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star--joy · 2 years

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Artist’s Muse - Perc’ahlia

Percy, unsatisfied with Vex's refusal to buy the pair of earrings she wants, makes some himself. Somehow, he lands himself a date in the process.

Day two of the AU-gust challenge. Prompt: Artist's Muse.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: None

Words: 2273

Originally posted: 8/5/22

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40815714

Percy wouldn’t normally consider himself an artist. An inventor, yes, and a brilliant one at that. The word artist, however, holds certain connotations that he doesn’t feel are accurate. Art isn’t meant to be purely functional, which his inventions are. Even his drawings are more meant to document than to perform.

It doesn’t bother him. He’s far more suited to a practical life. Always has been, even as a royal child. So, no, it doesn’t bother him that he's not an artist.

Most of the time, at least.

Vex’ahlia, though, always seems to make him break his own rules. Like right now, as she eyes the pricy piece of jewelry from across the boutique, envy swirling in those mesmerizing hazel eyes. For her credit, the set of earrings are beautiful, dazzling blue gems embedded into glittering gold. They would suit her perfectly.

Of course, she won’t buy them, not with that price tag. Even her bargaining skills wouldn’t be able to bring them down to a reasonable cost. So Vex settles for letting her gaze linger every time she gets a moment.

Percy doesn’t like it, the pucker between her brows as she walks out of the shop. He could, of course, buy it with his own funds as a gift, but Vex might never forgive him for paying such an atrocious price, so he tries to push it out of his mind as he trails behind the rest of the party.

That proves to be a challenge. He can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she would look in them, in large part due to the smile she’d no doubt wear. It makes his fingers itch.

“I’ll be right back,” he announces to the party, taking a sharp right at the next turn. “I have a few errands to run.”

“Oh,” Vex says, looking at him curiously. She’s too good at picking up on subtleties. “Anything interesting?”

Percy shakes his head. “Unfortunately not. I need to get a few parts for my Pepperbox.”

Keen eyes stare into his soul, definitely aware that the gunslinger is lying through his teeth. Vex doesn’t push, though, and he thanks the gods for it. “Have fun, Darling,” she simply says, throwing in a sly wink.

A red hot blush rises in Percy’s face, but he walks away before Vex can catch sight of it.

His errands don’t take long, and he arrives at Greyskull keep before the rest of his party is done with their shopping. Good, that allows him to slip into his workshop without interruption. Pulling out the items he’d purchased, Percy gets to work.

It’s harder than he expected, crafting jewelry from scratch. Perhaps Percy should have done some prior research. After his sixth or so failed attempt, he’s almost ready to throw in the towel, suck it up and just buy Vex the goddamn earrings. Surely she won’t mind that much if he uses his own funds?

Percy rubs his chin thoughtfully, feeling the growing stubble under his calloused fingers. This is all foolish. Vex has probably already forgotten about the damn earrings.

But, fuck, Percy wants to make her smile.

“Percy, Darling, are you alright? You’ve been down there all day,” Vex herself calls from outside the door to his workshop, startling him so much his knee jerks up and hits his work table. “Won’t you come get some food?”

“In a minute, Vex,” he responds, grabbing some more supply. Surely one more attempt won’t hurt.

But Vex isn’t done, apparently. “For someone who prides himself on being polite, you don’t tell the truth very often.”

He snorts. “Being polite is the opposite of telling the truth.”

“Seriously, dear, you can’t hole yourself up forever.” Curse her and her persistence. “If you’re not up in ten minutes, I’m coming back down,” she announces, followed by the sound of her retreating footsteps.

Ten minutes. Percy can get a lot done in ten minutes. Surely he won’t lose track of time.

Except it only feels like it’s been seconds of crafting the earrings when the door to his workshop slams open, Vex not even bothering to knock. “You’re so stubborn, Percy. It’s really quite a flaw.”

Trying to hide his current project by hunching over his workbench, Percy scoffs. “You’re not exactly one to talk, Vex.”

“Hush,” the archer demands, stepping around his workbench and wiping away a spot for her to sit on the opposite side. Two plates are set down. “Now, because you’re such a loner and refuse to eat with the group, I have to make sure that you actually do get enough nutrients to keep yourself alive. Eat up.” One plate full of steaming food is passed in his direction.

Percy blinks. It’s such a small thing, one that he might have found offensive if anyone else did it. He does not need a babysitter. With Vex, though, he feels flattered that she cares enough to make sure he’s taking care of himself. “Well, thank you.”

She softens, eyes crinkling around the edges with her smile. “Of course, Darling.” Leaning back in her chair, she throws her legs up onto his workbench and begins eating.

“Did everything go smoothly today? I do apologize for not being there to try and tame the lot, somewhat,” Percy says in between bites of food.

Vex laughs. “Percy, you are a man of many skills, but I do not believe even you can tame them. On the bright side, we only got kicked out of one pub.”

“That’s certainly an improvement.” Their last outing without Percy had resulted in three bar fights and one permanent ban from the nearest tavern. Perhaps next time, they'll manage to get through the whole night without issue.

Probably not, but Percy can dream.

“You know, you provide much better dinner company than Grog. Or Scanlan,” Vex says.

“I’d imagine so, yes,” Percy says through a chuckle. “You’re not half bad, yourself.” A pause hangs heavy in the air, making his throat dry up. Was that the wrong thing to say?

When he finds the courage to glance at Vex for a better gauge of her reaction, she’s observing him with a considering look, eyes trained on him in a way that makes him feel like her prey. He wants to ask if everything’s alright, if he had offended her in some way, but all the letters and words jumble around in his brain.

“Perhaps,” Vex murmurs, finally looking away and letting Percy breathe again, “we could make a habit of it, then.”

Oh.

Percy’s smile is nearly boyish. “Yes, I think that would be lovely.” The soft and saccharine tone he uses is a rare thing, the novelty of it causing a light blush to brighten Vex’s face.

“Alright then. Tomorrow, six o’clock. Meet me at The Oaken Tavern,” she demands, stretching her sore muscles before standing. “Don’t be late.”

“I’ll be right on time,” Percy assures her, collecting their plates. His back is turned towards the half elf, so he doesn’t see her approach behind him, but he does feel her lips, soft and plush, brush against his cheek in a barely-there kiss.

Every muscle in his body goes taunt, eyes growing to the size of the plates in his hand. Vex chuckles behind him. “Have a good night, Percy,” she hums, turning and walking up towards the main room as if she hadn’t just rendered him useless and flustered.

It takes almost a minute for Percy to remember how to use his body, and another after that to actually follow through and sit back down at his work bench.

