#higher learning 1995

[cyarsk52-20]

TYRA BANKS & OMAR EPPS Higher Learning (1995), dir. John Singleton

#higher learning 1995 #filmedit #tyra banks #omar epps #90sedit #black love #mineedits #blacklove #blackloveedit #blackactorsdaily #black romance #90s nostalgia #90sblacklove #blacklovegifs #tyrabanksedit #omareppsedit #black tumblr

[cantsayidont]

Haterating and hollerating through the '90s:

POSTCARDS FROM THE EDGE (1990): Carrie Fisher scripted this witty adaptation of her novel about coked-up, pill-popping actress Suzanne Yale (Meryl Streep), who overdoses in the bed of a strange man (Dennis Quaid), ends up in rehab, and learns that the only way the production insurance company will let her keep working is if she stays with her mother, an aging singer-actress-diva (Shirley MacLaine) whose love for her daughter is equaled only by her tireless determination to upstage her. (No, it's not autobiographical at all, why do you ask?) Fisher's deftly paced, funny script weaves in various serious mother-daughter moments without ever becoming mawkish, and offers a fabulous part for MacLaine, who has a ball poking fun at herself as well as Debbie Reynolds, Fisher's real-life mother and the obvious basis for the film's lightly fictionalized "Doris Mann." Curiously, the weakest link is Streep, who never quite sheds her customary air of prim affectation and always seems ill at ease with Fisher's layers of self-deprecating, sarcastic humor. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Apparently not, although I had questions about Suzanne's rehab friend Aretha (Robin Barlett). VERDICT: MacLaine's finest hour, but Streep's primness keeps it "good" rather than "great."

TERESA'S TATTOO (1993): Painfully unfunny crime comedy, directed by Melissa Etheridge's then-GF Julie Cypher and costarring Cypher's ex, Lou Diamond Phillips, along with an array of incongruously high-profile actors like Joe Pantoliano, Tippi Hedren, Mare Winningham, Diedrich Bader, k.d. lang (!), Sean Astin, Emilio Estevez, and Kiefer Sutherland, most in bit parts (some of them unbilled). The headache-inducing plot concerns a couple of brain-dead thugs whose elaborate hostage scheme hits a snag when their hostage (Adrienne Shelly) accidentally dies. Their solution is to kidnap lookalike Teresa (also Adrienne Shelly), a brainy Ph.D. candidate, and disguise her to look like the dead girl — including giving her a matching tattoo on her chest — in the hopes that the dead girl's idiot brother (C. Thomas Howell) won't notice the switch until it's too late. This truly bad grade-Z effort, barely released theatrically, feels like either a vanity project or a practical joke that got out of hand, and is interesting mostly as a curiosity for Melissa Etheridge fans: The soundtrack is M.E.-heavy, and Etheridge herself has a brief nonspeaking role. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Technically? (Etheridge has no lines and lang plays a Jesus freak.) VERDICT: May erode your affection for M.E.

BLUE JUICE (1995): Tiresome comedy-drama about an aging surfer (a terribly miscast, painfully uncomfortable-looking Sean Pertwee) who's still determined to continue living like a 20-year-old surf bum with his obnoxious mates, even though his back is giving out and he's perilously close to driving away his girlfriend (a disconcertingly hot 25-year-old Catherine Zeta Jones), who is keen for him to finally cut the shit. Meanwhile, the scummiest of his mates (Ewan McGregor) doses their pal Terry (Peter Gunn) and gets him to chase after an actress from his childhood favorite TV show (Jenny Agutter) in hopes of dissuading from marrying his actual girlfriend (Michelle Chadwick), and their mate Josh (Steven Mackintosh), a successful techno producer, flirts with an attractive DJ (Colette Brown) who's actually furious at him for building a vapid techno hit around a sample of her soul singer dad's biggest hit. The latter storyline probably had the most potential (although a weird scene where Josh is castigated by a group of outraged soul fans seems like a lesser TWILIGHT ZONE plot), but none of the script's various threads ever amounts to much. CONTAINS LESBIANS? It doesn't even pass the Bechdel test. VERDICT: If you happen upon it, you may be tempted just for Zeta Jones (and/or Brown), but the rest wears out its welcome with alacrity.

HIGHER LEARNING (1995): Potent story of simmering racial tensions on the campus of a university that definitely isn't USC (writer-director John Singleton's alma mater, and where most of the film was obviously shot), let down by incredibly heavy-handed execution. (The film's final shot is of the word "UNLEARN" superimposed over a giant American flag!) A capable cast (including Omar Epps, Kristy Swanson, Michael Rapaport, Jennifer Connelly, Ice Cube, Tyra Banks, Cole Hauser, Laurence Fishburne, and Regina King) tries to maintain a sense of emotional reality through Singleton's frequent excursions into overpowering melodrama, but there are so many competing plot threads that few characters have any depth; curiously, the script's most complex characterization is in the scenes between budding white supremacist Remy (Rapaport) and Aryan Brotherhood organizer Scott (Hauser). Singleton made this film when he was 25, and there's no shame in its sense of breathless ambition (even if it inevitably bites off more than it can chew), but the overwrought stridency undercuts its intended impact. For a more effective treatment of similar themes in roughly the same period, try Gilbert Hernandez's graphic novel X, originally serialized in LOVE & ROCKETS #31–39 and first collected in 1993. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Jennifer Connelly gives Kristy Swanson a bisexual awakening. VERDICT: The '90s through a bullhorn.

CRASH (1996): Divisive David Cronenberg adaptation of the J.G. Ballard novel, about a movie producer called James Ballard (James Spader) and his desperately horny wife (Deborah Kara Unger), drawn into a loose-knit group of car-crash fetishists organized around a man called Vaughan (Elias Koteas at his creepiest), who stages recreations of famous celebrity crashes like the 1955 accident that killed James Dean. Despite some pretentious dialogue about "the reshaping of the human body by modern technology," the controlling idea might be better summarized as "anything can be a paraphilia if you get weird enough about it." Part of what offends people about the film is that Cronenberg deliberately treats the entire story with the same frosty clinical detachment, rendering the "normal" sex scenes just as remote and perverse as the characters' fixation on the grisly aftermath of car wrecks; the point is that there is no line, just different facets of the same erotic longing, which each of the (admittedly unsympathetic) principal characters embodies in different ways. Spader, Kara Unger, and Koteas are very good, as is Holly Hunter, in perhaps the bravest role of her career, but Rosanna Arquette is underutilized. A worthwhile companion piece would be Steven Soderbergh's 1989 SEX, LIES, AND VIDEOTAPE, also with Spader, which is much more highly regarded (though almost as contrived and scarcely less perverse), perhaps because it seeks to titillate where Cronenberg does not. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Briefly. (See previous note in re: underutilization of Rosanna Arquette.) VERDICT: Icy but interesting.

#movies #hateration holleration #postcards from the edge #carrie fisher #meryl streep #shirley maclaine #debbie reynolds #teresa's tattoo #julie cypher #melissa etheridge #adrienne shelly #kd lang #blue juice #sean pertwee #catherine zeta jones #ewan mcgregor #crash 1996 #david cronenberg #j.g. ballard #james spader #deborah kara unger #crash #holly hunter #sex lies and videotape #john singleton #higher learning #higher learning 1995 #omar epps

[thottybrucewayne]

Speaking of Do the Right Thing, here's some companion films to watch with it!

Uptight (1968) Dir. Jules Dassin ||A drama based on the novel The Informer, Uptight is a film set post-MLK assassination, focusing on a group of Black revolutionaries preparing for a race war and betrayal from within their ranks.|| Like Do the Right Thing, Uptight is about a cast of young Black folks struggling with the society they live in being built on white supremacy and how they navigate that, whether it be through resistance or assimilation. Basically, it is a mediation on Black American identity (Another movie I recommend watching with this one specifically is The Spook Who Sat by the Door (1973) dir. Ivan Dixon is based on a play by the same name that deals with the same themes through the POV of a Black former CIA agent)

Cornbread, Earl, and Me (1975) Dir. Joseph Manduke ||"High school basketball star Nathaniel "Cornbread" Hamilton (Keith Wilkes) is the pride of his urban neighborhood, and he appears destined for big things on the court and in the classroom. But a dare leads to a fatal misunderstanding when Nathaniel is shot dead by police who take him for someone who's just committed a violent crime. As police officers try to protect one of their own, members of the oppressed African-American community do what they must in order to find justice."|| This film is the one I feel has the most in common with Do the Right Thing, there are many parallels to be drawn from both Radio Raheem and Cornbread to the way cops are presented in both films. Both tell stories that are unfortunately prescient, a misunderstanding that a Black person pays for with their life is the sad reality of the society we live in. Each film also feels like a time capsule, which makes the reality that things haven't changed that much hit so much harder. Each film paints a sobering picture of Policing, race relations in America, and the demonization of Blackness.

Higher Learning (1995) Dir. John Singleton // A group of incoming freshmen at Columbus University -- including varsity athlete Malik Williams (Omar Epps), awkward outcast Remy (Michael Rapaport), and wide-eyed Kristen Connor (Kristy Swanson) -- struggle to find themselves and adjust to newfound independence. When Remy finds acceptance among a group of neo-Nazis, tensions rise even higher on a campus already divided along racial, socio-economic, and gender lines.// John Singleton's Higher Learning pulls no punches when it comes to the depiction of the banality of evil and the alt-right pipeline years before we even knew how to define it. In the character of Remy, we see the effects of white supremacist dogma coupled with white male insecurity. Like Do the Right Thing, Higher Learning mainly focuses on race relations on and policing. I do think its view of misogyny and gender was extremely lacking and not nearly as fleshed out. (like spoiler alert the Black girl that dies in this barely was a character like she's not very well written at all) but this movie is still very much worth the watch for the discussion of race alone.

La Haine (1996) Dir. Mathieu Kassovitz ||When a young Arab is arrested and beaten unconscious by police, a riot erupts in the notoriously violent suburbs outside of Paris. Three of the victim's peers, Vinz (Vincent Cassel), Said (Said Taghmaoui), and Hubert (Hubert Koundé), wander aimlessly about their home turf in the aftermath of the violence as they try to come to grips with their outrage over the brutal incident. After one of the men finds a police officer's discarded weapon, their night seems poised to take a bleak turn|| I first saw this movie during my freshman year of college and WHEW! It's best to go in with little knowledge on this one but just know it is a VERY hard watch. This black-and-white French film brilliantly tackles police brutality, racism, classism, and the frustrations of youth demonized by a white supremacist system.

#Uptight (1968) dir. Jules Dassin #Cornbread Earl and Me (1975) dir. Jopesh Manduke #Higher Learning (1995) dir. John Singleton #La Haine (1996) dir. Mathieu Kassovitz #thotty speaks #thotty goes to the movies! #The Spook Who Sat by the Door (1973) dir. Ivan Dixon #tw police brutality

[specific90saesthetics]

#'90s aesthetic #'90s nostalgia #1990s #90s #'90s #higher learning #ice cube #regina king #john singleton #90s films #90s movies #1995 #'90s aesthetics

[apicturespeaks]

Higher Learning, John Singleton

#higher learning #john singleton #1995 #1990s #90s #omar epps #usa #film #cinema #cinematography #screencaps #stills

[nasa]

NASA Inspires Your Crafty Creations for World Embroidery Day

It’s amazing what you can do with a little needle and thread! For #WorldEmbroideryDay, we asked what NASA imagery inspired you. You responded with a variety of embroidered creations, highlighting our different areas of study.

Here’s what we found:

Webb’s Carina Nebula

Wendy Edwards, a project coordinator with Earth Science Data Systems at NASA, created this embroidered piece inspired by Webb’s Carina Nebula image. Captured in infrared light, this image revealed for the first time previously invisible areas of star birth. Credit: Wendy Edwards, NASA. Pattern credit: Clare Bray, Climbing Goat Designs

Wendy Edwards, a project coordinator with Earth Science Data Systems at NASA, first learned cross stitch in middle school where she had to pick rotating electives and cross stitch/embroidery was one of the options.  “When I look up to the stars and think about how incredibly, incomprehensibly big it is out there in the universe, I’m reminded that the universe isn’t ‘out there’ at all. We’re in it,” she said. Her latest piece focused on Webb’s image release of the Carina Nebula. The image showcased the telescope’s ability to peer through cosmic dust, shedding new light on how stars form.

Ocean Color Imagery: Exploring the North Caspian Sea

Danielle Currie of Satellite Stitches created a piece inspired by the Caspian Sea, taken by NASA’s ocean color satellites. Credit: Danielle Currie/Satellite Stitches

Danielle Currie is an environmental professional who resides in New Brunswick, Canada. She began embroidering at the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic as a hobby to take her mind off the stress of the unknown. Danielle’s piece is titled “46.69, 50.43,” named after the coordinates of the area of the northern Caspian Sea captured by LandSat8 in 2019.

An image of the Caspian Sea captured by Landsat 8 in 2019. Credit: NASA

Two Hubble Images of the Pillars of Creation, 1995 and 2015

Melissa Cole of Star Stuff Stitching created an embroidery piece based on the Hubble image Pillars of Creation released in 1995. Credit: Melissa Cole, Star Stuff Stitching

Melissa Cole is an award-winning fiber artist from Philadelphia, PA, USA, inspired by the beauty and vastness of the universe. They began creating their own cross stitch patterns at 14, while living with their grandparents in rural Michigan, using colored pencils and graph paper.  The Pillars of Creation (Eagle Nebula, M16), released by the Hubble Telescope in 1995 when Melissa was just 11 years old, captured the imagination of a young person in a rural, religious setting, with limited access to science education.

Lauren Wright Vartanian of the shop Neurons and Nebulas created this piece inspired by the Hubble Space Telescope’s 2015 25th anniversary re-capture of the Pillars of Creation. Credit:  Lauren Wright Vartanian, Neurons and Nebulas

Lauren Wright Vartanian of Guelph, Ontario Canada considers herself a huge space nerd. She’s a multidisciplinary artist who took up hand sewing after the birth of her daughter. She’s currently working on the illustrations for a science themed alphabet book, made entirely out of textile art. It is being published by Firefly Books and comes out in the fall of 2024. Lauren said she was enamored by the original Pillars image released by Hubble in 1995. When Hubble released a higher resolution capture in 2015, she fell in love even further! This is her tribute to those well-known images.

James Webb Telescope Captures Pillars of Creation

Darci Lenker of Darci Lenker Art, created a rectangular version of Webb’s Pillars of Creation. Credit:  Darci Lenker of Darci Lenker Art

Darci Lenker of Norman, Oklahoma started embroidery in college more than 20 years ago, but mainly only used it as an embellishment for her other fiber works. In 2015, she started a daily embroidery project where she planned to do one one-inch circle of embroidery every day for a year.  She did a collection of miniature thread painted galaxies and nebulas for Science Museum Oklahoma in 2019. Lenker said she had previously embroidered the Hubble Telescope’s image of Pillars of Creation and was excited to see the new Webb Telescope image of the same thing. Lenker could not wait to stitch the same piece with bolder, more vivid colors.

Milky Way

Darci Lenker of Darci Lenker Art was inspired by NASA’s imaging of the Milky Way Galaxy. Credit: Darci Lenker

In this piece, Lenker became inspired by the Milky Way Galaxy, which is organized into spiral arms of giant stars that illuminate interstellar gas and dust. The Sun is in a finger called the Orion Spur.

