted to leave behind our inspiration as it is.

I see. So in summarizing various things, how was the reaction the day of the live? Personally, I felt like I was able to feel the pulsation of everyone’s lives up on the stage. I felt like it was a live packed with all the emotions of 『Kidoairaku』.

Retsu: The moment I came out, the moment I took one step onto the stage...

Hiroshi: I thought “We won, we got this!” *laughs*

Retsu: There was that too. Definitely, the atmosphere was completely different from that of a usual livehouse. It was something that I had never experienced before--feelings almost like “Kidoairaku”. I felt it the moment the *SE started ringing throughout the venue. Then from there we’ve had various things happen such as the member withdrawals… So the moment we entered the stage, I realized that it was different from our usual lives. While we were performing, I felt like we were able to create musical connections, even in regards to the SE. I think we were able to move forward while taking in everyone’s reactions.

(*I believe SE means intro song)

I would like to touch more on 『Kidoairaku』, the piece that elicited the reaction above. When did you start planning for this piece? Also, when did the production itself start?

Hiroshi: Isn’t it immediately after we decided that we would perform at O-West?

Retsu: I actually can’t remember at all *laughs*

Sho: Production probably started about half a year ago. Originally, there was a song that we were thinking about releasing...

Retsu: While we were thinking about all kinds of stuff, while we were doing various things during the 『CHEDOARA』 live, we settled on the title “Kidoairaku”. It was simple, so we didn’t think much of it. 

As we were performing, I realized that we created a song that appropriately contextualized the emotions of joy and anger that I was feeling inside. So on the contrary, I think everything went smoothly. I wasn’t too worried. 

As was the case with the 『CHEDOARA』 album, I was surprised by the seamless connections between the songs and the degree of completeness. I especially feel the beginning and the end of the pieces 『Do』、『Ai』、『Raku』. In recent years, Retsu-san has been composing more music. Are there any genres that have influenced you? I sense multiple musical elements in your compositions, without specifically restricting yourself to the so-called genre of heavy music.

Hiroshi: When I first heard the demo, I was surprised and said “What IS this!?” *laughs*

Sho: It was mysterious since the demo stage, so I thought “What the?” *laughs*

Retsu: “What the hell is this?” is a reasonable thought to have when releasing a song. I didn’t want to restrain myself to any genre. Recently, I listen to more popular music rather than extreme music. My theme is learning how to incorporate different elements and thoroughly absorb them. I think it’s fine to create things in that way in the beginning.

With the SE and the way you use sound, it’s not interesting to come up with ideas using fixed ideas or a formula. I also feel like the audience members who come to see us don’t want ordinary stuff. Moreover, whatever I have absorbed and created, I try to bring it to life with the band.  As a band, we feel that just being cool is not interesting at all. In regards to our compositions, our biggest concern is how to approach and express our music.

As with previous works, I feel like you are including more avant-garde elements with every release.

Retsu: Just like Sho said, at first everyone is like “Huh?” or “What is this?”. I believe that’s more interesting. I think it’s important to have songs that are obvious like “Oh, this song has this specific kind of feeling”, but if we only have those kind of songs then it won’t be interesting. So I try to surprise the members at first. Also, the compositions can give me confidence as a composer. It’s not a conflict between the individual and the band, but I don’t think you can make good music without some stimulation. I just felt like the days of simply making cool things are over. 

That’s why I am writing songs that I myself would like to be surprised by; if I can’t move or impress myself, I don’t think the people listening to our music would be moved or impressed either. I am composing music while being conscious of that.

#this band deserves all the love it can get T^T #dimlim #sho #retsu #hiroshi #chedoara #kidoairaku #rijin #interview #metal #visual kei #japan #happiibaka #translations