The broken earrings stare up at him, glittering in the dim lighting.

He sets his face in determination and gets back to work.

Four hours and several cups of coffee later, Percy surveys his work. He’d had to go out and get more supplies, after ruining all his own, and he’s pretty sure that he’s now spent more on materials than the original earrings cost. At last, though, he has a set that looks good. Not perfect, not identical to the ones in the store. But passable.

If he weren’t worried about sleeping through his date (holy shit his date) then he might stay up and try until he’s created better. As it is, he wants to be well rested and completely attentive tomorrow, so he quickly flops down into his bed, not even bothering to change out of his daytime attire.

*LINEBREAK*

Percy checks his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. He’s still got a bit to go, but it was better to be early than late, he’d decided. Vex’s earrings are in a small golden box that he can’t help fiddling with relentlessly.

Maybe he shouldn’t have made them. Too late now, though. Besides, she’ll surely like them more than a bouquet of flowers, which was his other idea.

Perhaps a bouquet of enchanted arrows would work best. Unfortunately, Percy doesn’t have time to procure those at this point. The earrings will have to do.

“Hello, Percy,” Vex greets from behind him. He doesn’t jump, but it’s a close thing as she takes his hand in hers. Turning to look at his date, Percy’s remark dies on his tongue. Oh, dear Gods, she’s going to kill him .

Her dress clings to the curves of her body, the navy material accentuating every little dip. Golden gemstones sparkle in the lamp light of the street, creating the illusion of a starry galaxy, contained in her dress. Red-painted lips smile sharply at him.

Percy, for all his training and refinement, lets out an undignified choking noise. “Vex, you look-- stunning,” he breathes, suddenly feeling very inadequate, despite the effort he’d put into dressing up. How can his plain suit compare to the beauty that stands before him? It clearly can’t.

Vex smiles, all too pleased with herself, and does a little twirl. The golden gemstones shimmer and flicker with the movement . “You like it?”

“It’s beautiful.” He wants, so badly, to reach out and grab her hips, pull her in close and press their lips together. A proper kiss. If he did that, though, Percy wouldn’t be able to make it through the date, and would surely try and drag her back to the keep for an early night in, one spent deliciously alone together.

“Percival? You’re staring, dear. Is everything alright?” Vex asks, all faux innocence and concern as she steps closer and cups his face in one hand. Her calloused fingers stroke comforting circles into his skin.

“Everything is fine, darling,” he assures her, but when he tries to focus on taking deep, calming breaths, all he can do is smell her spicy perfume and that just makes everything worse.

Vex grins, slowly letting her hand drop from his face and gripping his arm, instead. “Well then, shall we eat?” It’s almost comical, how she has to almost drag him into the restaurant as he tries to remember how his muscles work.

Somehow, they end up sitting at a table in the corner, ordering off a menu. Percy comes back to himself just as the waiter asks, “And your order, Sir?”

Swallowing, he forces himself to look at the menu and rattles off the first appealing dish; a shrimp and garlic pasta. All throughout, Vex is just grinning deviously, especially when he catches her eye and blushes deeper.

When the waiter finally leaves, Vex leans across the table so she’s closer to Percy. “You seem a little distracted, Darling. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

He laughs, looking at the ceiling. “This is going straight to your head, isn’t it?”

“I can’t say I don’t enjoy it,” she admits in turn, hand reaching out to take his, which, he notices, is still clutching the golden box. “What’s this?”

Percy forces himself to stay calm. “Ah, that would be a gift. Something to celebrate our first date.”

Curiously, she takes the small box, inspecting it closely. “First of many, I would hope.”

“That is-- yes, I hope so, too.” Gods, where did his charisma go? He’d grown up as royalty, learning how to speak to others with dignity and grace and charm, yet here he is, nervous and stuttering like a lovestruck teenager.

Vex seems pleased at her effect on him, though, so he can’t be too upset.

Carefully, she begins to open the gift. The cocky, suave smile is wiped off her face when she sees what’s inside, but before Percy has time to worry about her reaction, she’s looking back at him with awe. “Percy, did you make these?”

He adjusts his glasses. “Well, yes. I do hope you like them?”

She doesn’t break out into a grin, or thank him profusely, or overdo her reaction. Instead, Vex just stares at him with a gratitude that makes his chest flutter. “Thank you, Percy. They’re very beautiful,” she murmurs, taking one out of the packaging to further inspect it.

“Ah, it was nothing.”

“Don’t be modest, you dick. They’re a great gift. Own it,” she demands, unhooking her current golden studs to put in the new pair. Percy thanks his lucky stars that they match her dress so well.

Looking down to hide his proud grin, Percy says, “You deserve it, Vex. I’ll have to make you more, sometime.”

She smiles again, but it’s nothing like the sharp, seductive grins she’d sported just earlier this evening. This one is soft and gentle and Percy wants to look at it forever. “That would be lovely.”

And with her as a beautiful source of inspiration, Percy has no doubt that he will follow through on that.

#Percy #Percy de Rolo #Percival de Rolo #Critical Role #Vex'ahlia #Vex #Vex'ahlia Vessar #Perc'ahlia #Percahlia #Percy x Vex #Percy/vex #Au-gust #AU-gust 2022 #AU_Gust #AU_gust 2022

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ishleep22 · 3 years

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Kereshus: The Argonian Water Mage

(Final Reedit I promise)

An Elder scrolls story by Branton Lawrence

On the 26th of Xeech (known to the rest of Tamriel as the 26th of Sun’s Dawn), out of a luminous blue egg came a little Saxhleel boy named Kereshus. Kereshus was a small, relatively skinny Argonian with a unique light blue glowing scale all over his body. These scales are the most prominent on his face with a unique pattern on his forehead. His mother and father were confused by his appearance since no one in their tribe have ever had glowing scales to this extent and with such vibrancy. They took him to the village Tree-Minder and asked him why the hist gave him such distinct details. The Tree-Minder informed the family that he was born with an extraordinarily strong connection to Aetherius. So strong that it had a noticeable impact on his physical appearance. His mother asked why he specifically was given this connection and not his sister. The Tree-Minder told her “The Hist works in ways we will never understand. We will never truly know why your boy here was given such power. All I can tell you is nurture and take care of him. When the time comes, I will send someone to train him in the ways of the different magical schools.” His family left the Tree-Minder to begin caring for the little boy still with many questions on their minds on how to take care of such a gifted child.