The Cosmic Microwave Background

This image shows an embroidery design based on the cosmic microwave background, created by Jessica Campbell, who runs Astrostitches. Inside a tan wooden frame, a colorful oval is stitched onto a black background in shades of blue, green, yellow, and a little bit of red. Credit: Jessica Campbell/ Astrostitches

Jessica Campbell obtained her PhD in astrophysics from the University of Toronto studying interstellar dust and magnetic fields in the Milky Way Galaxy. Jessica promptly taught herself how to cross-stitch in March 2020 and has since enjoyed turning astronomical observations into realistic cross-stitches. Her piece was inspired by the cosmic microwave background, which displays the oldest light in the universe.

The full-sky image of the temperature fluctuations (shown as color differences) in the cosmic microwave background, made from nine years of WMAP observations. These are the seeds of galaxies, from a time when the universe was under 400,000 years old. Credit: NASA/WMAP Science Team

GISSTEMP: NASA’s Yearly Temperature Release

Katy Mersmann, a NASA social media specialist, created this embroidered piece based on NASA’s Goddard Institute for Space Studies (GISS) global annual temperature record. Earth’s average surface temperature in 2020 tied with 2016 as the warmest year on record. Credit: Katy Mersmann, NASA

Katy Mersmann is a social media specialist at NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Md. She started embroidering when she was in graduate school. Many of her pieces are inspired by her work as a communicator. With climate data in particular, she was inspired by the researchers who are doing the work to understand how the planet is changing. The GISTEMP piece above is based on a data visualization of 2020 global temperature anomalies, still currently tied for the warmest year on record.

In addition to embroidery, NASA continues to inspire art in all forms. Check out other creative takes with Landsat Crafts and the James Webb Space telescope public art gallery.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

#NASA #creativity #fiber art #embroidery #art #art challenge #needlework #crafts #handmade #textile art #cross stitch #stitching #inspiration #inspo #Earth #Earth science #Hubble #James Webb Space Telescope #climate change #water #nebula #stars

[livingforstars]

Titan: Saturn's Smog Moon - September 23rd, 1995.

"The largest moon of Saturn is a rare wonder. Titan is the only one of Saturn's moons with an atmosphere, and one of only two moons in the Solar System with this distinction (Neptune's Triton is the other). Titan's thick cloudy atmosphere is mostly nitrogen, like Earth's, but contains much higher percentages of "smog-like" chemicals such as methane and ethane. The smog may be so thick that it actually rains "gasoline-like" liquids. The organic nature of some of the chemicals found in Titan's atmosphere cause some to speculate that Titan may harbor life! Because of its thick cloud cover, however, Titan's actual surface properties remain mysterious. Voyager 1 flew by in 1980, taking the above picture, and much has been learned from Hubble Space Telescope observations. The Cassini mission scheduled for launch in 1997 will map Titan's surface, helping to solve some of its mysteries."

#nasa #space #cosmos #universe #astronomy #astrophysics #astrophotography #titan

[ataraxiaspainting]

Hier Encore II.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

[Hier Encore I.]

Synopsis: Yorknew Police Department Headquarters, 1995, April 10th. You are a director of public safety. The Phantom Troupe attacks the headquarters and takes you under the guise of a hostage situation. Even when the ransom is paid, you are never returned and assumed to be dead. After thirteen months of captivity, in 1996, on May 9th, you escape and try to learn how to live again somewhere far away from your captor. The payment of freedom comes with a steep cost, one that stains your hands so much that even if you drown them in bleach, the stain will remain there for the rest of your life.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, the reader is described as AFAB and uses she/her pronouns respectively, not SFW implications, misogynistic undertones (not from Chrollo), forced tattooing, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, mentions of starvation, some minor Hunter x Hunter spoilers, violence, Hisoka showing up sorry about that in advance, minor character death, and stalking.

Word Count: 13.7k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Lacrimosa by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

4:00 A.M. by Taeko Onuki

My Girlfriend Is a Witch by October Country

Michelle by Sir Chloe

Sonne by Rammstein

Enemy by Imagine Dragons

Venus Fly Trap by MARINA

Maneater by Nelly Furtado

cult leader by KiNG MALA

Teacher’s Pet by Melanie Martinez 

“She looked like a vixen, and that’s what she was; she had all the instincts of a female fox. She was the proverbial predatory female. She had what she wanted, now, and she was content. There was just the getting completely away with it that counted.” – Gil Brewer, Sin for Me

ii. “I would not wish any companion in the world but you.”

You’re happy here.

You’re happy here, picking pumpkins and apples to make decorations and cook into pies. You’re happy here, harvesting sunflowers to put into glass vases around your cottage. You’re happy here, going into the farmer’s market and smelling freshly roasted corn and baked goods.

You’re happy here with Sebaste.

You’re happy here with Sebaste, who is always carrying gifts for you–lovingly ignoring your pleas to better learn how to budget his money–cookies, fried mushrooms, glazed yams, eggplant parmesan… your favorites. His too.

You hope he’s happy here with you too.

He says he does.

*~*~*~*

“Where do you want it? The neck, the leg? Lower, higher?” a voice, still trying to be cordial but exhaustion and annoyance overtook it halfway. 

The faux leather furniture squeaks slightly as it is pushed down a bit by you sitting on it. You try to adjust yourself as you lay on your stomach, the plastic beneath you crinkling. ABBA’s Lay All Your Love On Me is playing from the small radio, the audio slightly too quiet for you to make out what part the song was at, and also because of how loud the tattoo artist was as she asked Chrollo a few questions.

“The lower back.” he touches it with his cold finger, almost making you jump and run out of that parlor. “Somewhere around here.”

You try to close your eyes and imagine you are anywhere else in the world. Even a sketchy bar would be better than this tattoo parlor because at least then you could leave with no pain in your body. 

“Okay.”

“Thirty thousand Jenny, along with a million for keeping silent about this.” You hear a large bag filled with coins being placed on the table. The same bag that made the owner of this place go on his knees and kept repeating that there was no appointment necessary anymore. While the sound of money jingling would make anyone feel happy, it sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you. No one will ever know though, because you keep your mouth shut unless you have to say something sweet. “Feel free to count it if you wish. I will not stop you.”

“Nah. I’ll pass.”

“Alright then. Are you going to use a stencil first to show me what it would look like? I think that would be best.”

You hear a tired sigh. “If that’s what you want. I’ll take it out.”

Your legs want to run. Your heart wants to burst out of your chest. Your eyes want tears to come out in rivers. But you can’t.

You can’t because it’s useless and all of your progress would be ruined.

“Here we are.”

You feel thermal paper going on the spot just above where your butt is. 

“Looks good.” Chrollo hums, pleased. “Behave. I’ll be back soon.”

His voice is soft but still firm. He steps toward you and squeezes your hand lightly, his thumb rubbing circles around it. He hums again. You can only see his shoes from this angle, but you know he is smiling. You want to scream, but you can’t.

You nod, still not talking. You hear a praise leave his lips, but you’re too scared to pay attention. He thanks the tattoo artist and leaves. The door shuts behind him quietly. For a brief moment, you sigh with relief.

The tattoo artist also sighs. There is a nervous chuckle that escapes both of your mouths, the type where both of you know what would happen if either of you were to step out of line. You try to move your neck upwards to look at the posters on the wall. Most are Marilyn Monroe and Jane Russell, with a few of Audrey Hepburn. The largest poster is of the 1953 film Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, with Monroe and Russell dancing above the title in revealing magician outfits.

The tattoo artist turns the dial on the radio, putting on I Put A Spell On You instead, which you'd rather listen to. 

The tattoo artist leans in closer and talks to you in a whisper. "I'm so sorry about this. I had to do it."

Your eyes are wide, but you manage to keep your calm. Your fingers are shaking. Chrollo's voice is in your head, telling you to be still or he'll know. You do your best to ignore it as the tattoo needle stabs your back, sending shivers down your spine.

The entire process takes five hours, with you zoning out after about twenty minutes. 

The tattoo artist lets out a heavy sigh and leans back in her chair. "We're done, darling. I hope you're satisfied with your new tattoo."

You're exhausted. Your back feels numb. You have zero interest in looking at your new tattoo. You just want to leave.

Chrollo walks through the door with an even bigger smile on his face. "Ah, she's done, is she? Let me take a look."

He walks closer and sees the spider web tattoo, the number zero being on top of it.

"Beautiful. Your tattoo looks amazing, darling." Chrollo stares deeply into your eyes. "Now, would you mind standing up so I can see you in full?"

His eyes wander around your body. Your heart drops as you stand up.

Chrollo looks from your head to your feet as you stand. With every inch of your body, he smiles more deeply. "You look amazing, my dear. Stunning." He runs his smooth fingers across your skin, tracing the design of your tattoo. "Well, I'm satisfied with your new tattoo." He grabs your hand and pulls you towards the door. "Now, let's head back to the room. Don't you need to sleep? It's been a tiring day."

He stares at your tattoo one last time before reaching out and touching your back, tracing the black spiderweb pattern. You want to cry, but you can’t. You feel both the physical and mental pain silencing you. So, all you do is nod. 

Nothing is worth the risk.

The tattoo artist doesn’t look at either of you because of the intense guilt she feels.

The December weather outside only makes you want to shiver more.

Life is death. Death is a blessing that allows the weak to rest. Death is life. Life is a curse that allows only the strong to reap the rewards.

*~*~*~*

Even after all this time since the incident happened, your lower back still hurts. 

It burns whenever you touch it–like your skin is on fire–but it may be more mental than physical.

There is no scarring, thankfully, and because it is on your lower back, it can easily be hidden. Perhaps that was the point of the placement, for only if you do not have a long shirt or high-waisted pants would anyone see it; and only Chrollo was the only one you were allowed to be nude with, not that you had any choice.

It is the 21st of October, 1998. Sebaste now sleeps in the same bed as you. He talks in his sleep sometimes, about celebrating Halloween with you or his mother. It’s cute, you think. The photo frame beside the bed has a Polaroid photo of you and him, both smiling brightly. It’s a gift from his mother to you in more ways than one. Whenever your paranoia is set off, you hold it in your arms until you have calmed down. 

You loved Robin like you would your mother, and aside from Sebaste, she was the only one you would regularly talk to. She is kind to you, and once gave you hand-carved furniture as a gift when Sebaste first introduced you to her as his girlfriend. On colder days she brings you a pot of her homemade pumpkin soup and chatters away as soon as she sets foot in your home. She was talkative, very talkative, which funnily enough contrasts with Sebastian's introversion.

*~*~*~*

“What will you do to stop people from knowing I am still alive?” 

The question you asked, mere days into your kidnapping, came when you were lying down, restrained. You did not mean to sound aggressive, but you think you did by accident. Your nervousness is making you lose your touch, it seems. 

“If you would like to know, my dear, I shall tell you.” Your captor responds, sitting on a chair beside the bed. 

You want to scream for help. You want to demand him to take the silk binds off of you and run for the hills. But you can’t, because you know it would be useless. You have to wait for the right moment.

“I want to know.”

A book covers the lower part of his face, but his eyes still look down on you from your helpless position. The Brothers Karamazov. How fitting.

“We will request more money for your release.” Even though you cannot see half of his face, you know he is smiling from how pleased his voice sounds. “So much money that the authorities will simply give up on you, money that simply cannot be paid.”

Here you are, with a silk scarf tied around your wrists, not too tight but not too loose, and another binding your legs. He got rid of the handcuffs when he returned with you to a penthouse, wanting in some sense to make sure you were at least partially comfortable. Perhaps the handcuffs were just to ensure the public thought that you were a hostage taken for ransom. 

“Four million, sixteen million, perhaps twenty million for just a cut of your hair, maybe fifty million for a photo of you in your presumed last moments.” There is a pause, with you finally being able to hear your rapid heartbeat hidden behind a mask of calmness. “They will give up on you eventually, and the world will continue to go on as it always has.”

You silently wish that you could turn your hearing off like a light. There is such depravity, devotion, and greediness in his tone. 

“Maybe they won’t.” Your eyes keep moving around the room to avoid his intense stare from above. “Maybe they’ll know whatever body you plant is fake. Maybe they’ll locate me. Maybe they’ll… they’ll pay everything off.”

“That does not seem plausible, my sweet.”

You are holding back a sea of tears.

“Even though you think so, there is quite a small chance that will happen. That chance will only dwindle as the price increases, I am afraid. Money is far more important to governments than human lives in all cases. You know that, don’t you?” Chrollo says, his voice slightly teasing, turning a page of his book. “Perhaps it is for the best that they think you are dead though, angel, with all of the… dealings you have done when you thought no one was watching. You are quite resourceful. It’s something we have in common, you know.” 

You know that you’ll only make this situation worse if you try to fight back anymore.

You just look up at the ceiling and count the tiles, waiting for the moment he unties you.

One, two, three, four, five, six…

*~*~*~*

You liked gardening before your capture, and still do. As a hobby, you grow plants that are suitable for the fall setting. You cook with them when they have matured enough, or give them to Robin if you have too much of them. You especially like yams because they can be cooked into both sweet and savory dishes. A duplex trait you love.

It keeps your mind off of Chrollo.

You got yourself a new watering can recently. It can hold more water for your plants and it is prettier than your old one. It is a metal one, the spout rose freshly cleaned from rust by your gloved hands scrubbing for what felt like a millennium. It was worth it. The water compartment has purple lilies and white jasmine flowers on its bottom half. There are also a few butterflies, bees, and praying mantises among them. It’s cute and comforting to you.

This new life is also just as cute and comforting to you. You feel a sense of stability now that you aren’t forced to go from place to place by your captor or in fear of being caught by him. There is a sweetness and simplicity to it all. You get better sleep now that you share a bed with someone you love rather than someone you hate with all your being. You wear sweaters and sweatpants instead of those revealing shirts and short skirts, being free to dress warmly for once. Even when you were given tights as a reward for good behavior, they always were not nearly enough to make you stop shivering. Whenever you go to a clothing store in the town you avoid the section with clothes that are meant to show off collarbones or thighs. You’d rather die than wear them, even in the scorching heat of the summer months, bearing the rolls of sweat that appear on your face and your back.

*~*~*~*

The clothes are too tight. It’s hard to walk like this.

Everything itches. 

You would love nothing more than to take your clothes off right here.

One of your hands goes to the upper part of your back while the other goes near your spine, your arms almost hugging you from how odd their placements are. As much as you fidget, you cannot seem to get that one spot, until you feel someone else scratch it gently.

“Here?”

You sigh, relieved as Jean’s nails move up and down, subduing your discomfort. 

“The bodice is almost strangling me, and they gave me ballet slippers twice my size.” You groan as you sweep your bangs to the side so you can see what is in front of you. You start walking with Jean away from the stage and into the darkness of the hallway where the dressing rooms are.

“Don’t you think you can buy a new pair?” A well-meaning question, but their tone doesn’t stop you from dryly laughing.

“I’m not the one who had the lead role.” You walk to the door with the number four on it, twisting the handle and pushing it backward. “This is just a sideshow, anyway. As soon as I get that promotion, I’m getting out of here and moving to a different Yorknew district. One with a name that does not claim to be a saint.” Upon entering the dressing room, you raise your arms towards the ceiling and emit a low, discontented sound. “Hilland or Kingstown, hopefully. Those have the highest crime rates, after all.”

“Saintshore isn’t that bad.” Jean leans on the door and begins to take off their shoes, their quality much higher than yours. Your eyes go back between your vanity and theirs, both of which have bouquets piled on top of each other, along with other gifts. “The audience loves you, you know.”