Kereshus was born into a family who prided themselves on their warrior skills. His father was a renowned warhero. A giant red Argonian, taller then most high elves and beefier then most orcs. He had tones of scars all over his body from the numerous battles he has been in. His code name was Tyranno, which is known throughout Black Marsh for his victories against Dunmer Slavers and rival tribes. He was extremely strict and to the point. He didn’t play around with anything or anyone no matter who they were. His mother might not have been as well-known as his father(mainly because she’s was a very good assassin/ scout), but she was in every way his equal. She was always there, watching his back from afar or sticking her axe into anyone who got too close to him. She also had a no-crap view of life, but she was a lot less strict and a lot less narrow-minded than he was. They were a perfect duo and anyone who trifled with them found themselves headless. They finally settled down and had 2 children over the many years they were married: One of them was Kereshus the other was his older egg-sister, Am-Lee.

Am-Lee was her birth name, but she very quickly picked up the title Loves-To-Wander. Am-Lee was also a skilled warrior but her true passion was exploring. She loved discovering new places and any chance she would wander off in whatever directions she was facing. This caused some conflict with her father because she would constantly wander off during his lessons. This at first aggravated him to no end because he could see the untapped potential she had as a warrior but instead, she wasted her time climbing trees and going into places she was not supposed to go. But one day he decided to follow her to see what it was she enjoyed about exploring. He found it hard to tail this spry little lizard as she went deeper into the swamp, but he also found it entertaining in a way. After a while climbing, sprinting, and swimming they found a little circular alcove with a cute little pond at the bottom. It was a very strange thing to see in the middle of such a dense portion of the swamp. Am-Lee sat down by the edge of the pond collecting all the odd things she could find. He went up to her and put his hand on her shoulder causing her to go into full defensive mode. She flipped him over her shoulders making him land face-first into the pond. She quickly jumped onto him baring her teeth and claws. Then she realized she had just flipped her dad making her quickly jump off. She expected for him to give her all the forces of oblivion for wandering off and attacking but instead, she got to see him laugh for the first time. “I’m half surprised you didn’t finish the job; Almost cracked my damm skull open,” he said as he stood up. “I see your claws are sharper the I originally thought.” “You aren’t mad at me?” She warily asked. “Mad? No, more like surprised that you are paying attention to me!” “Your head is always in the clouds that I was convinced you that you were too high to hear me!” He chuckled. “When did you find such a beautiful little place?” “I found it 2 weeks ago when we were out hunting.” She told him. “I don’t know why but this place is just so inviting.” “I feel what you mean, little one.” “This place breaths an aura of serenity that you rarely find in these swamps.” “Hey why did you-“ “Tail you from one side of black marsh to another?” “Well because you’re my daughter and I just have to know where in oblivion you wander off to.” “By the hist, you do know what’s out there, right? It’s not safe to tread in these dark waters by yourself especially for a youngling!” “Yes, father, I know of every danger in this swamp. I also know these waters like I know my own scales.” “These waters have swallowed up Saxhleel who thought the same way you do.” “Hmm could have sworn there was only one of me.” She replied.

She prepped herself for the worst of it but again he replied calmly and gently. “You’re right. There is only one of you. Only one Am-Lee, and that’s why I came out here with you. Because I would hate to see such uniqueness disappear into the swamps forever.” She lowered her head, unaware of what to say. “Look, Am-Lee, I know you adore being out here. And I also understand that nothing I do will stop you from coming out here. So, all I ask is that you stay safe and don’t take unnecessary risks. If you see anything that looks a bit off, dive out immediately; understood?” “Yes, sir.” She replied. “That’s my little hatchling. Now come, it’s your brother's hatching day! We finally get to figure out what’s going on with him.” Before they left, her father marked this place down on his map. So, he could easily return here since he wasn’t as good as tracking as Am-Lee was.

When Kereshus was born, Am-Lee became a bit protective of him. I mean he was so skinny, and the blue glow coming off his scales was so intriguing to her. And he’s a magic user, which she had never met before besides the Tree-Minder in her village. She spent every second of her free time just admiring Kereshus and taking care of him. She went from explorer to caretaker in seconds devoting all her time to taking care of him. For some reason, he had a little trouble learning jel, their native language but had an easier time learning basic Tamrielic. He did end up being fluent in both but still, his family took note of the struggle he had to connect with other Argonians in the beginning. When Kereshus got older, Am-Lee and he became close friends with each other who always liked to challenge each other. While Kereshus was still skinny, he could hold his own with a sword even being the only one in the village to go toe-to-toe with his sister. When their father wasn’t training them, she watched Kereshus train in the arts of magic from many mages from all over Tamriel. One of them even showed Kereshus the arts of music, teaching Kereshus how to play the lute. He already had knowledge and a love for drums and other Saxhleel instruments, but the lute quickly became his favorite. He played tunes for his family every now and then until he gained enough courage to play for the entire village. He was shy at first, but he quickly opened up to everyone, and soon, his whole village adored him. He was a quiet, yet charismatic Argonian who loved his family and friends. But he didn’t let this love for his sister make him any less a rival to her.

It was the Annual Village Brawl where Saxhleel tested each other in one round battle until one person yielded. It was Kereshus vs Am-Lee and the whole village was watching. They battled furiously against each other until Kereshus got the upper hand and accidentally slashed her eye. In a panic, he quickly ran to see if she was ok. Am-Lee took advantage of this flipping Kereshus to the ground putting her sword to his neck. “Yield?” She asked. “Yah yah, I yield. Hey, are you ok?” “Kereshus, you know I’m fine. I’ve taken bigger hits from people bigger than you.” “But did those hits leave a mark like that?” “Well, I’m not blind so again it really doesn’t matter.” “I know but- “What did I tell you about this? When I say I’m fine, I’m fine. You know if I wasn’t fine, you’d be the first one to know.” “but- ““By the hist, you worry too much. Come on I have something to show you.” Am-Lee leads Kereshus to that circular alcove that she hadn’t been to in so many years. “What is this place?” Kereshus asked. “A place I found a while ago. I used to come here every day before you were born. It’s still as peaceful as I remember it being.” So why did you bring me here?” “Well for 2 reasons: One I have a question for you and two I have a gift for you.” “Well let’s start with the question; What is it?” I was wondering if you’d like to be my traveling partner. I’ve always loved to explore as you know but I’ve never had anyone to watch my back out here. Father says it's unwise to explore out here by ourselves and I believe him. So, what do you say? You down for it?” Before Kereshus could answer they heard rustling bushes nearby. Whatever was coming wasn’t anything small, so they readied their weapons. Out came a half-naked Argonian, who looked like he was feral. “Are you ok, sir?” Kereshus asked. The man didn’t say a word, just stared at Am-Lee with his teeth bared at her. “Sir, I’m going to need you to calm down. And stop looking at me like that before those beautiful teeth disappear.” He still stood there, staring at Am-Lee. Kereshus whispered to Am-Lee, “Maybe we should just go. I don’t feel like dealing with this today.” “I can't just leave him here; this is my area!” “Well, then you can fight them.” “Them?” Kereshus pointed to the pond as another Argonian raised from it. “Wow Kereshus, never known you to be so thin-scaled.” “I’m not thin-scaled, these guys just make me feel uneasy is all.” “Fine, let’s go then, hatchling.” As they turned to leave, one of the feral Argonians started to bellow. The water rippled with the vibrations coming from him as the other one also began to bellow back. As they bellowed, they began to morph. Their bodies morphed into large creatures. With huge teeth, sharp claws, and eyes full of hate. “Kereshus don’t tell me they-““Turned into Werecrocs? No, why would I even suggest such a terrible thing?” Kereshus and Am-Lee began running back towards the village. Kereshus used his powers to try to slow the Lycan down as Am-Lee tried to get away. But no matter how many tons of water, no matter the electric currents he sent through those streams nothing would stop these 2. They just kept coming and coming like an unrelenting force through the damp swamps. Feeling like nothing he could do would stop them, he stopped running. “What in the hist are you doing, you egg sack?” “I’m holding them off so you can get help.” “But you’ll die, fool.” “I will if you don’t stop flapping your jaw; Go!” Am-Lee left Kereshus to deal with these lycanthropes by himself as she got help.

One of the Werecrocs dashed towards Kereshus, claws outstretched. Kereshus narrowly dodges before the other one rams him into a tree. Kereshus didn’t know if he was hit hard or if the one who rammed him was smiling at him. The croc who lunged at him was about to lung at him again before the other stopped him. While Kereshus was laying on the tree he got a good look at them. The one who rammed him had dark red scales, sprinkled with black dots all over his body. He was taller than the other one and appeared to be a little bit more muscular than him although not by much. The other Werecrocodile had a much more mosey, rugged, and devilish look to him. Scars all over his dark green scales with a gash on his head freakishly like the one he accidentally gave his sister being in almost the same spot. The red one appeared to be way calmer and more tactical while the green was all twitchy and jumpy. Like he would turn around and pounce on Kereshus at any second. After a monument, the red one walked towards Kereshus. He grabbed Kereshus by his arm and was about to bite it off when Kereshus shot a scalding hot water ball into his mouth with his free hand. In pain, it reeled back letting Kereshus go. Kereshus then attempted to stab him with his sword but was hit with a strong whack of the red one’s tail. Kereshus landed as the other one bolted towards him. Kereshus rolled backwards as the jagged claws of the Mossy Werecroc came crashing down. He then retaliated by throwing mud into its eye as he swung his sword to hit him. The mossy croc closed a translucent membrane over his eyes to block the mud and grabbed Kereshus by the head. He then started to squeeze and squeeze wanting to crush Kereshus head. Kereshus dropped his sword and then blasted the croc back with a mix of water and lightning. As he did this he saw out of the corner of his eye the other red croc’s jaws wide open. He fell backwards as the jaws went right by his head. Kereshus landed right next to his sword, jumping back onto his feet. As he did so the mossy croc had recovered and was again dashing towards Kereshus, this time much more telegraphed due to most likely being weakened water and fire. Kereshus saw an opening and sidestepped the croc shoving his blade deep one of the scars it had on its back. All this did though was get a loud hiss out of it as it appeared to barely be phased by it. Kereshus stumbled onto his feet as an idea pooped into his head. He conjured up a huge wave that sent the 2 Werecrocs flying back. As they came to, Kereshus was nowhere to be seen as he was in the trees. Part of him was tempted to run away but he didn’t want to risk them finding his village. He caught his breath and began trying to think of ways he could finish this fight; if he could at all. “Ok,” He thought to himself,” The green seems to be getting more and more tired. So, if I can separate them and knock them both out, even for a few seconds, I could grab my sword and kill the green one. Maybe then the other one would back off.” He wasn’t 100% down with this idea but it's all he had. He got up from the branch he was sitting on as the two of them began looking for him. Kereshus started to pelt them with high-speed water balls with the occasional lightning strike and fireball. Both Werecrocs took cover from the volley as Kereshus jumped from tree to tree pushing them to take cover in different positions until they were back in the alcove. Kereshus, still launching spells at them both even though they weren’t hitting, Maneuvered his way to the other side of the pound. While his glowing scales weren’t as bright as they were normally, they were still visible. He stood there, even though a little bloody and beaten, with his glowing scales shining and teeth bearing at them. Looking ready to continue fighting (Even though he knew he barely had any Magicka left in him). The mossy croc roared and ran toward him as the red croc realized that Kereshus had intentionally missed all those shots in the alcove. The mossy croc was an inch away from stepping on the line of runes placed by Kereshus. The red croc reached out to stop him from stepping on the runes, but it was already too late. A massive explosion of water and lightning erupted out of the swamp send both crocs flying. Kereshus took cover behind a tree to avoid the explosion and debris. The red croc went flying backwards into a random part of the swamps and the mossy croc smashed into a tree a yard away from Kereshus. “This is it!” Kereshus exclaimed as he ran over to the limp body of the Werecroc. He jumped on its back and began pulling and pulling trying to get it out. “For the love of the hist, COME ON!” he said straining himself trying to pull it out the blade. “Did he heal over it or something? I can’t be that tired.” “No,” said a deep voice from underneath his feet, “You’re just weak.” Before Kereshus could react the mossy green Werecroc grabbed his tail and launched him off his back. “Damm mages are always a pain to fight. Always hurling fire at your problems.” He said pulling the blade out of his back. He looked down at Kereshus. “My friend was wrong for trying to toy with you thinking we had 2 easy prey for our lord. At least killing you now would most definitely satisfy him.” He broke the sword with his mighty jaws and spit the piece at Kereshus. He grabbed Kereshus by his face neck lifting him off the ground. “Well before I do that…” he says as he punches Kereshus in the face sending him flying into a rock. “One last hit, for my partner.” He said in a deep, eerie voice as he smiled menacingly at him. He sat Kereshus up, getting ready to bite his head off. Kereshus had no fight left in him to resist so he waited for the end to happen. Before the jaws of death could close around his head, he heard the whistle of an arrow come flying through the swamp. Straight into the eyes of the Werecroc. He dropped Kereshus down roar out in pain as multiple more arrows rang out through the forest. Kereshus’ mother and the village hunting party had arrived and started pelting the croc with arrows. And out from overhead, his father came crashing down onto the croc slamming down onto it. He rolled back to his feet with his battle-axe in hand and charged at the Werecroc. Dodging all of the wild attacks of the now half-blind Werecroc, he got several gashes on the Werecroc before it finally fell to its knees out of exhaustion and pain. Kereshus’ father looked it in the eye before embedding his battle-axe into its skull. His father ran over to him wondering if he was too late. His mother and sister were right there behind him. “What happened to the other one?” Am-Lee asked. Kereshus was half-unconscious but was able to point in the direction the dark red Werecroc flew. His father let out a grunt as he led most of the hunting party in that direction. His mother order 2 members to stay and help her. “Get the stretcher, now!” She barked continuing to tend to Kereshus as much as she could. “Hist be praised, you're still alive!” Am-Lee said relieved that she didn’t leave her brother to die. Before he could respond, his mother stopped him. “Shushhh, little one. You’ll get all the time to brag to your sister about how much of a hero you are after you get healed. Right now, I need you to rest.” The other 2 Argonians came back with the stretcher and lifted Kereshus onto it. As they began to walk, Kereshus looked over to Am-Lee getting her to come closer to him. He whispered to her,” I’d be glad to be your traveling partner”, before falling unconscious.