“Then why was I the deuteragonist yet again?” Your hands shift through your mound, separating the flowers from everything else. Some chocolates, makeup, perfume, confessional love letters… nothing to pay much attention to, as usual. Frustration overtakes you, but you don’t let it show. 

“I mean it. Everyone loves you. You rival my popularity most of the time.”

Another dry laugh from you. “Then my dog days should be over by now.”

“Perhaps they will soon.” You don’t need to look in the mirror to know that Jean is smiling, trying to comfort you as they always do. “I think you’ll be okay. You have plenty of potential and you are admired by many here, from the patrons to the staff.”

“If those people loved me as much as they say they do, then I wouldn’t be in this dress and instead be living in a penthouse, living a life of luxury without working a single hour.”

“Maybe that will happen someday. You never know.” A hug from behind. “Maybe you’ll be swept off your feet tomorrow by some charming, tall stranger. Like those meet cutes from those movies you like watching.”

“If only, Jean. If only.”

*~*~*~*

Robin took you to the library today because you had mentioned that the few books you had were getting boring. She told you that she had never taken for an answer when you said you didn’t want to bother her. She then grabbed your hand and pulled you all the way here, repeating that you were never an inconvenience to her and that she loved you. She accompanied you to the horror section, remembering your fondness for the genre as you had mentioned a few days ago. That and Halloween were just around the corner.

You were glad to have someone to talk to while Sebaste was busy working in his office, at least.

Robin was chattering away, talking about random stuff that she remembered or events that happened when she was younger. A few weeks ago, she went on a tangent about the history of execution methods and how it related to racial segregation, and if you were being honest it was interesting to listen to. You learn a lot from Robin this way, even things like carving you learn more from her words and less from her movements. 

As much as her interests are varied and odd, you cannot deny that Robin is very knowledgeable. Whenever Robin is present, it's as if you're engaged in a conversation with an old buddy or a younger sibling passionately discussing their interests, even though Robin is significantly older than you. If it wasn’t for the fact that there are many small sections of white hair amongst her ginger locks and her wrinkles, a stranger would probably have assumed that she is your little sister.

You love her and trust her.

“What about this one?” Robin asks, holding out a book with the title We Have Always Lived In The Castle on its monochrome front. 

If you recall correctly, it’s a Shirley Jackson work. Someone recommended it to you a long time ago, you think. You can’t remember who exactly, though. It was not Chrollo as he was not the most interested in horror to begin with. All that was on his bookshelves were books relating to philosophy or something else in that vein.

At present, the library houses a mere handful of people. The librarian, the village teacher with two visibly tired children. A girl about your age with bright purple hair and a black leather jacket with tiny spikes on its cuffs and a white skull on the back of it. A man who looked a bit older than you was reading a book with his other hand on his chin looking zoned out in a way. 

*~*~*~*

There is a pleased, wanting moan coming from behind you on the bed. 

“We’re finally alone, baby…” 

Don Dario lays on his bed, large enough to be used by at least five people. The frame is made of agarwood, and the headboard is crested with what you assume is pure gold, considering how rich the Don is. The pillows are encased with wine red and medallion yellow silk. So are the curtains of the canopy. The blanket is doused in similar shades, but slightly darker than you think. If you choose to lie down, you could see the painted inside of the marquee, but you don’t want to. You do not want to sleep with this slimeball. So you simply sit at the corner hoping the Don would just give up and let you go.

“Don’t be shy, baby.” His knees are stabbing into the mattress and he is quickly unbuckling the belt of his crimson velvet robe, moaning and chuckling with excitement. “Come on, pussycat. Come to Daddy.” Even though you refuse to face him, you can envision how he is licking his lips as you hear his mantle being thrown to the floor. “No need to keep playing hard to get. Nobody’s here aside from you and me. I know you want me, darling.” 

Click, click, click.

He crawls on all fours to your backside and then to your right side, still cooing and cawing. You finally look at his eyes, and you see the direction they are facing; downwards. After a slight scoff from you, though, he looks upwards towards your face. “You’re so cute, you know. I feel like I will never get tired of looking at you.”

Click, click, click.

“You like me too, don’t you?” There is a smirk on his face, making his double chin even larger and making you in turn narrow your eyes. “You must, at least a little bit, right? Everyone wants a piece of me. But I don’t mind if such a pretty girl like you wants to get a bit more than you were told that you would get. You will, if you promise to come back, that is. For another round.”

There is a whisper of a glare in your eyes, and when Don Dario notices this he simply laughs haughtily. 

“Now, now, sweetie.” He puts a hand on your shoulder. “I always keep my word. You just have to do your part and everything will be fine.”

“I never said I would do this, you forced me to be here.”

The grip tightens and you wince. “When I saw you on that stage, I knew I had to have you. I was feeling generous. I still am.” His voice is now cold and demanding, the opposite of how it was just a few seconds ago. “I’ll pay off your debts and have a word with your boss, I promise, if you do as you are told.”

“Asshole.”

Click, click, click.

There is a murmur of fondness from Don Dario’s mouth, but you don’t care enough to make out what he said. 

“You know no sane woman would sleep with you willingly, and so you order your lackeys to grab one by the hair and drag her to your room. Quite pathetic, wouldn’t you say?”

Don Dario rolls onto his back and cackles like he is being tickled. “This kitten is trying to use her claws to fight a lion! How adorable.” You want to throw up.

Click, click, click.

A flash.

“What was that?” You ask, irate. 

“Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” Your neck turns to see him start to unbutton his shirt, the golden letters and medals of the many necklaces around his neck smashing against one another. “Just a few mementos, and also to make sure you don’t say anything… crummy.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Call me whatever you like, but one way or another you’ll do what I want.” There is a sudden grab of your hair as you are forced to lay on the mattress roughly. The touch of the velvet beneath you, despite being soft, also feels like molasses on your skin and makes you feel slow and heavy. “Let us not wait a second longer, my bride for today. Be good for me and maybe I’ll even send more money your way in the future.”

You want to cry out for help, but his henchmen are right outside his bedroom door in case you try to run. It would be useless. You wouldn’t be let go and all that would result from it is you being pushed and shoved back into Don Dario’s arms eventually. He would find you if you ran. 

You decide not to fight anymore. You’re exhausted and there would be no point in the long run. You nod and the genuine smile that appears on Don Dario’s face is a terrifying sight to you. At least you would get that promotion and the money to pay off your debts, even if it hurts to walk in the morning.

“Give daddy some sugar, baby.”

Every hair on your body stands on end as you nod.

You are nothing now but a Mignonne who is forced to be swept off her feet.

“Lay all your love on me.”

*~*~*~*

The newspaper today had an odd headline, to say the least. Especially because this town is so far away from the Saintshore district of Yorknew. It would take forever to get to it, not that you would ever want to return to that place that should be categorized as a nuclear dump if anything. The food was greasy. There was always a whiff of smoke, either from the smokers or the many, many cars, and rusty needles on the ground below you if you set foot outside. Not that there would be a point in going for a walk as Saintshore was practically unwalkable except for a few suburban areas and a small portion of the poorly taken care of parks. 

Mobster Don Dario Niccolo Found Beheaded In Alleyway was not a title you had ever thought would be read or even seen by you or anyone for that matter, but it makes sense. Dario was not short of enemies who would do anything to kill him or at the very least sabotage his business affairs with other criminals. He always had the limelight on him, whether his deeds were good or bad. That gave him the nickname of the uncrowned king of Saintshore. You don’t feel bad for his family or his ‘friends’ in the slightest. That is one person who is part of your unwanted past gone, after all, and someone will be there to get the blood-soaked inheritance and probably continue the Niccolo legacy to take more money.

You’re happy to be far away from that district and from the Phantom Troupe, almost enough to get you on your knees and worship the stars above you. 

*~*~*~*

His movements are always silent, never betraying his presence with the sound of footsteps. You never hear them coming.

He does it on purpose, you think, to keep you on edge and to catch you in any act of escaping he suspects you will do.

He’s right if he does expect you will try something, though.

His earrings glimmer in the moonlight, hypnotizing you with their beauty. His eyes glimmer too, his irises reminding you of the pitch-black sky that is above you two and this picnic blanket. His teeth remind you of pearls sold in unpurchasable jewelry shops. At least you feel hypnotized, because you do nothing as he takes your hand, not even flinching. Like the devil, Chrollo is beautiful. But the beauty is only hiding what lurks beneath the surface; a monster.

“Open wide, dearest.” The chocolate-covered strawberry leans closer, pale fingertips holding onto its dark green leaves. “This is romantic, is it not?”

Maybe you can blur out his words for a bit longer to again remove the bitter taste in your mouth. Then only the sweetness of the scenery in front of you would remain, hypnotizing you yet again.

*~*~*~*

When you step out of your house’s door, it is like you are instantly transported back to four years ago; the last time you celebrated Halloween.

All the houses on every block have decorations of some kind, whether going all out with animatronics supposed to resemble monsters like the popular Bays’ house or a measly jack-o-lantern standing out amongst a poorly taken care of front yard like the lone Mr. Hyde’s house. Perhaps the weeds only increased the scariness for the children and were done on purpose. Ah, weeds. How horrifying. All of the houses also have candy to give out to the trick-or-treaters, from Ms. Alson’s house down the street to the unpopular Blissetts’, your neighbors. In Ms. Alson’s case, she is giving out handmade gift bags to everyone who passes by, even adults. However, the Blissetts only put out a smaller-than-life basket of candy corn with a ‘take one’ sign next to it. Terrifying.

“Trick or treat. Give me something good to eat!” The kids chanted, running around in circles as they all wore costumes.

*~*~*~*

As you ponder the origins of this situation, you diligently search for any missteps on your part. Chrollo, in his typical fashion, remains silent about the expression on your face as your mind races. He always waits for you to speak first, yet you are certain he is aware of your thoughts. Together on the balcony, he feigns interest in his book, his sunglasses serving as a disguise to conceal the gaze fixated upon you. What could you have possibly done to cause such a high-ranking criminal to be romantically interested in you? Did you meet somewhere before? Did he see you from afar and become obsessed with you that way?

“You look rather nice with only my shirt on.” A hand is placed on your bare thigh, squeezing the meaty flesh gently.

“When did you first start liking me?” Your vocal tone emerges with a softer and huskier quality than initially intended. You discreetly clear your throat, contemplating whether a repetition of your words is necessary. Chrollo's gaze is fixated upon you, yet you avoid meeting his eyes, instead directing your attention towards the captivating spectacle of the sunset. The hues of yellow seamlessly blend into orange, which seamlessly blends into red, the colors melding together without complete separation. He affectionately applies more pressure to your thigh, emitting a gentle hum. This shirt serves two purposes: to allure him, ultimately facilitating your escape, and to maintain a facade of modesty, despite it being the most conservative garment available in the hotel room. Your loathing for him burns fiercely within, yet you must never allow it to manifest outwardly.

When you fixate on the sunset, you wonder to yourself if you perhaps can distract yourself from the sensation of his hand caressing your thigh.

Placing his book on the table near the outdoor couch, he leans in your direction and gently draws you onto his lap. You make no resistance, acknowledging the potential advantage this holds for your scheme. After all, even if you tried, he wouldn't allow you to escape.

“I mean if you don’t mind. If you don’t want to tell me, I won’t get mad.” You lean in, Chrollo’s hair slightly tickling your nostrils. “It’s your choice.”

“You’re right in that aspect. It is my choice.” He hums and you can picture his eyes behind his sunglasses shifting upwards in reminiscence. The arm around you pulls you in closer so that your nose is right next to his neck. “But I’ll tell you if that is what you want. I was in Saintshore and saw you dancing in a ballet.”

“Which one?” You mumble, not even surprised that he knew your side job before you were promoted. You can smell his cologne; musk, sandalwood, rum, and vanilla. He always sprays just a bit too much, not enough to make you cough but enough for you to smell it whenever he is close. Not that you would ever tell him that, as that would ruin your plan and he is self-aware enough to know what he is doing. 

“Swan Lake. You played an excellent Odile, beloved.” His hand brushes your arm while the other dances on your thigh still. The queen of the black swans.

“That’s it?” You ask, and Chrollo responds by having his hand over upward from your thigh to your bangs, brushing them to the side. 

“You were just so graceful. You still are just as beautiful, you know.” He kisses your forehead and you try your hardest to not flinch. As you gaze at the sunset, you make a conscious effort to divert your attention from the affectionate tone in his voice. He passionately shares his journey of falling in love with you, while his hand gently rests beneath your shirt, and you sense something hard beneath you. It’s best not to think about it too much, you tell yourself.

*~*~*~*

Two years, five months, twenty-two days, twenty-three hours, and five minutes.

That is the duration of time that had passed since your triumphant escape, about half the duration accounting for the time it took for you to reach a considerably distant location from the place where you were held prisoner.

Tickets to films, musical adaptations, ballets, stage adaptations, and operas. Piles upon piles of novels, fashionable clothes, and delicious food that were more expensive than anything you had ever bought before your capture. Everything was given to you in the blink of an eye, all aside from freedom. 

Memorabilia like heart-shaped sunglasses, flared sundresses, lingerie made with lace and silk, violas, violins, cellos, croissants, cream puffs, macaroons, rings, necklaces, chokers, thigh highs, garter belts, short skirts, sheer tights, and hotpants were all given to you without you even asking. You only wore them and played them and ate them when it would help you with your escape plan, which you guessed was all the time. You became the archetype known as the temptress, a symbol of lust and desirability. Unethical, a Queen Bee, mysterious, wanting, and seductive. But you also had to become Chrollo’s sweetheart at the same time. A princess from a fairytale, a coquette, gentle, sweet, and alluring. 

*~*~*~*

The bedroom is suffocating to you. It was too clean, too pristine, the walls having all furniture mounted on it tidy with not a speck of dust or dirt. There is a low hum of the air conditioner that is above hung paintings that were both stolen and bought legally. A pendulum clock above the bed with its hand swinging from side to side with a constant tick-tocking sound. The blanket restraining your wrists was tied to the headboard, the half that was all things considered a piece of your part of the bed. He doesn’t restrain your legs anymore, a reward you suppose for good behavior, for not trying to kick him whenever he touches you or at the very least within your range. Similarly, he doesn’t gag you anymore for not screaming and crying and demanding to be let go.

He sometimes feeds you and sometimes lets you feed yourself. He brings you whatever you want to eat whenever you want to eat. Pastries, cheese, bread, pasta, all of it you have access to, all you have to do is ask for it. If you don’t request anything, the meal will be something nutritious and balanced, like steamed rice and broccoli with tofu and miso soup. One time you refused to eat, clamping your mouth shut like a toddler as he gently tried to guide a metal spoon to your lips. 

You tired your neck out that way and gave in about an hour later, though the food was ice cold by then.

You don’t refuse to eat anymore. You don’t do a lot of things you want to do anymore. You are scheduled as to when you can and cannot walk within the penthouse like you are his dog. The only room you have privacy in is the bathroom, when the silk restraints come off and you can walk around freely, as small as the room is. Though it is windowless, and there would be nowhere to hide if Chrollo ever decided to open the lockless bathroom door. 

If you are good, he lets you watch movies or shows on the television, he’ll read to you, one time he even gave you some of your old things from your apartment, putting them on the table beside you. If you are bad… On days that you are bad, he ignores you, aside from when you ask to go to the bathroom, he describes the brutalness of the murders he has committed in great detail as you squirm, or he will tickle you for an hour straight until your face is red with tears and you can hardly breathe.

“I’m willing to wait.” 

He repeats this every time you try to tear the blanket off of your wrists and ankles, every time after you cry and scream your lungs out, every time you refuse to look at him and at yourself in a desperate attempt to control at least one thing; your imagination. He wants you to break and leave only your vulnerable, core self. You could never resist the pull of rebellion forever, your thread of patience always eventually snapping and forcing yourself to tie it back together. You could never resist what lays dormant in the deepest crevices of your heart; a chained-up beast. 

“With time, all pain fades.”

*~*~*~*

Maybe he is right in that aspect. As much as you want to deny it, with every passing month you were held captive, what Chrollo does then surprised you less and less. You sort of became comfortably numb to it all, only focusing on escape and not how much he touched you everywhere and told you sweet nothings both in and out of bed.

*~*~*~*

“The bathroom is well stocked with all sorts of soaps and shampoos and creams, as well as any other necessities you will need for this.” Chrollo says as he presses one of the mirrors above the sink, the mirror opening and revealing more products than are at the rim of the bathtub already. As always, his voice is calm. 

You have never heard him angry before, or sad before, and you don’t want to. You don’t know what he would do if you pushed him to that point. That is why when Chrollo had told you that he wanted you to bathe him as a reward for you being so good these past few weeks, you agreed. You had just graduated from being restrained from the bed to being able to walk around the penthouse freely, and you don’t want that taken away from you, especially so soon.

“And I expect you to do a good job.” He adds, bringing your focus back on him and not on the restraints he had tucked away in his closet a few days ago. “There might be other rewards for you if you do so.”

“I know.” You mutter and pull the handle above the bathtub. Water starts to flow and warm up. You want to ask him if those rewards would be for you or him, but you can’t bring yourself to. Rewards from Chrollo are always a gamble, ranging from making bread to him bringing you a spider lily plant home to gifting you clothes that showed off your collarbone to you sitting on his lap as he read. 

“Good girl,” Chrollo says, watching as the tub begins to fill with water and he closes the mirror with a soft click. “And if you’re a very good girl,” He pauses for a moment as the edges of his lips bend into a smirk from what you can see in the foggy mirror. “Who knows what kind of reward I might just give you.” He turns to you, his face still covered by a sly smile. “That is, of course, if you’re a very good girl.”

As much as you try to stop it, your eyebrows furrow slightly at his statement, unsure of what to think. All he does is chuckle.

“Why don’t I make this as fun for you as possible?” In his hands are narrow glass vials, each a different color. From the grainy appearance you can see from each bottle, you can safely assume that they are bath salts. You are right as Chrollo puts them each on the area around the sink one by one. “After all, you’re going to be taking a bath with me.” He pauses for a moment, allowing his words to hang in the air. “I hope you’re excited, darling.” He leans in close and presses a kiss on your forehead. “You’re going to enjoy this very, very much, I promise.”

“I know.” You mutter again as you step forward toward the sink, and Chrollo steps back a bit for you to see the options of bath salts. As you expected, there is a wide variety of scents. Floral aromas such as lavender, rose, cherry blossom, and vanilla. There is also a selection of sweet scents, like strawberry and apple, while at the same time, there are some muskier, darker scents, like cinnamon and sandalwood.

You have no say in your hell. You don’t want a say in your hell.

You pick up the narrow periwinkle flask labeled as lavender with shaking hands. As the warm water in the tub fills your bathroom with the sweet smell of lavender, you hear Chrollo speak up from behind you. 

“Good choice, love.” He says, his voice filled with anticipation as he speaks. “Now then, I think it is about time for you to give me that bath.”

You hate how you automatically nod, and how Chorollo coos as he starts unbuttoning his shirt.

*~*~*~*

You still have trouble having baths in the village bathhouse because of him. You have trouble doing a lot of things you had no problem doing before. You sometimes wake up and because of Sebaste’s dark hair and white skin, you mistake him for Chrollo for a few moments of drowsiness and almost cry and scream. When you are brushing your hair, you style it the way you like it but almost consider putting it in a style Chrollo likes, just in case you see him that day out of pure chance and bad luck. Whenever you see a book that used to be on Chrollo’s shelves, you almost buy it or borrow it so you can burn it later.

*~*~*~*

“What are you looking for, dollface? Treasure? Get rich quick schemes, history?” a voice, still trying to be cordial but curiosity and wandering eyes overtook it halfway. 

The faux leather furniture squeaks slightly as it is pushed down a bit by you sitting on it. You try to adjust yourself as you sit down on your butt, crossing your legs. ABBA’s Lay All Your Love On Me is playing from the small radio, the audio is slightly too quiet for you to make out what part the song is at, and also because of how loud the construction is outside.

“You are a Hunter, aren’t you?” You lean in slightly and make direct eye contact with him, putting on a slight smile. “I would like to know more about a certain Spider if you catch what I am saying.”

You hate how the man looks at you, confusion clear on his face. You knew it would be risky coming here, but you have no other options.

“Why them?”

You place a large bag filled with coins on the table. “The thirty thousand Jenny fee to talk to you, along with a million for keeping silent about this.” You now see the man’s eyes glitter with greed as he smirks. Some people were just too easy. This feels like child’s play compared to Chrollo with the lengths you would have to go to manipulate him. “Feel free to count it if you wish. I will not stop you.”

“Nah. I want to get straight to business if you don’t mind.”

“Alright then. What do you know about them? Tell me everything.”

The man leans back and looks at the cracked ceiling. “Just be warned, pretty little lady, if they come after you it’s not my fault. You’re asking for trouble.”

You’re annoyed at him keep calling you pet names. You want to slap him. You want to say you would rather not be here at all. But you can’t.

You can’t because it’s useless and all of your progress would be ruined.

“Just one sec.”

He takes another drag of his cigar and exhales, the smoke erupting from his nose onto your face and almost making you loudly cough.

“I’ll tell you.” He smiles, the cigar still wedged between his two golden teeth. “You young ones are so dumb. You aren’t even a Hunter, dollface.”

His grimy voice is like nails on a chalkboard to you. He takes the cigar out of his mouth and his finger taps on it, making some of the burnt parts fall onto the ashtray. He hums again. You just want your information so you can go. You don’t want to do small talk, especially with this prick.

You nod, still not talking. His grin widens at that. He raises one of his hands and a man in a suit and sunglasses comes out of the shadows and hands him a folder, leaving straight afterward without making a sound. So you have unwanted company.

You almost let out a sigh then. The man whistles a tune unfamiliar to you as he looks through the file. He then throws it in an uncaring way towards your side of the table, the folder letting out a slight thump as the paper makes contact with the wood. He whistles a bit more and puts one of his legs over the other. He sighs and your disdain for him only increases by then.

He leans toward and taps on the document inside, some of his cigar ashes staining it.

He grabs the bottle of liqueur beside him and pours some into his shot glass, his many golden rings shining underneath the dimmed lights. "Here is all the information we have on them. It is troublesome how little we know about them."

Your eyes are full of annoyance, but you manage to keep your calm. You lean forward and read through the paper in front of you. You have to do this. You have to do this to make sure that your freedom is everlasting.

To read the entire page took only a few minutes at most, the man being truthful in the fact that no Hunter knows them very well despite the Phantom Troupe being much more than infamous.

The man lets out a heavy sigh and leans back in his chair. "Sorry, miss. We know hardly more than you do, but I’ll try to tell you anything else we found out recently."

You want to let out a sigh again. The paper is littered with stains and leaves residue on your fingertips. This is necessary, you tell yourself. Though you just want to leave.

The man clears his throat to get your attention and holds up one of his fingers. "According to my resources, the Spider has recently lost a leg. They quickly gained another to replace it, unfortunately."

It indeed should not be surprising considering how many enemies the Phantom Troupe has, but it is a bit to you.

"We don’t know which one. That’s the most we know of the situation." He stares deeply into your eyes. "I don’t have any other information to give you, I’m afraid."

His eyes wander around your body. Your heart drops slightly as he grabs the folder and closes it.

You don’t stand up, instead briefly gazing at the liqueur bottle. The man smiles more deeply then, and you feel like you are about to throw up. "You know, you’re very pretty, miss. Just beautiful." His hand moves toward you in one brief motion, to which you respond by leaning away, "I don’t bite, no need to be scared." You stand up. "Now, now, dollface. We should talk a bit more, don’t you think? Maybe I can even drive you back to your place later, or mine."

You scrunch your nose in disgust and begin to walk out of the room. He does not physically stop you, but he mumbles insults under his breath. Slut, whore, the more unoriginal ones. You just ignore them and leave.

That guy was an asshole, but at least you got something out of it.

You wonder which Spider has died.

You hope that it was Chrollo, but that would be near impossible.

Chrollo is hardly known about, after all. There was hardly any information about him anywhere; from the news to the people you question and bribe. You don’t know anything about him either, despite being previously a captive of his. Perhaps even Chrollo does not know much about himself, or at least that is what you theorize.

To entirely free oneself from his clutches, one would need to strike a pact with the devil.

*~*~*~*

Sometimes you think you are an escaped ballerina from her music box. You were always in the same position and only did what you were told.

All you have were the walls of the orchestrina and Chrollo. Without him with you in those many penthouses and hotel rooms, you had no one and could speak to no one. Even when you had escaped by shattering your silk-clad, bleeding feet, some small scattered porcelain pieces of you are left behind for him to find.

If you ever told Sebaste the truth, it would all be for nothing, wouldn’t it?

You would be back to being on the run, trying to pick up whatever ceramic drops from you to avoid leaving a path of breadcrumbs that would lead him directly to you. Just one mistake is all it takes, and it would all be over in a flash. You would try to fix it as quickly as you can, but it wouldn’t be enough, because one day his grabbing hands will grab the soles of your feet, and there you will stay forevermore, attached back onto them, never being able to leave his palms.

A few breaths would kick the door down. The windows would rattle. Weeds would sprout in your garden. You would smell cigarette smoke because the palm of your hand would be back to being used as his ashtray. Everything would burn to the ground. 

You don’t want that. God, you do not want that. More than anything in this world.

*~*~*~*

There is someone in your home.

There is someone in your home, and you don’t think they are here to kill you.

There is someone in your home, and although you don’t think they are here to kill you, they do not come with the best of intentions either, though.

You think they are in love with you. Love may not be the best to describe it, you think, maybe obsessed or infatuated instead.

Whoever breaks into your home regularly leaves you gifts; flowers, cards, clothes, and other things they know you like. They must have been stalking you for quite a while before doing this because hardly anyone you know knows what your favorite instrument or candle scent is.

Sometimes they go on rants in the letters they send to you once or twice a week. Sometimes they bring you trinkets, usually hairpins or porcelain figurines. One morning you woke to find a bag of coffee grounds, your favorite brand but also quite an expensive one. When you used them that very morning, they praised you greatly with a long note the next day. However, when you refused to eat the slice of strawberry shortcake that was put on your kitchen table and threw it away in your bin, there was no note whatsoever.

You don’t think they cared, or at least didn’t want to let you know they cared. The amount of gifts put in your apartment only increased every time you ignored the last present. They kept getting more and more expensive, too. Whoever is in your home is either filthy rich or does not know how to budget their money well. 

Sometimes you hear the lightest of breaths when your back is turned and you are sitting on the sofa, watching a comforting movie. They are fast and good at hiding because whenever you try to catch them in the act there is nothing behind you. 

Every time you try to tell someone, they say to just install more security, more locks, cameras, and invest in self-defense lessons and tasers and alarms. You have tried that, and nothing works, the gifts and trinkets keep coming.

No one believes you and your stalker knows it. Every time you try to report it and get shut down, there is a mocking chuckle from behind you when you come back home.

You aren’t alone, you’re with them, but you wish you were because then you would at least be able to rest. You wish you were alone in the dark.

…

There is someone in your home.

There is someone in your home, and you think they want you.

There is someone in your home, and you know you don’t want them.

…

You’re tired. You don’t know how to express it.

It’s nearly midnight and you just want to take out your resentment on something. You just want to be alright. You lock your apartment door behind you and walk from the entrance to your small sitting area. You sit on the couch, ignoring the large box on the table beside it. Instead, you grab the basket of VHS tapes on the floor, shuffling through them with both your hands.

Billy Madison. Perfect. You take it out.

Your fingers tap against the front of the tape, your other hand scratches the back of your head and rubs the back of your neck, and your feet shake.

Your stalker must have turned your lamp on when you were out working, maybe for you to see the gift, because you know you didn’t. You don’t care to address the box or them right now, as you are used to it by now.

You snap the VHS tape in half with both of your hands.

All this world does is hurt you, so who can blame you for wanting to hurt it back?

It was a shitty movie anyway. A horribly written plot. Horribly written characters. You were never really a fan of comedies, especially those with a spoiled rich kid as the protagonist. You were going to throw it out even if you didn’t break the tape. You want to demote that assistant who gave you that as a joke.

But that would be petty, and it was a joke. You just wish he got you Gone with the Wind or The Princess Bride or Romeo and Juliet or something like that instead. You could go for a romance movie right about now, especially one with a forehead kiss. You love forehead kisses.

You throw the smashed VHS tape in the garbage.

You could swear that you heard a chuckle as you did so.

…

There is someone in your home.

There is someone in your home, and they put a gift beside your bed as you sleep.

There is someone in your home, and they put an unused VHS tape with the title ‘Romeo and Juliet' on your bedside table before you could wake up.

There is someone in your home, and they give you a forehead kiss before slithering off again into the dark.

You know they won’t stay there for long, but you foolishly hope that they will.

Dark goldenrod, rich black, gray, baby powder, blood red.

*~*~*~*

There is someone in your home. You are sure of it.

The placement of everything is slightly off.

The perfume bottles and makeup products in your bedroom are slightly tilted, and your figurines are placed in places where you know you didn't put them, like finding your cat music box on your vanity when it is always by your bedside table, and your bed is slightly unmade. You feel a gaze whenever you are at home and when you are just about to fall asleep, you hear the soft clicking of a camera. You hear the floorboards creak, too loud to be your dog’s. You know Sebaste would never do those things because he is in his office all day working, even when you are in bed already.

Your kitchen is dirtier than usual. There are always some fallen, dried leaves on the floor even when neither you nor Sebaste had gone outside that day. Some of your food is missing, like the leftover pancakes you planned on eating. Sebaste claims to have not eaten them, and you know he is telling the truth. 

It is not just your paranoia. There is someone in your home, watching you.

That same person is most likely watching you outside your home too. You feel a gaze wherever you are.

Whenever you go to the library to read something, you always feel someone looking at you whenever you are paying attention to the books, turning their gaze away the moment you look around. Whenever you pick up takeout from the local saloon, you feel someone staring at you in the corner, blending in with the rest of the dancing, friendly villagers. Whenever you are at the farmer’s market, you feel a gawker behind you, hiding behind one of the stalls, one filled to the brim with boxes and boxes of produce. Whenever you turn your head as you are walking to your cottage, you hear quickening footsteps, running farther and farther away. Whenever you are in the town’s museum, you can sense someone near you in the same exhibit, pretending to pay attention to the artifacts and not you.

Their eyes feel intense like you are made of gold. Something sellable at an auction or something to be stuffed into a penthouse and never see the light of day again. Within your blood flows aureate brilliance to them. You are something to be used, to be fed to the wolves.