A few months passed by since that entire situation. Although his father had no success in finding the red Werecrocs, they theorized that he was long gone since no one had gone missing nor had anyone seen him. Looking past that both Kereshus and his village were doing extremely well. He had fully recovered from the fight and was feeling better than he ever had. His father was training some of the best shock troopers in all black marsh while his mother became a merchant. She was a great aid to the village's economy but that didn’t stop her from training a squad of elite archers in her free time. While they were in aiding the village’s daily affairs, Kereshus and Am-Lee began exploring. Their adventures took them all over Black Marsh, meeting the different cultures and tribes that inhabited the land. They even started to make plans to explore outside of Black Marsh. Kereshus was keen on visiting Cyrodiil and Elsweyr while Am-Lee wanted to explore Skyrim and Hammerfell. They agreed upon Skyrim, both wanting to explore the ancient Nordic ruins. Kereshus planned on visiting the bard’s college and the College of Winterhold. Both to learn about the Nordic culture and to learn more about magic from the college. But they had to pass through Cyrodiil anyway to reach Skyrim. They said their goodbyes to friends and family (Which for Am-Lee also involved mostly passive-aggressive farewells to all the rivals she had made. Kereshus found the amount of pettiness coming from his sister incredibly hilarious which he predicted was intent.) but for some reason, they couldn’t find their father. “Come to think of it I haven’t seen him all day,” Their mother told them while preparing a meal for them. “Ever since that suspicious dry-skin came into town.” “What suspicious dry-skin?” Kereshus asked. “Some man, think he was imperial.” She replied. “Didn’t say a word or bought anything. Just walked around town and then left.” Was he scoping out our village?” Am-Lee asked with a bit of excitement in her voice that Kereshus knew meant “New adventure!?”. His mother also noticed it and quickly replied, “Hey don’t worry your father’s business when you 2 have business of your own. Isn’t today the day your hatchlings go on your big journey across this continent?” “Yes,” Kereshus responded. “But we were hoping to say goodbye to you and father before we departed.” “We can wait, Kereshus,” Am-Lee said. “Because I’m not leaving without saying anything to him.” They heard a chuckle from the door to their home. “That would be the first time in your life you said anything before wandering off.” Their father said as he came in. “Didn’t think id miss my young ones leaving over a thin-skinned land strider, did you?” “Father, you’re ok!” Am-Lee exclaimed, reaching to hug him but then hesitated instead giving him a salute. “I’m not your commander right now, Am-Lee.” He spoke in a voice that Kereshus hadn’t heard, ever. “I mean it’s not like you would listen to my commands anyway, you slithery salamander.” He joked hugging them both. “I could never be prouder of both of you. My finest warriors are ready to explore the world and make names for yourselves.” “Wow, I expected for you to rant to them about staying in the village.” Their mother joked preparing tonight’s meal. He then proceeded to say something to her in Jel that ruffly translates to something incredibly flirtatious (which Kereshus and Am-Lee both fully understood, making them gag at such thoughts). The 4 of them laughed and helped prepared what would most likely be their last meal together for a long while.

Their mother went all out on getting food for this meal. Kereshus’ Swamp Hen and Crayfish salad, Am-lee’s Swamp-eel broth, their father’s favorite giant wasp gizzard with a snail-gin. She even got them freshly sweet rolls from a traveler from Cyrodiil which Am-Lee had gotten Kereshus into eating when he was just learning to speak Tamrielic (being the first word he had said in the language) which became a sort of tradition between them 2 on their hatching days. Although finding a baker who is willing to come to the most dangerous provinces for non-natives for whatever reason is extremely rare even if their part of the swamp is hospitable enough for weekly trade with other cultures. They enjoyed their family moment for a few hours but then his father got the whole village involved in a celebration for his kids with lots of dancing and singing that even the foreigners got involved. But Kereshus felt off like his own essence was being sucked from him. Am-Lee noticed from the crowd she was in and went over to check on him. “What’s wrong? Couldn’t handle the Phlegmwine?” She laughed punching him in the shoulder. He didn’t respond to this as he fell into a pond behind him. Am-Lee was about to make another joke when she was gagged and turned invisible. Another invisible figure came towards Kereshus and dragged him into the marsh.

“Wake up!” Someone said harshly. Kereshus and Am-Lee woke up bound together. The boards around him slowly shaking from side to side and the sound of waves all around him indicated to Kereshus that they were on a boat. Where they were going was one thing he couldn't tell however. “Ah our 2 guests of honor are finally awake it seems.” Said cloaked figure standing in the shadows. “Hey, who are you and where have you taken us!” Am-Lee hissed. “Where you are doesn’t matter. I would be concerned with your lives.” “Why don’t you stop acting like a tuff guy from the shadows and show yourself?” Out of the shadows came a Dunmer, a dark elf. “Who are you?” Kereshus asked. “Someone you, or anyone you know, doesn’t even know. Someone who has a… slight problem with your father.” “Ok but how about you take your problem up with him,” Am-lee growled. “or are you afraid that he would tear you in half.” The elf chuckled at the comment “It would be like that monster to rip someone apart.” Kereshus tried to muster up power for a spell, but nothing seemed to work. “You think you could just blow your way out of here? Welp not with those cuffs on.” He said this while pointing to the cuffs Kereshus had on. “Only Mephala knows how hard it was to get you 2 n’wahs. Your mother is always checking for food that has been tampered with. But all we needed was a tiny amount of Magicka draining laced sweet rolls that only you, my glowing friend, could notice. Then getting your sister was just so trivial in comparison.” What do you want from us? Kereshus asked. “Oh, I just need you two as a message. For any scaly barbarians who think they can burn down my land! And take those who I loved from me.” He sat there staring at the dagger in his hands. “When our father finds out about- “Am-Lee started before getting cut off by a thump to the head by the pommel of his sword. “Silence, Lizard! Save your voice for what's about to happen next.” The Dunmer pulls out a coin that he had in his pocket. “You see this? Your fate rests in this septim. If it lands on its head, then the girl lives. If tails, then the boy lives. Since I only need one of you alive for this message to your father, let’s just see which one of you has miss fortune’s favor.” Kereshus begins to plead with the elf. “Please, sir! You don’t have to do-“” “There is no need for you to even try talking me out of this, n’wah. It won’t stop what’s coming.” Kereshus and Am-Lee Looked at each other into each other’s eyes. Both fearing what was going to happen to the other one. The elf flips the coin high into the air. As it flew, Kereshus prayed that the coin would land on its head. Am-Lee prayed the opposite, that the coin would land on its tail. Before the coin landed, the elf caught it midair. He unsheathed his sword saying the words: “Sorry, my dear. It seems that luck isn’t on your side.” As he walked up to her Kereshus started to plead with the mer, yet his words fell upon deaf ears. Am-lee calmy told Kereshus “Don’t let this dry skin stop our plans. Once you killed this thin-scaled fool, continue our journey to Skyrim. Explore a few dungeons, meet the locals, and practice more of that magical stuff even more for me, Egg-brother.” After she said this, the elf grabbed her by her horns and slowly slid his blade across her throat. Kereshus roared out gaining a surge of energy coming to him as he fries the cuffs into nothing more than just burnt leather, he charges at the mer tackling him into the ground, digging into his flesh with his bare claws. Other people from above the deck came down when they heard the yells from the hooded dark elf. They drew their weapons while the more magically inclined ones summoned hellish whips that they swung at Kereshus. Kereshus dodged those and proceeded to launch everyone back onto the deck in a large tidal wave coming from his finger tips. A few either snapped their backs from the force they were launched into the hull of the boat or just completely going overboard. He knew he was running on only his biological energy right now since the cuffs had kept him from regaining Magicka. So, with the little amount of energy, he had left in hobbled his way back to his sister who was limp on the ground. He fell next to it. He physically couldn’t move or walk anymore so he crawled toward her trying to heal her. But sadly, it was too late. All that he could bring out of her were a few words: “Keep wandering, for me, please?”

Kereshus woke in a cage. The only things that were in there were a bed and a bucket. Kereshus didn’t care that he was now a slave, he cared more about his sister he had lost. He grabbed his head and began to whimper. He had no other feelings but sadness. Not only did he lose his sister, but he had also lost his best friend. He failed to protect the only person he had to. He let his father, mother, and most importantly himself down. He sat there whimpering until someone knocked on his cell door. It was a young Dunmer woman who came with a tray of food. “Is everything alright, sera?” Kereshus said nothing, blocking his face with his legs. The women looked around to see if there were any guards around and then opened the cage. She sat down in front of Kereshus putting the tray on his bed. “Look you’ve been in here crying for a few hours now. The guard half wanted to knock you out again, but I stopped them. Those boneheads.” Kereshus still sat there saying absolutely nothing. “Alright, I understand we aren’t technically supposed to be having this conversation. I also understand that you don’t trust me for good reasons. But can you at least eat this so that you don’t starve to death?” She picks up the tray and places it in front of him. As she leaves, moves his knees from in front of his face. “Kereshus. My name is Kereshus.” “Well hello Kereshus, my name is Verlanna.”

Verlanna came to Kereshus multiple times a week to bring him food. With each visit, she sat down to have talks with Kereshus. He started to open up to her, teaching her about Argonian culture and his village. He told the story of how he took on 2 Werecrocodiles by himself, which he still was surprised that he had done. Over time, he opened up about his family and his sister. Even opened up about his sister’s death. Verlanna was horrified hearing and what happened. And disgusted that the man she considered a friend would ever do such a thing. She wanted to do something about it, she was sickened by the mistreatment of these people at the heads of slave masters. So, she and a group of like-minded Dunmer plotted a revolt. They would need a distraction to free the slaves. Verlanna suggested that they get Kereshus’ father involved. He's leading a group of elite Argonian shellbacks would be a perfect distraction allowing all the slaves to be freed. Also, his family would want revenge for their daughter’s death. So, she set out to visit Kereshus’ village to meet his father and plan Kereshus’ escape much to Kereshus’ worry that his father would do to her. Upon arrival, Verlanna was met with an incredibly angry Argonian and afraid-looking outsiders who he had kept at the village ever since that night. Kereshus’ father was not in the mood to deal with a Dunmer when she saw her until she told him about Kereshus which got his attention. At first, he almost killed her right there if it wasn’t for Kereshus’ mother intervening. Verlanna proved to him that Kereshus was alive by telling the stories he told her and that she planned to save him. He asked about Am-Lee’s fate which she reluctantly told him her fate which they began to sob. “So that voice we heard that day must have been our little hatchling. Her last words carried over the winds by the hist to us.” “I am truly sorry for your loss. And Id likes to help you in getting your son out of captivity.” Verlanna suggested. “How would you help us? Haven’t your people done enough to mine?” Kereshus’ mother said with a sobby growl. “I have a plan to getting him and other slaves out. There are those of us who think our traditions of slavery need to go. But I can only do that with your help.” They both whipped their tears off their faces and went full battle strategist mode. The plan was to distract the guards with a frontal assault while Verlanna’s people got the slaves and non-combatants out. While Verlanna wanted to avoid bloodshed entirely the only option was to minimize death that was already going to happen.