You found a few muddy footprints in the bathroom coming from the window above it a few days ago. They are too big and too misshapen to be your dog’s, and they don’t look like the footprints that Sebastian's sneakers leave behind. You clean it up with a mop and some spray. As much as you want to be, you cannot say you are exactly afraid, but a few tiers below that.

You are cautious, sure. You make sure your doors and windows are locked before going to sleep now as well as double checking them in the middle of the night. You cannot say you are afraid, though. You are plotting to catch them in the act, and you don’t think someone afraid would confront their stalker.

You keep doing your usual routine. Wake up, boil water for coffee, wash your face and brush your teeth, make coffee and breakfast, and eat said breakfast. You prefer this life to the one you ran away from by a landslide, still, even though your stalker is somewhat ruining it. Chrollo would treat you like a glorified dog.

Sit, stay, and roll over.

Good girl.

Here is a treat.

You think Sebaste is the only one keeping you from snapping and hunting down your gawker with a bow and ax. Ironically, he still doesn’t know about them. But that’s alright with you. You prefer it.

His routine mirrors yours. He makes coffee for you some days. He eats with you. He walks the dog with you. Then he goes to his office to work.

This is a life you are happy with. You aren’t going to let your stalker ruin that for you.

You are not going to tell Sebaste either. It is much better if you handle this problem on your own. Solving problems on your own is what you are used to, after all. Sebaste could be in danger if you tell him. You’re in danger, and you don’t want him to share your fate more than he already is.

Sebaste is the one person in this world you can trust wholeheartedly. You want to protect him, and you would give up everything if it meant he would be happy and safe. So, you buy a taser, some pepper spray, and a pullable alarm, and learn how to hold your keys in just the right way so you could be able to use them as weapons in case your confrontation with your stalker goes sour.

You have planned what to do with your stalker if things do go as you intended. An abandoned shed, a chair, zip ties, and some… equipment if they do not tell you everything they know right away. 

*~*~*~*

Once upon a time, there was a princess who had a terrible curse placed upon her by a witch when she was an infant. Everything she touched would die in but a few moments. One day, she got tired of living alone on the outskirts of her kingdom, banished when she was near adulthood, and set out into the woods to search for someone to be her first-ever friend. 

However, what she discovered was a malevolent man exuding an overwhelming aura of greed. 

She hated him. She hated him with all her being, from how he looked to how he spoke to how he treated her; everything he did she disliked. 

So, a few days after meeting him in the forest behind her cottage, the princess asked him to touch her face. He did, gently caressing her cheek with his palm and fingers. As his hand made contact with her delicate visage, the princess gently shut her eyes and silently counted to five. But when the princess opened her eyes, she was horrified by the sight in front of her. 

The stranger was still there, alive.

…

The unexpected visitor revealed himself as King Death, who is in relentless pursuit of a bride who embodies purity and possesses a power comparable to his own. 

"To discover an angel as calm and radiant as the morning doves and dew is an immense stroke of fortune." 

Uttering these words, he ensnared her with a gaze as binding as a wedding vow, his eyes devoid of light and depth, unlike anything the princess had witnessed in her secluded little forest. Without delay, he then accomplished his task with an air of satisfaction.

…

Princess Blossom bemoans her unfortunate circumstance, trapped in a desolate garden devoid of life and sunshine. “Do you have not an ounce of mercy for me or anyone?" 

Across from her, King Death relishes in the corpse beneath his feet, a lifeless dove's remains, its once pristine white feathers now drenched in crimson, reminiscent of cherry wine. “If you think a bird is beautiful, just wait until you find it dead, dearly beloved by life itself until its last breath.”

…

In the palm of King Death rests a delicate flower in bloom. In a casket adorned with white wisterias lies his cherished bride, eternally his. "A blossom as lovely as you, my rose, should not wither away so easily." Her eyes exude a captivating beauty, a reflection of innocence mingled with fear. "What troubles you, causing such tremors? It cannot be the chill in the air." Though she trembles with fear, he hungrily consumes her terror as the flowers around her wilt.

…

“The nearer you are, the more I break! Have you always been this cruel to us mortals?” Princess Blossom bangs on the wood above her, the coffin sealed shut and buried six feet underneath the beautiful grass, stars, and flowers. She hears someone coming to dig her out, but that hope is replaced with fear as soon as she realizes the sound is coming from beneath her. This is King Death’s reply to her question; to take her to the underworld where only his eyes will see his radiant queen forevermore.

*~*~*~*

It’s necessary, you tell yourself. If there was any other path you could follow, you would have taken it. At least, you think you would have.

Your stalker follows you everywhere. You know it, they know it, but Sebaste doesn’t know it. They probably have seen you in the abandoned shed preparing everything, and either are preparing themselves for confrontation or not taking you seriously. 

You hope, for their sake, that they are doing the former. You hope, for their sake, that they will simply tell you all they know without you even bringing them to the shed. You hope, for their sake, that they will simply do that. But you know it won’t be that easy. Either this person is obsessed with you or was paid to follow you.

If your stalker indeed fits into the latter category, they are certainly in for an unpleasant surprise. You won’t let them get away. You won’t let them do anything other than cry, say what they know, and beg for mercy. Eventually, they will have no voice box to scream with, and only blood will come out of their mouth instead of any sound. 

You will make sure of it.

You made a vow with yourself to make sure of it.

You have no choice other than to be cruel. You know that, and you hope your follower knows it too. It would be far less trouble for either of you that way.

You have to protect yourself and Sebaste, no matter the cost. You love him too much to lose him. He is in the house and you are outside, defending him. You will do anything to make sure he is alright.

So, you wait. You wait for hours.

There is someone outside your home. 

You are sure of it.

You are going to confront them here and now.

You aren’t afraid. You are merely cautious. You don’t want Sebaste to hear any struggling or cries.

Through the window, you smell warm, fresh coffee being brewed in the French press. Sebaste has always had a bad habit of drinking coffee late at night. But it’s alright, he most likely has to work a bit more anyway.

You wait until your thoughts go numb with a lack of sleep. You slap yourself in the face, hard, to keep yourself awake.

*~*~*~*

If one were to compare, this penthouse resembles a work of art in a museum.

It is untouched by dirt and if the small flames of the candles on the table where the television is placed didn’t move from side to side, you would forget anything aside from you and Chrollo could move. Everything shares the same color palette, and there are no warm hues aside from the roses on the vanity in the bedroom and modest fires. Rose ebony, gunmetal, reseda green, silver, periwinkle. Black. Black, black, black, like one day someone decided to cover the counters, walls, and chairs in soot or charcoal. 

It is like whoever designed this had won a lifetime supply of ink paint and decided to use it in different concentrations. Rich on the desks and the vanity, but lighter in some areas like the walls, showing designs of olive roses. The farthest you can go here is to the balcony or lean on the door of the entrance like you could pass through it like a portal if you wished hard enough. You cannot jump from the porch, if you remember correctly the room number is 20008. You are twenty floors off the ground, and you know that you cannot survive a plunge from that high up. 

You feel like a canary in a hanging birdcage. 

You can only tweet and look pretty. You cannot leave unless your captor is there with you every step of the way. You are only allowed to do what you are told to do and not what you want to do.

This is an impeccable, foolproof, ideal enclosure for any imprisoner.

All is flawlessly pristine, to the point of nausea for anyone trapped inside.

You can only chitter and peep like the baby bird you are forced to be. You can only be cradled within suffocatingly loving arms. Chrollo is like your shadow, following you to every part of this place, treating you like a porcelain doll or a pet. You don’t dare act outside of the role you were given because then you know your detainer won’t be pleased with you and your chances of escape will be even lower than they already are.

“Dearest?”

There is that sickeningly sweet voice again, from beside you. He does not know how to shut up, not that you would bother telling him such. You are here, in his domain and his clothes and eating his food. You have no say here, and he knows it.

“Yes?”

You try your best to replicate the tone of a doting, little lover. You don’t fiddle with the skirt of the short dress you were given. According to your kidnapper, your solitary pair of jeans and single hoodie has ‘vanished under enigmatic circumstances’ and thus gave you this attire as compensation. Asshole.

You are waltzing whether you like it or not.

It is how you act that chooses whether you are pulled with puppet strings or not, though.

“You look beautiful.” His tone is so sincere that it almost induces a nauseating urge to vomit directly onto him. “So beautiful.”

You feel like a statue only brought here to be gawked at. He is always touching you in some way, most of the time it is your thighs that are held captive by being caressed with hands akin to velvet. You let him because what else can you do? You would want nothing more than to push him away and run out the door but you simply cannot. You are trapped here, and using Chrollo with honeyed words and passionate kisses is your only key out. You cannot stay in this consolidated coop any longer or you will break.

If you falter, you will never get out of here.

If he catches you in the act of escaping, you will never be free. The silk restraints will be replaced with shackles. A mile of running only means an inch of a chance of escaping. You don’t want to die here. You don’t want to die with rotting, choking hands around your neck.

As you expected, Chrollo’s hand squeezes your inner thigh. “Thank you, Chrollo.”

From the look in his eyes, you can tell he wants so much more than just those words.

*~*~*~*

Footsteps. Calm, poised ones. There is no sound of stray branches snapping or dead leaves crunching. Footsteps of one who knows what you plan to do. 

You do not recognize him. His eyes are as bright as gold yet as hungry as a wolf’s, unblinking. If he was a word, it would be dangerous, in bold, yellow, large, lit letters.

His hair is as pink as bubblegum. His nails are quite long, pointed, and painted black. He has a teal star on one of his cheeks and a yellow teardrop on the other. With his mere presence, he towers over you in height and strength and everything else possible. He is as odd-looking as a clown, you note to yourself. 

“I had heard the Spider had lost and gained a leg.” You say as the grip on your knife gets much stronger than before. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

“Correct, my dear.”

“Which one did you replace?”

“Fourth.”

“So Omokage then.”

“I think. Can’t recall right now.”

You scoff at that. “Can’t recall, huh?” The stranger’s grin stays on like a sticker of a smile that was placed on his face where his actual one would be.

“It doesn’t matter who died, I defeated them and that is all that matters. There is no use in remembering the name of a rotting corpse.” 

“I would thank you, but you have the same mission as he probably did.”

“Whether you like me or not does not matter either, I am here either way.” One, two steps closer. “I am here either way and there is nothing you can do about it, my dear.”

“I never liked Omokage, anyway. He always treated Luna so poorly.”

“Who?”

“The captive that was forced to be his doll of some sort. Though I assume she is dead by now, right?”

The man shrugs his shoulders and laughs. “Probably.”

“Was wherever you all buried her marked if somebody even buried her at all?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I do remember something about a body being put in a dug-out hole by Machi.”

At least she was given that, you guess. “How did she look?”

“There was hardly a body to bury if I remember correctly. It looked like someone took a skeleton and put leather over it.” Another amused chuckle.

“So she starved to death then. Slow and painful and probably chained up. He always restrained and gagged her before he left, after all.”

The man yawns, disinterested. He is not even paying attention, is he? 

“If you ever find out where her grave is, please put a jasmine flower on it for me. Jasmines were her favorite.”

“If I remember. Why are you asking so much about her anyway?”

*~*~*~*

Luna is kind to you, so kind. Despite being taken by such a monster that treats her so horribly, she still manages to smile whenever she talks to you, albeit how rare those times were. You remember one time she wore a turtleneck, the only one she was allowed to wear according to Chrollo, to cover the bruises on her neck, arms, and collarbone. Another time she wore a surgical mask, though because of how bright the teal color was it did the opposite of what Luna wanted it to do; not attract more attention to her face. Omokage only let her wear it because he thought it would “humble her”, whatever that fucking meant. Luna never hit him or at the very least tried not to, even when he broke two of her fingers in front of you. It was a punishment for asking for five more minutes to chat with you. 

“It will all be okay.” It is a repeated saying of hers.

“I know it will.” She would always answer that when you asked how she knew that things would get better. She repeats the saying and her answer both to you and to herself when the times get tougher than they usually are for her. She looked out for you and tried to make your situation better by telling Chrollo how good you were to her. Omokage only ignored and glared at you when you tried to do the same for her. You hate Omokage. You do, with all your being. You hated him more than you did all the other Troupe members.

You hated Omokage more than Chrollo even, which is quite the accomplishment if you say so yourself.

Chrollo thinks it is funny. At least you think he does. Maybe that is why you see Luna more than you do the other “Webs”, as you captives are named.

“It’s okay if he hurts me, I won’t hit him back. Violence is not the answer, it only creates more.” She grinned as she said that, one of her front teeth missing. “He’ll die one day and then I will be free.” It is clear to you that if she continues to think that way, she will break. “You’ll be there to tell Number Zero to free me, right? Then I can go home.” 

She is always such an optimist. It’s a trait you wish you had. You almost wish you could trade places with her because at least Chrollo does not treat you as his punching bag, though you suppose being his plaything isn’t much better. 

“I’ll do the same for you if Number Zero dies. At least then one of us would be free, either way, the ball rolls.” Her light is fading, you can tell by how she looks at you, how her blue eyes don’t shine as much as they used to. “I’ll do anything to make sure he listens.” She is going to break soon. You want so badly to stop it. You want to save her. But you can’t. “I mean it. I’ll do anything if it means you’ll be free.” 

You know she means it, and it brings you so much more pain than if she didn’t. She unintentionally twists her knife further into your heart

“It will all be okay. I want you all to be happy. You all deserve it.” You want to tell her that she does, more than you do. She deserves a good life, a normal life. “We are friends, aren’t we?” You can’t bear to tell her the truth of what will happen if either Omokage or Chrollo dies. “Friends look out for each other.” 

She placed a kiss on your forehead then, before Omokage could stop her. She was dragged back by him pulling on her long sable hair as she cried out in pain. He called her a whore and pulled her out of the room. Neither she nor Omokage came back to the room that day. 

*~*~*~*

“She was so sweet. She didn’t deserve to die like that at all.”

“I am Hisoka, by the way.” He bows, the smirk still being plastered on his face without faltering.

You take a few steps back as he approaches further, trying to remain some distance apart from him. “Stay back.” Hisoka hums and merely comes closer.

“If the description I was given and what you know checks out, you must be [First]. At least, I hope that’s who you are, for your sake.” He smiles and he moves forward. “You have certainly been going on a few little adventures, haven’t you?” 

“...Yes.” He stares down at you. You know that to him; you are a mere rubber toy to twist until your head pops off. 

His gaze shifts to your house, behind you. “You certainly are resourceful; I’ll give you that. The life you have built for yourself was made from nothing. Quite admirable.”

“Do you mean that?” You ask, your voice both cold and inquiring as to why one of the members of the Phantom Troupe is here, in front of you and your house. But you already knew the answer.

“I do.” His voice seems somewhat truthful, but you can tell he wants more.

“Why are you here, Number Four?”

“Now, now. No need to be so aggressive.” He puts his hands up in a mockery of surrendering as he goes back to looking down on you. With the dying trees and debris behind him, he sticks out like a sore thumb. “I have a favor to ask of you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The way he looks at you, a look of one that is about to skin a poor, defenseless doe.

“What kind?”

“Simple. Tell me all you know about the boss.”

“What would I get in exchange for telling you such information?”

“I will not tell the other Troupe members of your location.”

“Is that a threat, Number Four?”

“Oh, no, it is not a threat. It is a potential promise if you don’t listen. While you are at it, you can also tell me about yourself. I believe we haven’t had an actual conversation before if the boss told me the truth that you have been on the run from him for more than two years.”

“Don’t be greedy, Number Four.”

“Oh, no.” Hisoka grins with a proud smile. “I believe you are the one being greedy, my dear.”

“...you’re not the first person to tell me that.”

“You ran away from a life of luxury and comfort. Surely you feel at least somewhat foolish for doing such a thing?”

“Perhaps.”

“The boss is quite displeased with you, though I assume you know that by now. He has been searching high and low all over for you.”

“I’m quite aware, Number Four. We both know I don’t intend to go back.”

He nods and hums. “I know. That is why if you still want to play house with your precious boy toy, you’ll do what I say.” 

You scoff and look to the side. “He is not… just a plaything. He is different.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He looks off to the woods. “Plus, I believe there is a rat in your midst. I am sure you have noticed. If you tell me what you know, I’ll trap him for you.”

“You mean you’re not…” Your posture slightly relaxes, but soon firms up once again when you realize that you have two people following you now; Hisoka and your mysterious stalker.

“No. I’m not. So, will you accept my offer, darling?”

“Why does such information matter to you?”

Hisoka shakes his head, still smiling. “That doesn’t concern you, my dear. Now, tell me what you know if you don’t want the rest of the Troupe being here in a matter of mere hours.”

You’re happy here.

You’re happy here, being independent once again. You’re happy here, having stability and not fearing a sudden, gruesome death where you die alone with no one but your captor. You’re happy here, being able to find some humanity within yourself.

You’re happy here with Sebaste.

You’re happy here with Sebaste, who is in the house, blissfully unaware of the laurel crown placed on your head, its thorns digging deep into your skull and dying the tips of it crimson red. He doesn’t know of the invisible scars that mark your body, a gift from the very pits of hell’s flames.

He will remain in that place, never knowing of anything you have buried underground.

He will stay, no matter the cost you will have to pay.

You’re happy here with Sebaste, and you’re not going to let anyone take it away from you.

“Do we have a deal?”

The moment your lips part, the words that escape your mouth are the ones Hisoka longs to hear.

#yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #yandere hxh x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #hxh #chrollo lucilfer #hxh chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter #phantom troupe #chrollo lucilfer x reader #hier encore. #ultraviolet. #author aya

[bright-and-burning]

some highlights from this 2004 adam norris money marketing profile:

"There are few managing directors younger than Adam Norris of Pensions Direct, the pension arm of Hargreaves Lansdown. At 33, he has achieved a higher level in the industry than most do in their entire career." "Norris quips that early retirement would be readily available to him yet it is a very unattractive option. 'I do not believe in going to the office for the sake of it. I enjoy every day of my working life. I am lucky enough that my work is also my hobby. The day I stop enjoying it is the day I will retire.'" "He also takes his hobbies very seriously and, before entering financial services, spent a year in Europe pursuing a career as a tour cyclist. He trained in Belgium with the hope of becoming a serious competitor in the Tour de France. While not making it as a professional, he did come back to the UK with a new outlook and a wife." "Yet Norris maintains he still only works regular hours and prefers not to work later than 5.30pm if he can help it. He refuses to take work home. 'It is a matter of working smarter rather than harder, which is something we need a lot more of in the financial services world.'" "Comments like these demonstrate Norris's forthright pragmatism, that seems to stem from his structured, mathematical training as an engineer and his hard-work ethic, which he says is a result of growing up with dyslexia and needing to work things through. 'I have become very good at learning and observing the world through truly different eyes to everyone else. If you cannot spell, who cares? Working out solutions to difficult problems and understanding the world we live in is vastly more important.' This is a tenet he aims to pass on to his children through real-life experience. He has bought a small farm in the West Country where he has sheep and other animals. 'Real-life experience is most important for a good grounding in anything. I am always conscious that financial services is a world unto its own and, the more of the outside world you see, the saner and more balanced you are.'" "Education: BEng, University of Leicester Career: 1993-95 financial adviser, Acuma; 1995-98 IFA for small brokerages in Bath and Bristol; 1998-present managing director, Pensions Direct, the pension arm of Hargreaves Lansdown Career ambition: To be the biggest shareholder in Europe's biggest IFA Life ambition: To enjoy every day Hero: Doesn't have one Likes: Jam sandwiches Dislikes: Marmite Drives: Porsche 911 convertible"

#the bits i left out are more focused on him being goated at his job i guess #he's very interesting in his own right #and his career is (from what i can tell) out of the ordinary lol #more coming soon maybe. or well like #this is the personable bit. that has some parenting insights? the rest are interesting in terms of career tea tbh #which ill probs post some highlights from the other articles all in one post for myself lol #ln #(well. kind of) #lore #adam norris

[cartermagazine]

Today In History

John Singleton was a renowned screenwriter and director born in Los Angeles, California on January 6, 1968. His 1991 feature film debut, Boyz n the Hood, garnered an Academy Award nomination for Best Director and Best Original Screenplay.

Singleton followed with Poetic Justice in 1993 and Higher Learning in 1995. Subsequent works include 1997’s Rosewood, 2000’s Shaft remake, 2001’s Baby Boy and 2003’s 2 Fast 2 Furious. In 2005, he produced Hustle & Flow and directed Four Brothers.

John’s last creation Snowfall is an American crime drama television series set in Los Angeles, California in 1983.

CARTER™️ Magazine

#carter magazine #carter #historyandhiphop365 #wherehistoryandhiphopmeet #history #cartermagazine #today in history #staywoke #blackhistory #blackhistorymonth #john singleton

[cyarsk5230]

blackloveeeee

Oct 1

OMAR EPPS & TYRA BANKS Higher Learning (1995), dir. John Singleton

#higher learning #90sedit #omar epps #tyra banks #black love #blackloveedit #blacklove #blacklovegifs #90sblacklove #90s nostalgia #omareppsedit #tyrabanksedit #black tumblr #black excellence #black romance #blackactorsdaily #blackinmotionpictures

[v1pers1]

☆彡 VIPER is a five member boy group under OCEANA Entertainment. Starting out, their music got little to no attention until they released their hit song ‘Pretty Girl.’ Now, they’re known as the most successful boy group in the company and are constantly praised for the close bond the members share with each other.

☆彡 Members

☆彡 HAN JIHOON was born February 14, 1995, in Seoul, South Korea to a single mother. Being an only child, he grew up with a very close relationship to his mom and constantly took up small jobs to support them.

In High School, he was mainly focused on his grades and didn’t have many friends until a boy in his grade named ’Jeon Hajoon’ befriended him and convinced him to join the school’s dance club. When Jihoon graduated High School, Hajoon begged Jihoon to take him to OCEANA Entertainment to audition as a trainee.

During Hajoon's audition, an employee at the company scouted Jihoon and asked him to audition as an idol. At first, Jihoon refused the offer because his priority was to go to college and get a well-paying job to support his mother. However, after discussing it with his mom, she encouraged him to audition, so he decided to audition as a trainee.

In 2015, Jihoon debuted in VIPER as the group’s Leader, Lead Dancer, Sub Vocalist, and Visual. Known for his sweet personality and beautiful visuals, he gained the title of the Angel of Kpop.

╰┈➤ BASICS

STAGE NAME : JiHoon (지훈)

BIRTH NAME : Han Ji-Hoon (한지훈)

BIRTHDAY : February 14, 1995

BIRTHPLACE : Seoul, South Korea

HOMETOWN : Seoul, South Korea

ETHNICITY : Korean

NATIONALITY : Korean

ׂ╰┈➤ CAREER

PROFESSION : Idol

LABEL : OCEANA Entertainment

GROUP : VIPER

POSITIONS : Leader, Lead Dancer, Sub Vocalist, Visual

TRAINED : 2 years

FANDOM : Cupidz

ׂ╰┈➤ PHYSICAL

FACE CLAIM : Yoon Jeonghan

HEIGHT : 178 (5’10)

☆彡 JEON HAJOON was born on April 29, 1995 in Changwon, South Korea. From the second he could walk, he was obsessed with dancing and would take any chance he could to dance.

Despite his love for dance, his parents disapproved of his hobby and sent him to Seoul for High School to pursue a higher education. In school, he immediately joined the dance team even though his parents heavily disagreed with him about wanting to be a dancer.

After Graduating, he found himself obsessed with the idea of being an idol and dancing on stage, so he convinced his best friend ‘Han Jihoon’ to take him to OCEANA Entertainment so he could audition to be a trainee. After his audition, he got the news he’d be accepted to train under the company and was planned to debut in an upcoming boy group.

Hajoon debuted in VIPER on May 12, 2015 as the Main Dancer & Lead Rapper. He’s constantly praised for his dancing skills & energetic stage presence and is called one of the best performers of 3rd gen.

╰┈➤ BASICS

STAGE NAME : NOEL (노엘)

BIRTH NAME : Jeon Ha-Joon (전하준)

BIRTHDAY : April 29, 1995

BIRTHPLACE : Changwon, South Korea

HOMETOWN : Changwon, South Korea

ETHNICITY : Korean

NATIONALITY : Korean

ׂ╰┈➤ CAREER

PROFESSION : Idol

LABEL : OCEANA Entertainment

GROUP : VIPER

POSITIONS : Main Dancer, Sub Rapper, Sub Vocalist

TRAINED : 2 years

FANDOM : Hayangie

ׂ╰┈➤ PHYSICAL

FACE CLAIM : Kim Taehyung

HEIGHT : 179 cm (5’10)

☆彡 BAEK MINKI was born on January 19, 1996 in Ulsan, South Korea. Growing up, he was very into music, and even as a child, he knew he’d grow up to be a singer.

Minki took up learning instruments in middle school, and for fun, he decided to write and self-produce a song and post it on his YouTube channel. The song went viral, and he was almost immediately scouted by OCEANA to join the company as a trainee/producer.

As a trainee, he was known as the ace of the company and was able to produce some music for other artists in OCEANA. Minki debuted on May 12, 2015, in VIPER as the Main Producer, Main Vocalist, & Rapper. He’s gained a lot of popularity for his humble personality and for having produced over 100 songs in his career.

╰┈➤ BASICS

STAGE NAME : MIREU (미르)

BIRTH NAME : Baek Min-Ki (백민기)

BIRTHDAY : January 19, 1996

BIRTHPLACE : Ulsan, South Korea

HOMETOWN : Ulsan, South Korea

ETHNICITY : Korean

NATIONALITY : Korean

ׂ╰┈➤ CAREER

PROFESSION : Idol, Producer

LABEL : OCEANA Entertainment

GROUP : VIPER

POSITIONS : Main Vocalist, Producer, Rapper

TRAINED : 5 years

FANDOM : Kyumi

ׂ╰┈➤ PHYSICAL

FACE CLAIM : Kwon Soonyoung

HEIGHT : 178 cm (5’10)

☆彡 KANG SEUNGJIN was born September 3, 1997 in Daegu, South Korea. As a kid, he often did modeling jobs for clothing companies, and by the time he was in High School, he made a pretty big name for himself in the modeling industry.

When Seungjin turned 16, he decided he wanted to try out making music, so he moved away to Seoul and auditioned for OCEANA Entertainment; he got accepted and was one of the most popular trainees.

Seungjin debuted in VIPER on May 12, 2015 as the Main Rapper, Center, & Face of the Group. He’s known as the most popular member and super famous in Korea, yet he has a sweet personality and is a great person to hang out with.

╰┈➤ BASICS

STAGE NAME : SeungJin (승진)

BIRTH NAME : Kang Seung-Jin (강승진)

BIRTHDAY : September 3, 1997

BIRTHPLACE : Daegu, South Korea

HOMETOWN : Daegu, South Korea

ETHNICITY : Korean

NATIONALITY : Korean

ׂ╰┈➤ CAREER

PROFESSION : Idol, Model

LABEL : OCEANA Entertainment

GROUP : VIPER

POSITIONS : Main Rapper, Center, FOTG

TRAINED : 1 year

FANDOM : J-Stars

ׂ╰┈➤ PHYSICAL

FACE CLAIM : Lee Minho

HEIGHT : 172 cm (5’8)

☆彡 HONG JUNSEO was born on May 2, 1998 in Incheon, South Korea. Ever since he was young, he loved to sing, and as soon as he could, his dad signed him up for singing lessons.

Throughout his school years, Junseo always took the chance to sing in school musicals, and during one of the musicals, one of his classmates uploaded a video of him singing and it blew up almost overnight and he was offered a chance to be a trainee at OCEANA if he would move to Seoul.

He accepted the chance and moved to Seoul to become a trainee in 2015. Known as the all-rounder of the company, Junseo has the shortest training record out of every OCEANA Idol with him having trained for 1 month. Junseo debuted in Viper as the Lead Vocalist & Maknae on May 12, 2015.

╰┈➤ BASICS

STAGE NAME : JunSeo (준서)

BIRTH NAME : Hong Jun-Seo (홍준서)

BIRTHDAY : May 2, 1998

BIRTHPLACE : Incheon, South Korea

HOMETOWN : Incheon, South Korea

ETHNICITY : Korean

NATIONALITY : Korean

ׂ╰┈➤ CAREER

PROFESSION : Idol

LABEL : OCEANA Entertainment

GROUP : VIPER

POSITIONS : Lead Vocalist, Maknae

TRAINED : 1 month

FANDOM : SeoSeo’s

ׂ╰┈➤ PHYSICAL

FACE CLAIM : Lee Jaehyun

HEIGHT : 180 cm (5’11)

#THATS MY DESTINY [Members] #kpop oc #fictional kpop group #fictional idol community #fictional idol group #fake kpop group #fictional kpop company #fake kpop boy group #fictional kpop oc

[sophlamb]

Higher Learning (1995)

#higher learning #kristy swanson #jennifer connelly #wlw #lesbian #my gifs

[harlronica]

psychic/intuitive astro placements for Uranus

In Astrology, Uranus seeks to push past all limitations brought on by the planet Saturn. Uranus is the inventor of the solar system, and is associated with extremes, breakthroughs and breakdowns, limitlessness, and being an outsider. A Starseed origin in alignment here will be the origin aspect that is most assisting in your humanitarian mission and future aspects of your incarnations. 

Uranus is a generational planet that changes signs every seven years, and governs the sign of Aquarius. Those with Uranus in 1st, 4th, 7th, or 10th house have learned/passed the test of Saturn.

*Psychic/Intuitive Astrological placements for the planet Uranus* "I Evolve"

Uranus in Virgo: (1961-1969) this time sparked a yearning for greater physical and psychic healing along with a more developed intuition being brought forth. Especially if aligned with the Corvus stargate which runs along the Virgo degrees.

Uranus in Sagittarius: (1981-1988) intuitive, prophetic, and optimistic. Especially if aligned with the Lyra or Shaula stargate which runs along the Sagittarius degrees.

Uranus in Aquarius: (1995-2003) provided a stronger interest in the metaphysical fields- most comfortable here in its home sign. Strengthens intuition/psychic abilities if other strong intuitive/psychic aspects are found in the natal chart. Especially if aligned with the Andromeda Galaxy which runs along the Aquarius/Pisces degrees.

Uranus in Pisces: (2003-2010) brings in the incarnation of those who are spiritually intuitive and are able to grasp knowledge of spiritual truths. Very spiritually psychic if in alignment with the Andromeda Galaxy which runs along the Aquarius/Pisces degrees.