“We are under attack!” Verlanna yells as she runs into the compound. “By whom?” Her old friend asked. “Him.” He knew who she was referring to, so he quickly ordered his men to ready themselves for battle. He grabbed his blade out of his office and ran outside. Verlanna grabbed the key and ran down to Kereshus’ room. She opened the cage and released Kereshus from his cuffs. “Come on we have to go!” “Where is he! Where is that murder!” Kereshus hissed loudly. “He’s probably already been captured by your father’s troops. Now we have to go!” They left the building grouping up with his father and his mother. In front of them there he stood. Before anyone could say anything, Kereshus leaped onto the man tearing into him with his claws. He then proceeded to beat his face in with a rock. Verlanna pulled Kereshus away from him but all that was left was a mer that was unrecognizable. A bloody mess laying on the ground. This didn’t make Kereshus feel any better, however. His father walked up to him putting his hand on his shoulder. “That worthless piece of meat deserved more. “I couldn’t save her.” Kereshus sobbed. “No one could. Even with your being as gifted as you are. His father helped him to his feet. “Did you find her? Kereshus asked. “Yes, we did. We’re taking her back to be laid to rest in the marsh.” Kereshus feared her body was lost forever hearing that they found her body put some relief in his mind. “Come young one, you’ve been through a lot.”

And so there Kereshus was, watching his other half sink into the mud of the marsh. With the rumbles of the village singing in Jel, with low sounds resonating in their bodies, somberly moving their tails across the grass of the marsh. Afterward, Kereshus had a long talk with his father and mother about what to do next. The words Kereshus heard didn't come from Am-Lee, but instead come from her final thoughts as she passed on. Water magic was a rare skill that not only gave him power over water but also the power to control what was in water: memories. When a mortal dies, while their body decomposes into the earth and their soul goes to whatever god they believe in or demon that has enslaved him, Their memories flow into the rivers an oceans of Nirn. Kereshus had tried this skill before but was unsuccessful in all of his attempts to do it consciously. He doesn't know how he did it but he some how projected his sisters final words into the minds of his family so that they all could hear her one final time. While the words Am-Lee spoke still lurked in their minds they didn’t want to split up. Nor did they think it was a good idea for all of them to leave the village. They decided to let Kereshus go to Skyrim after having multiple hour-long prayer sessions with the hist for almost 2 more months. With the help of Verlanna, who got him a boat to Skyrim, they planned his journey in the name of Am-Lee. But before Kereshus sets of his father gave him something. “We had meant to give you these things before… that day.” “What are they?” Kereshus asked. “It’s a silver sword for when you run into any of those demon werecreatures.” It was a finely made sword, that looked like it was made by the same smith that made his. “Also, here your sister made this for you.” It was a drum, nicely made woven together by multiple bits from around the swamp. The sound it made when Kereshus hit it was so nice on his ears. He sat there staring at it for a minute before the boat arrived. He gave his mother and father a very long and loving hug. He also said his goodbyes and greatly thanked Verlanna for all her help and then set off to wander Tamriel in his sister’s name.

#The Elder Scrolls #Skyrim #the elder scrolls fanfic #eso

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sanderssideswriting · 4 years

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Youtuber Life Chapter 2

Ships: familial sleepxiety and eventual Prinxiety

Words:???

first next

Summary: Remy Sanders is a famous beauty vlogger and just moved to LA with his teenage son Virgil after their location was leaked by fans. Remy AKA CoffeeAddiction has several million subscribers. Virgil also has a secret Drama channel, where he doesn’t show his face and uses a voice modifier. He just hit a million subs and grows more everyday because of the level of production his videos have, the mystery around who he is and the fact that he ALWAYS has the latest information regarding youtube drama.

They’d been in LA for three months now, and it was going well, Virgil was best friends with Patton, Logan and Roman. And he called Janus and Remus all the time.

Virgil had to help his dad with a video, it of course involved getting some very expensive and almost impossible to get pallet which he’d compare the stuff from a drug store. He had to get it.

Janus called him after he saw the video “hook me up bitch,” he said.

Virgil laughed “no,” he said monotone.

“Come on! You have the connections! You can get two!”

“I know, but I’m not for hire.”

“I am your best friend, hook me up.”

“Still no, get it yourself or don’t get it. I’ll mail you the leftovers if you want.”

“You better not destroy it you bitch!”

“I buy it, I don’t decide how it’s used, later loser,” Virgil hung up, with Janus screaming bloody murder.

“Hey Virgil, how did you get an A on the English essay? I’ve been trying all year to get a good grade and I’ve only ever gotten a B,” Roman said looking at his latest grades.

“Pick a point that sort of makes sense and defend it like your life depends on it,” Virgil said not looking up from his phone, Janus was spamming him about the pallet.

“And she just assigned a partner project! Partners?” Roman said in disbelief.

“Sure, I don’t want to be partners with a straight girl again, that was a disaster.”

Roman gave Virgil a questioning look.

“Wanted me to be her ‘gay best friend’”

“Want to go over to one of our houses to work on it after school?”

Virgil nodded “we can do my place, my dad won’t care.”

They of course stopped by Starbucks to get coffee. Remy called.

“Get me coffee.”

“I’m not even at Starbucks.”

“SnapMaps says otherwise, get me Starbies I’m doing a charity livestream,”

“No, I’m here with a friend.”

“Are you-? Oh my god! You are!”

“OH MY GOD NEVER IMPLY THAT AGAIN! I will get you coffee just never ask me that again!” Virgil hung up.

“Hi, I’ll get five venti iced coffees, black, and make two of them decaf.” Virgil said to the barista.

The newest video on CoffeeAddiction’s channel was about said decaf coffees and how he had been betrayed by his intern.

Dukey: Your dad is so dramatic Raccoon: I know, I’m grounded for “all of eternity” hiss hiss motherfucker: so no Office this weekend? Raccoon: I’ll be watching with you guys Raccoon: If he actually grounded me I wouldn't be able to get him the pallet Dukey: you’re dad’s really cool Raccoon: are you kidding me? I’M A FUCKING MEME Raccoon: LITERALLY, on multiple occasions people have made me a meme hiss hiss motherfucker: what are you doing for Halloween? Raccoon: Something really fucking scary, as scary as I can get without a detention anyway Dukey: My brother likes make up, I COULD tell him that YOU said that he probably couldn’t do good make up, and then his pride would take over and you’d have a challenge Raccoon: DO IT! That’ll be SO fun Dukey: already did

Roman looked up from his phone “my brother just said that you said I can’t do make up?”

“Yeah, Like sure you can make yourself have a pretty face but can you scare the shit out of people? Halloween’s in a few days.”

Roman rolled his eyes “Make up is an art! I doubt you know much emo nightmare, all you have on is that horrendous eyeshadow.”

Virgil smirked “Then it should be no worry of who will win.”

“A challenge then, to whomever can do the best make up.” Roman said with a flourish.

“I accept, after school? That gives more creative freedom.”

Roman agreed and they shook on it.