Uranus in 1st house: visionary and intuitive. These chart holders are likely to be born with a natural ability to change the world if their visionary abilities are used in beneficial ways. Especially if Uranus is running along an Aries degree which is connected to the Pleiades stargate. They have passed the test of Saturn.

Uranus in 4th house: intuitive and sensitive. These chart holders are likely to be natural healers and nurturers. Especially if Uranus is running along a Cancer degree which is connected to the Sirius and Hydra stargate. They have passed the test of Saturn.

Uranus in 5th house: unique, unconventional, artistic, and creative. Likely to be very intuitive and serve as creative catalysts (especially if Uranus is running along a Leo degree which is connected to the Regulus stargate- The Family of Archangel Raphael.)

Uranus in 7th house: these chart holders are meant to act as mirrors for the collective. This placement signifies that these chart holders are "ahead of their time." They have passed the test of Saturn. They bring on great catalytic change and are usually quite intuitive. Especially if Uranus is running along a Libra degree which is connected to the Arcturian stargate.

Uranus in 8th house: brings in a very strong psychic feeling as well as a keen intuition. These chart holders are likely to naturally transform the collective and their own collective experience. Especially if Uranus is running along a Scorpio degree which is connected to the Antares stargate- The Family of Archangel Uriel.

Uranus in 9th house: intuitive and visionary. Unconventional and naturally philosophical people. Mind expansion and higher learning comes easily to these chart holders and they have well-developed instincts. Especially if Uranus is running along a Sagittarius degree which is connected to the Lyra stargate.

Uranus in 11th house: most comfortable here in its home house. Similar to Uranus in the 7th house- these chart holders are considered to be "ahead of their time." Very intuitive people who can connect easily with (and transform) the collective. Natural innovators. Especially if Uranus is running along an Aquarius degree which is connected to the Andromeda stargate/galaxy.

Uranus in 12th house: psychic and intuitive. These chart holders have a natural desire and ability to change the world. They're likely to be born with great spiritual power and knowledge as Uranus in the 12th house signifies having your freedom and independence stripped away in a past life. Many past life famous activists are likely to have this placement. These people were born with the ability to make the world a better place. If other intuitive/psychic aspects/positions are present in the chart then these chart holders have great healing abilities and spiritual power which is repressed due to being in a lower dimensional realm. This is especially true if Uranus is running along a Pisces degree which is connected to the Andromeda stargate/galaxy.

Note: not all astrological placements for Uranus are listed. If your Uranus house/sign is not listed that does not mean that you do not have other intuitive/psychic indicators in your chart. Everybody has intuitive and psychic placements to one degree or another in their astrological chart. This is why it is important to refer to the entire astrological chart as a whole! <3

What house/sign is your Uranus in? Note below! Mine's in 7th house Aquarius! :)

For business inquiries please email [email protected] ! I'm currently offering Full Starseed Origin chart readings for $30 and Half Starseed Origin chart readings for $20 which is a shorter reading than what you receive with the Full Origin reading. I accept paypal/venmo and do not require payment until after the reading.

What you will receive in each reading:

Full Starseed Origin Reading: for $30 you will receive a list of each Starseed origin that is found within your astrological natal chart. You will also receive a full detailed description of where each Starseed origin is located at in your natal chart and what this means for you; along with a detailed description of the meaning behind each Starseed origin. For this reading it is required that you provide your exact time and date of birth (M/D/Y) along with birth location. The timing for this reading can range anywhere between 1-3 days due to the thoroughness of the reading.

Half Starseed Origin Reading: for $20 you will receive a list of each Starseed origin that is found in your astrological natal chart along with a detailed description of the meaning behind each origin. You will not receive a detailed description of where each origin is located and what it means for you as you would with the Full Starseed Origin Reading. For this reading it is also required that you provide your exact time and date of birth (M/D/Y) along with your birth location. The timing for this reading is usually within the same day requested.

#uranus #uranus in virgo #uranus in sagittarius #uranus in aquarius #uranus in pisces #uranus in 1st #uranus in 4th #uranus in 5th #uranus in 7th house #uranus in 8th house #uranus in 9th house #uranus in 11th house #uranus in the 12th house #psychic #intuitive #spiritual #spirituality #spiritual journey #spiritual growth #astro notes #astrology tumblr #astrology #astrology chart #birth chart reading #chart readings #birth chart #natal chart #starseeds #stargate #andromeda

[roseaceae]

and i won't forget to put roses on your grave

 ִֶָ ᯽ .ﾟEVERY ROSE has its thorn ╱ meet the circle of blue rose ╱ tw for mentions of verbal abuse, neglect, drug use, death, and bullying

on a cold christmas morning in a buzzing hospital, bae minseok was born in incheon, south korea to a educated and ambitious firefighter for a mother, but with a cowardly and insecure data entry clerk father. it was quiet growing up, due mostly to the fact that he was not the most sociable, considering that mom and dad weren't home during the day, and minseok spent most of his afternoons distracting himself with boring yet interesting extracurriculars, the relationship between him and his parents wasn't really anything for the first eleven years of his life.

his parents' relationship slowly became unconventional, they became not only a problem for their son, but for each other. it was a norm for minseok to listen to the constant back and forth between his mother and father, and it amazed him to think that those two were once in love. he would listen to all his fathers stupid theories, oh no his wife had a promising career ahead of her? how disturbing! i should turn our son against her! after the first few years of his parents back and forth bickering, minseok decided to turn to something else to get his mind off everything.

in one of his previous extracurriculars, he learned how to play several instruments, but none of them interested him as much as the good old guitar did. if there was anything that could get his mind off the incessant shit talking his parents would do to each other, it was the beauty of the chords he produced on the stringed instrument. playing the guitar, to him, was just a coping mechanism, nothing too serious and nothing meant to be taken any further than a hobby, a thing he did when all the shouting was too much for him.

it wasn't until a friend, a very specific friend, nudged him one day and suggested that he auditioned for a company, at even the sound of those words, an immediate laugh escaping his lips as soon as his friend uttered them. what could he even do besides play one instrument and sing just a little well? what was he supposed to do with his lack of talent? (in his opinion, of course) every company would turn their backs on him, send him out of the door the moment he walked through those doors, but no matter how much he dispelled the words, his friends kept urging him and urging him to at least try to audition, because they just had an inkling that he would make it in.

after the constant harassment from his friends, minseok would roll his eyes and step into the audere media building on an early august morning in 2012, and like his friends predicted, he passed, with much surprise to himself. now— he knew about the shady reputation under the company, but he had also been promised to debut, a promise that would be fulfilled after four years, several lineup changes, and the loss of close friends he'd made in the corner of the practice room. over the four years he found himself trapped in the practice room of a shady company, minseok would lose, then gain, then lose some more hope, he had been accepted into the company for his talents, but he felt as if they were never truly considered by the higher ups. he often felt as if everyone was disregarding him, and he'd never be considered to even debut.

after all the work, the long nights spent in the practice room, and the hundreds of times he almost quit, minseok would finally find his place, with a group of people who understood him, for him, debuting in blue rose was one of the best things in his life, but he'd never admit that to his members, he remains stubborn.

ʬʬ . THE BASICS !⠀

STAGE NAME CUPID ( 큐핏 )

BIRTH NAME BAE MINSEOK ( 배민석 )

DATE OF BIRTH DECEMBER 25, 1995

PLACE OF BIRTH INCHEON, SOUTH KOREA

HOMETOWN INCHEON, SOUTH KOREA

NATIONALITY SOUTH KOREAN

ETHNICITY KOREAN

ʬʬ . THE CAREER !⠀

OCCUPATION SINGER-SONGWRITER, GUITARIST

LABELS AUDERE MEDIA ( 2012 — 2016 ) LUXE DESIGN ( 2016 — present )

TRAINING PERIOD 4 YEARS 6 MONTHS

POSITION LEAD VOCALIST, RHYTHM GUITARIST

DEBUT DATE FEBRUARY 13, 2016

ʬʬ . THE PHYSICAL !⠀

FACE CLAIM YOON JEONGHAN

HEIGHT 178 CM ( 5'10" )

WEIGHT UNKNOWN

BLOOD TYPE B

on a snowy february evening in hat yai, thailand, vidura sukkasem came into this world angry, an emotion which would become a staple for him throughout his life. often compared to a "ticking time bomb", the fury he had seemingly been born with wouldn't disappear with age like his parents had hoped for. instead it manifested into something more, something which would become a liability to his parents. he had not been showered with the same kind of love as his siblings, he was often "too much" for the adults in his life to handle, so as a result, he began to lash out.

his emotions would range from angry, to frustrated, to absolutely fucking pissed directed towards everybody. he eventually became a problem, so much of a problem that his parents had "no other choice" but to ship him off to some boarding school for troubled children, hoping that the harsh lessons would put him in shape, but the schools, just like his parents, stated he was "too much to handle" and he eventually became nothing but your no good troubled teen stereotype (not so much troubled, he just lacked the attention children so needed from their parents). he would battle his own demons all on his own, he didn't need friends, he'd already gotten this far with his parents not giving two shits about him, whilst his siblings pretended he was never there, it was no surprise to anyone that he wasn't interested in the whole making friends part of life.

his personal interests would all be a little wishy washy, from snowboarding, to composition, to dancing, and finally, the guitar (specifically the electric guitar). vidura would stay up all night watching performances from popular rock bands, watching as they did their thing, so effortlessly, he knew that teaching himself how to play such an instrument would be a challenge, but he was never one to give up. having been inspired by bands such as aerosmith, van halen, and of course, queen, the second eldest would find himself borrowing his coworkers' instruments to test them out, just until he could save enough money to buy his dream guitar. over the next few months, not only would he almost completely learn how to play the electric guitar, and keyboard on his own, but he also did some considering, and that considering would eventually manifest into a want, he wanted to be in a band.

even with the constant remarks, chortles, and snickers from family, vidura wouldn't just halt with what he'd wanted for so long, who were they to talk about his life? when they did nothing but cast him aside? it seemed idiotic to him, which he had no problem voicing, yeah it lead to a less-than-stellar altercation between him and a few cousins, but he would say it was all for a good cause. it seemed that his prayers would be answered, when a scout from a familiar (then still) small record label szene vinyl stopped him on the street, having recognized him from a video his manager had posted online, he almost didn't accept the scouts offer, convinced they were a scam, or some sort of cult trying to brainwash him.

but after pondering for a good week, continuously staring at the business card in his hand, he'd try at the audition, even with the way he was clearly nervous, stumbling through the little korean he knew, and uncomfortable under the stare of so many strangers, he would pass, he likes to think it was a miracle, or the clear passion that seemed to ooze around him, or maybe they were just pitying, to this day, he will never truly know why he actually passed.

everything seemed to fast track after that, the titular thai 'wannabe rockstar' (that's what dione calls him, rich), would go through several practice rooms, sleepless nights, two almost life ending injuries, arguments with dance instructors and his fellow trainees, as well as a few predictable breakdowns and broken nails. if vidura is anything, it's a fighter, he wasn't about to be tossed out by this company for being "a nuisance" like he'd been by his parents and the tens of schools in the past. he doesn't care if he fought tooth or nail to be in that lineup, he did it because he deserved it, and he knows that better than anyone else.

ʬʬ . THE BASICS !⠀

STAGE NAME JUNIPER ( 향나무 )

BIRTH NAME VIDURA SUKKASEM ( วิฑูรา สุขเกษม )

DATE OF BIRTH FEBRUARY 18, 1996

PLACE OF BIRTH HAT YAI, THAILAND

HOMETOWN HAT YAI, THAILAND

NATIONALITY THAI

ETHNICITY THAI

ʬʬ . THE CAREER !⠀

OCCUPATION DANCER, COMPOSER, GUITARIST, DRUMMER

LABELS SZENE VINYL ( 2012 — 2016 ) LUXE DESIGN ( 2016 — present )

TRAINING PERIOD 4 YEARS

POSITION MAIN DANCER, VOCALIST, LEAD GUITARIST

DEBUT DATE FEBRUARY 13, 2016

ʬʬ . THE PHYSICAL !⠀

FACE CLAIM CHITTAPHON LEECHAIYAPORNKUL

HEIGHT 176 CM ( 5'9" )

WEIGHT UNKNOWN

BLOOD TYPE O

on a blinding july afternoon, noh hyeon (though originally born noh jaewoong) was born in the heart of daejeon, south korea to a freelance photographer of a mother, one who had such a bright imagination, an ambitious future ahead of her, well— not before she got pregnant with her previously named son, and dumped by her college school boyfriend, who stated he just couldn't "take care of a child with all of his other responsibilities". so, at 22 years old, no college degree, only $1000 under her belt and a whole child under her care, she'd try her best to maneuver through life, and give her son the best life he could ever ask for.

for most of his life, hyeon could recall his mother being unhappy, she'd try to cover it with fake smiles and laughs, but he always secretly knew it. he wished he could help her, but he could do nothing but watch her suffer in silence, as he was just a defenseless child. he would stay up all night thinking, dreaming of a day where he could finally save his mother from the suffering she was put through trying to raise him, he prayed that one day he would find success in a field which would help him provide for her. it was no surprise to anyone who met him that hyeon had quite the imagination, the only things at the forefront of his mind being caring for his mother and his one true dream—

becoming an idol.

baby v.o.x, shinhwa, and of course, h.o.t became big inspirations for the soon to be leader, well, as much as an inspiration as they were an escape. he recalls sitting down at home and watching in fascination as the idols did their thing, so effortlessly, so flawlessly, dressed in stage outfits he could only dream of wearing. for most of his life, though, he only thought that dream would stay like that, a dream, something he could fantasize about in his mind but never truly fulfill, though his mom would enroll him in dance practices, singing lessons, and do all sorts of karaoke in the living room, he never actually thought he would make it, it all seemed like an actual thing he'd accomplish.

but it'd all go to his head, it'd become his main focus, something he couldn't stop thinking about. it got to the point that he couldn't focus on school, too busy thinking about being one of those idols, singing and dancing catchy songs on a stage, loved by the korean public.

it seemed that his mother could see right through the act he was putting up, and she didn't hesitate to drop a train ticket in front of him on a random day, telling him to audition either now or never. though very puzzled by the sudden way his mother decided to tell him to go audition like he'd been itching to, but he knew this was a once in a lifetime chance. so, with adrenaline coursing through his veins, a fourteen year old hyeon hopped on a train and took the whole two hour ride from daejeon to seoul, shaking nervously the whole entire time. he would walk into that audere media building and never look back, his future somehow decided for him in that very moment.

of course, the six years spent in that company were nothing short of hellish, like all of the members, who once considered quitting and going back home, feeling as if he had been wrong at what he thought he wanted to do with his life. it took so much perseverance, encouraging words from (ironically) minseok and remembering what his mother told him to not walk out of those doors and flip the bird at absolutely every person who worked there. it would all eventually be for good, even if he was stuck with the position of bass guitarist, one he wasn't truly keen on receiving (he was much more skilled in terms of the keyboardist position, he even would've settled for being the drummer). still, he'd persevere, spending almost two and a half years working on his skills as a guitarist, he has the lovely juniper and lim jaesang to thank for that.

ʬʬ . THE BASICS !⠀

STAGE NAME HYEON ( 현 )

BIRTH NAME NOH JAEWOONG ( 노재웅 )

LEGAL NAME NOH HYEON ( 노현 )

DATE OF BIRTH JULY 27, 1996

PLACE OF BIRTH DAEJEON, SOUTH KOREA

HOMETOWN DAEJEON, SOUTH KOREA

NATIONALITY SOUTH KOREAN

ETHNICITY KOREAN

ʬʬ . THE CAREER !⠀

OCCUPATION SINGER-SONGWRITER, RAPPER, KEYBOARDIST, GUITARIST

LABELS AUDERE MEDIA ( 2010 — 2016 ) LUXE DESIGN ( 2016 — present )

TRAINING PERIOD 6 YEARS 2 MONTHS

POSITION LEADER, LEAD VOCALIST, LEAD RAPPER, BASS GUITARIST

DEBUT DATE FEBRUARY 13, 2016

ʬʬ . THE PHYSICAL !⠀

FACE CLAIM CHO SEUNGYOUN

HEIGHT 186 CM ( 6'1" )

WEIGHT UNKNOWN

BLOOD TYPE A-

born with what is described as a "natural aura of bad luck" on a rainy may day in ulsan, south korea, ji hansaem was never a blessed child, stuck in the middle of seven other children, he was quickly tossed aside in favor of his less fortunate siblings (which he easily understood, they all needed to be taken care of), so from a young age, he seemed to always be on his own. his three older siblings were either much older or found him boring, whilst his three younger siblings were too young and suffering with life-altering diseases, disabilities, or simply disadvantages. it was no surprise to anyone that the lack of attention from at home caused him to start acting out, taking his anger out on anyone and anything, often resulting in his knuckles ending up bruised.

wherever hansaem went, trouble seemed to follow. it was always chalked up to his horrible situation at home and the fact that he seemed to be the only one of all seven children to inherit his father's angers issues, so he never found any actual help for the constant frustration he felt towards strangers who'd done nothing to him. so, he looked to other ways of coping, because if none of the adults in his life would try to help him, he was going to try to help himself, even if it would take so much time.

the leftover anger he decided to not channel into fistfights would instead be channeled into newfound instruments, namely rapping, dancing, and his mission to be able to play at least 10 instruments by the time he was 30. rapping was always an interest of his, time not spent at home (due to how the apartment had literally a whole village living there), would be spent in his close friends sihyuk's garage, taking free sample beats from not always legal website and rapping over them. he wasn't good at it in the beginning, which he clearly states every chance he gets, but as long as he was left alone with his thoughts and a random beat before him, he could come up with anything (but he would never be considered for the rapper position until last minute).

hansaem doesn't exactly know why, or what kind of confidence had overtaken him at that very moment, but he found himself walking into a familiar company on a horribly humid day in august of 2011, sm entertainment (not sure if you've heard of them or not..), but with all shock, he passed, and he found himself in a mundane day-to-day routine full of practice rooms and gossip about if he would debut in the upcoming nct. unfortunately, his popularity as an sm rookies members didn't immediately mean he was going to be a member, which was clearly hinted at him by the actions of his beloved former company. not wanting to waste his time rotting away in a company that didn't really give two shits about him, he would exit after only 1 year of training, but all hope would not be lost, as he would quickly be approached by szene vinyl with an offer that he just couldn't refuse, of course it meant he had to be stuck around just the single most annoying person ever (i.e juniper), but if it meant debuting, so be it!

ʬʬ . THE BASICS !⠀

STAGE NAME DIONE ( 디오네 )

BIRTH NAME JI HANSAEM ( 지한샘 )

DATE OF BIRTH MAY 23, 1997

PLACE OF BIRTH ULSAN, SOUTH KOREA

HOMETOWN ULSAN, SOUTH KOREA

NATIONALITY SOUTH KOREAN

ETHNICITY KOREAN

ʬʬ . THE CAREER !⠀

OCCUPATION RAPPER, DANCER, DRUMMER

LABELS SM ENTERTAINMENT ( 2011 — 2012 ) SZENE VINYL ( 2012 — 2016 ) LUXE DESIGN ( 2016 — present )

TRAINING PERIOD 4 YEARS

POSITION MAIN RAPPER, LEAD DANCER, DRUMMER

DEBUT DATE FEBRUARY 13, 2016

ʬʬ . THE PHYSICAL !⠀

FACE CLAIM YOO TAEYANG

HEIGHT 181 CM ( 5'11" )

WEIGHT UNKNOWN

BLOOD TYPE B

on a cloudy autumn afternoon in jeju city, south korea, jeon yunseok was born as the second of three children, stuck in the middle and becoming the only boy born in his family after 25 years of just girls being born. from the get go, his family members knew there was something special about him, he had a bright smile and seemingly bulletproof optimism, nobody could ever wear him down, he was just strong like that. he was born naturally sociable, always ready to talk to people, never seen without a smile on his face. yunseok was a boy full of dreams, dreams he wouldn't discard until he at least excelled in one of the fields.

one of his biggest dreams included being an idol, and he would find that dream coming true when he debuted in the former "child" idol group DVIX in 2010, being only twelve at the time. now, the whole thing about the group was that the members would graduate when they were eighteen, then a whole new lineup of boys would show up and repeat the process, but it wouldn't be all smooth sailing. for starters, the lineup was full of children, and children are mean, his fellow members wouldn't think twice before deciding to torment every waking day of yunseok's life, his groupmates found it amusing to call him names, whilst his former company found it entertaining to overwork him with stupid brand deals and acting gigs. all he ever truly wanted to do was be an idol, but he had members who made it unbearable and a company that decided to make him do everything but that.

so, yunseok confided in his parents about the whole situation and they weren't any happy, they immediately removed him from the group in 2013 and sued his former company for child endangerment. the most he knows is that they did eventually get paid, he just doesn't know the specific amount they did. his dreams of being an idol wouldn't falter, though, because he would go on and audition for another company, namely audere media, and with his previous expertise in the idol industry, it was no surprise that he passed.

he would never say that his time in the practice room of audere media was a "horrible one", compared to his previous label, they seemed like angels. of course, his bright personality and constant optimism was still meant with hostility from fellow trainees, but most of them actually liked him, cherished him even. he was known as the "unofficial therapist", as he was an amazing listener and advisor. his shiny reputation would carry on to when he debuted, known as the "brightest member of blue rose".

ʬʬ . THE BASICS !⠀

STAGE NAME YUNSEOK ( 윤석 )

BIRTH NAME JEON YUNSEOK ( 전윤석 )

DATE OF BIRTH SEPTEMBER 25, 1998

PLACE OF BIRTH JEJU CITY, JEJU ISLAND, SOUTH KOREA

HOMETOWN JEJU CITY, JEJU ISLAND, SOUTH KOREA

NATIONALITY SOUTH KOREAN

ETHNICITY KOREAN

ʬʬ . THE CAREER !⠀

OCCUPATION RAPPER, DANCER, VOCALIST, KEYBOARDIST

LABELS HAZE2! ( 2009 — 2012 ) AUDERE MEDIA ( 2013 — 2016 ) LUXE DESIGN ( 2016 — present )

TRAINING PERIOD 7 YEARS 2 MONTHS

POSITION LEAD RAPPER, SUB-VOCALIST, KEYBOARDIST

DEBUT DATE JULY 1, 2010 ╱ FEBRUARY 13, 2016

ʬʬ . THE PHYSICAL !⠀

FACE CLAIM LEE JAEHYUN

HEIGHT 182 CM ( 5'11" )

WEIGHT UNKNOWN

BLOOD TYPE AB

on a seemingly random november day, right as the month was coming to a close, song rinhyo (though he is preferred to be called riley) was born in rochester, new york, as the eldest of four children. his mother- a desirous music teacher who dreamed of doing more with her life, and his father- an equally determined children's book illustrator who was trying his hardest to recover from a once almost life threatening addiction. his father was a man who, like everyone, made mistakes, and had many regrets he wished he could've taken back before his inevitable demise. he would die when riley was only 4, leaving the love of his life and three kids behind (along with a fourth one who would unfortunately be born after his funeral).

as a child, helping around the house was never a foreign concept to him, considering his mother had now become a single parent and didn't have a partner available to watch over the kids anymore. riley would take over the position as "surrogate parent" with ease, mostly because he had a natural instinct to protect everyone younger than him, his siblings are his lifeline, he'd go to any lengths to protect them, so much so that he basically became their parent for a good chunk of their lives. he'd make them breakfast, take them to school, then go to school himself, pick them up from school and proceed to take care of them at home. his routine was a mundane one, the same thing every single day.

as a child, singing was always something he was interested in. his mother was a music teacher, the person who taught him everything he knows about how to advance his vocals, as well as play his two main instruments (the guitar and drums). he would often sing his siblings to sleep, though always begrudgingly due to the fact that he never really enjoyed singing in front of people that weren't teachers or his mother, believing he wasn't exactly amazing or that he would embarrass himself. he always described his skills as "mediocre", he was just your regular guy who enjoyed singing on some occasions and playing guitar solos for fun.

everything would come to a stop when, without him knowing, his younger brother noah would send a video of him singing the song (and playing the guitar instrumental) stairway to heaven by led zeppelin to szene vinyl as an audition tape. he had previously tried to convince the older to audition for the company, having read that they were accepting trainees from everywhere around the world, riley, though he clearly wanted to audition, refused profusely each time due to the fact that he didn't exactly want to just up and leave his family to chase some idol dream that probably wouldn't come true considering his odds. he wouldn't even know until his siblings brought it up to him awkwardly, he swears he almost punched them in the face when learning what they did, but he was even more shocked to know that his audition was accepted, he passed.

riley thought about it for a long time, talked about it with his mom for several days, but she persuaded him, and a decision was eventually made. in a matter of two weeks after his brother had sent that video to szene vinyl without him knowing, he was now on a plane to seoul, able to fulfill a dream he once thought would be impossible to. after arriving at the building for the first time in 2013, he would eventually train for 3 years until he got the chance to debut in blue rose, as their maknae, and as the only member with two instrumental positions. he often thinks his debut was only due to the fact that his best friend, louyoung, left the company, he often feels undeserving of his position, but the members and his family never fail to remind him that he deserves what he has.

ʬʬ . THE BASICS !⠀

STAGE NAME CERES ( 케레스 )

BIRTH NAME RILEY KIERYN SONG

KOREAN NAME SONG RINHYO ( 송린효 )

DATE OF BIRTH NOVEMBER 28, 1998

PLACE OF BIRTH ROCHESTER, NEW YORK, USA

HOMETOWN ROCHESTER, NEW YORK, USA

NATIONALITY AMERICAN

ETHNICITY KOREAN

ʬʬ . THE CAREER !⠀

OCCUPATION SINGER-SONGWRITER, GUITARIST, DRUMMER

LABELS SZENE VINYL ( 2013 — 2016 ) LUXE DESIGN ( 2016 — present )

TRAINING PERIOD 3 YEARS 7 MONTHS

POSITION MAIN VOCALIST, LEAD GUITARIST, DRUMMER

DEBUT DATE FEBRUARY 13, 2016

ʬʬ . THE PHYSICAL !⠀

FACE CLAIM JUNG WOOKJIN

HEIGHT 177 CM ( 5'10" )

WEIGHT UNKNOWN

BLOOD TYPE O

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[fxirysforesight]

Hi

So I am basically new to astrology so can you just tell me somethings about it ?

The only thing which I know is just zodiac sign .

And have good day or good night whatever it is .

Astrology Basics:

Elements: There are Four Elements in Astrology. Each Element has 4 Zodiac Signs.

Fire Signs:

Air Signs:

Water Signs:

Earth Signs:

Modalities: Modalities are the way Zodiac signs present their energy. There are 3 Modalities in Astrology. Fixed, Cardinal, and Mutable.

Fixed: Scorpio, Taurus, Leo, Aquarius

Cardinal: Cancer, Capricorn, Aries, Libra

Mutable: Gemini, Sagittarius, Virgo, Pisces

Degrees: Each Zodiac Sign has 2 or 3 Degrees that they rule;

Aries - 1, 13, 25

Taurus - 2, 14, 26

Gemini - 3, 15, 27

Cancer - 4, 16, 28

Leo - 5, 17, 29

Virgo - 6, 18

Libra - 7, 19

Scorpio - 8, 20

Sagittarius - 9, 21

Capricorn - 10, 22

Aquarius - 11, 23

Pisces - 12, 24

Inner Planets: Planets that affect YOU as a person.

Sun - Ego, Personality, Spirit, Father

Moon - Emotions, Psyche, Internal Compass, Mother

Rising - Dependent on your birth time. It shows how you navigate the world.

Mercury - Communication, Ideas, Intelligence, Siblings,

Venus - Romance, Pleasure, Desires, Aesthetic Taste

Mars - Passion, Drive, Energy, Action

Generational Planets: Planets that affect an entire generation of people.

Uranus - Innovation, Eccentricity, Unpredictability, Revolution

Neptune - Spirituality, Intuition, Dreams, Delusions

Pluto - Transformations, Rebirth and Renewal, Growth, Destruction

Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto are all generational planets. Because of how slow they move, they are present in a specific sign for up to 30 years. For example, people born from 1995 - 2008 are part of the Pluto in Sagittarius, people born from 2003 - 2010 are part of the Uranus in Pisces, and people born from 1998 to 2012 are part of the Neptune in Aquarius generation.

Outer Planets:

Jupiter - Luck, Higher Learning, Wisdom, Prosperity

Saturn - Karma, Productivity, Discipline, Obligations, Prosperity

Orbs: Orbs are the distance at which planets aspect each other. Every astrologer uses different orbs but I personally would not go over 10 as most astrologers don't. My limit would be around 5 degrees, with orbs 3 and under being the most significant.

Hard Aspects: Aspects that cause tension and confusion in a chart.

In Order These Signs Are: Square, Opposition, Conjunction.

Square - This aspect happens in signs that are 90 Degrees from each other; An easy way to remember this is that Fire and Water do not mix, and Air and Earth do not mix. Therefore Water and Fire Signs will Square each other, and Air and Earth Signs will Square each other.

Conjunction - A mixing of energies. This is why it is called a Hard Aspect. You can take on the positive or negative energies of this aspect depending on the planets involved. The Conjunction is an aspect that comes from the joining of planets in one sign, and could sometimes happen out of sign as well. For example, Two Scorpio Sun's at 2 Degrees and 3 Degrees would be Conjunct. However, a Scorpio Sun at 29 degrees, and a Libra Sun at 1 Degree would also be Conjunct. This is called an Out of Sign Aspect.

Opposition - This aspect exists in signs that are roughly 180 Degrees, or Opposite from each other;

Aries - Libra

Gemini - Sagittarius

Pisces - Virgo

Cancer - Capricorn

Scorpio - Taurus

Aquarius - Leo

Easy Aspects:

Trine - This aspect occurs in signs that are roughly 120 Degrees from each other. Signs that are Trine, are signs that are in the same Element. Because of this, Trines bring harmony and luck and they require little effort as well. These signs are;

Aries - Sagittarius - Leo

Gemini - Libra - Aquarius

Taurus - Virgo - Capricorn

Pisces - Cancer - Scorpio

Sextile - This aspect occurs in signs that are roughly 60 Degrees from each other. Signs that are trine are in SUPPORTING elements. The easiest way to remember this is that Air and Fire support each other, and Earth and Water support each other. Sextiles bring balance and camaraderie. They also represent untapped energy. These signs are;

Aries - Sagittarius - Leo - Libra - Aquarius - Gemini

Taurus - Virgo - Capricorn - Scorpio - Pisces - Cancer

I hope this helps! <33

#🍓 fairytalks #astrology