Dukey: O F F E N D E D P R I N C E Y N O I S E S hiss hiss motherfucker: what the fuck Remus Dukey: It’s true

Virgil went into the make up closest (yes they had an actual make up closet) to get his supplies. “Dad! I need to use your make up!” Virgil shouted.

“Don’t break anything!”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

So Virgil got to work. It took several tries to get it just right but by the end it looked perfect. Prefect enough to scare the shit out of Roman that is.

They met up at the Halloween party, or Virgil did, he got their early and waited for Roman to arrive.

And he did.

Virgil saw him walk in so he jumped up and into Roman’s face.

Roman screamed and so did several other people.

“Sup Princey,” he said.

Roman put his hand on his heart “that was the most terrifying thing ever!”

“Then I won, clearly. I mean that...….. mummy costume isn’t that impressive or scary.”

Roman once again looked offended.

“Well, I’ll take my leave, see ya later Princey.” And Virgil left the party.

He walked inside the house in triumph.

“Where did you go Virgil? You’re all decked out in Halloween stuff. OH. MY GOD. You went to a party! You’re first party!!!” Remy said. He was filming, presumably for a vlog or something.

“I just went because I challenged a friend to see who could do better scare make up,” Virgil explained.

“Gurl, if you lost I’m disowning you. We are the queens of make up in this house and I will not see my son lose at a makeup competition,” Remy said.

“I scared him shitless of course I won.”

“THAT’S MY SON!” Remy cheered.

Virgil left to go change while Remy resumed his vlog.

He texted Remus and Janus.

Raccoon: I scared your brother shitless Raccoon: ngl it was pretty funny Dukey: I WISH I could have seen it hiss hiss motherfucker: Why do you like tormenting him? Dukey: well he’s MY twin, it’s my job Raccoon: His “o f f e n d e d p r i n c e y n o i s e s” are funny hiss hiss motherfucker: get a video and I’ll make my verdict Raccoon: Alright judge Janus hiss hiss motherfucker: YOU ARE NOT MAKING THAT MY CONTACT Dukey: You don’t like Jay-nus? Raccoon: Mine for him is hiss hiss motherfucker hiss hiss motherfucker: I fucking dare you, raccoon eyes Raccoon: now you’re definitely not getting that pallet

At school Roman practically begged to show Virgil how he looked so creepy.

“Oh my god! Fine princey, this weekend I’ll fucking show you how I did it,” Virgil said after two days of nonstop begging.

Roman looked triumphant ta getting what he wanted.

When Virgil texted his dad. Virgil: In the closet this weekend Remy: awww is it that boy at the Starbucks? Virgil: You mean the one I scared the shit out of and now wants to know who I did it? yes Remy: ok, tell me what time so we can go into the closet Virgil: I will

That Saturday Roman would come over. So on Friday that ad to “go into the closet” their code meaning they had to clean up all the stuff that where indicators of them being YouTubers and hide it in a literal closet. The makeup closet was locked and so was the basement so no one could stray down there.

Roman arrived a few minutes early.

“Dad! He’s here!”

“I know that Virgil, I’ll be “working” if y’all need me, but I know you won’t,” Remy said going into the basement and locking the door, he said he would edit but it was more likely he’d watch the Office for the sixteenth time.

Roman knocked on the door “hey emo nightmare! So this is your humble abode I see,” Roman said looking around.

“Yeah, my dad’s working in the basement, he said he’s doing something important, but he’s probably watching the Office again, either way he said not to disturb him,” Virgil said.

“I can hear you Virgil!” Remy shouted.

“Anyway, let’s go to my room so I can show you how I did the whole vampire look,” Virgil said.

When Roman saw his room he looked around “I pictured your room having a lot more black then this.”

Virgil’s room had only one wall where his bed was that was black, the rest was white, he had to admit it made the room look a lot more open then if it had been all black. Over the past two months Virgil had been painting purple patches on the black like in his old room in Atlanta.

“My dad refused to let me paint the whole room black because it would look terrible and I’d ruin the vibes,” Virgil said.

“He was right, but alas I’m not here to admire the décor of your room, I’m here to see how you did that makeup,” Roman said.

Virgil already had the stuff out “I know that Princey, come on, I’ll show you how to do it,” Virgil said.

They where halfway through when Roman said “you sound like a beauty channel,” he said.

Virgil stopped for a second before saying “well I’m doing it on your face, it would be a waste of good make up if you didn’t understand how I did it.”

“True, but you totally sound like James Charles,” Roman said.

Virgil winced “don’t let my dad hear you say that, he hates that guy.”

“Is he homophobic or something?”

Virgil smirked “no, we’re both gay. He just hates him and if you say his name around him, he might deck you. Or ban you from the espresso machine.”

Roman gave Virgil a weird look. “State of the art espresso machine, trust me, after you’ve had some you’ll regret ever getting banned.”

He laughed “so you’re both coffee addicts.”

“You should have seen his reaction when he realized that some of the coffee I got him was decaf.” Virgil smirked.

Roman laughed “like the Coffee Addiction video, I didn’t watch it but I saw it at number 1 on trending.”

Virgil almost lost his cool, for a minute “I guess, I wouldn’t know, I don’t watch CoffeeAddiction, what’s so great about it?”

Roman looked shocked “I’m surprised, I mean he’s one of the biggest youtubers in the beauty community,”

Virgil snorted “that explains it, I don’t watch beauty vlogs. Anyway, do you want to wash all of that off or go freak out some random people on the drive home?”

Roman chose to wash it off and left unknowing leaving Virgil and Remy to once again “youtubeify” their house.

#prinxiety #sander sides #au #youtuber au #familial sleepxiety #famous au #Thomas sanders #tss

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #370

“breakdowns, obscenities, it’s all i wanna be”

Do you have any bad habits you aren’t working on changing? If so, do you ever think you’ll try to break them? Downloading music, for one. I really should just start using Spotify... but my iPod has over 1k songs on it and I just seriously don't want to got through all the trouble. When was the last time someone surprised you with their reaction or behaviors? Hm. I dunno. What kinds of videos do you like to watch on YouTube, if any? I watch SO many different kinds. It used to be pretty strictly let's plays, but I've definitely expanded my watching interests. Now I'm really into watching educational reptile and tarantula husbandry and keeping channels, I watch one woman who is like my weight loss idol (Jordan Shrinks, she is amazing), there's a few vloggers, I enjoy some World of Warcraft channels, and then there's a couple urban exploration guys I like. I also occasionally watch some beauty YouTubers just for their personalities and the art of it. Have you ever reached out to a crisis center for mental health support? If so, how was the experience? Yes, but they were so busy that I didn't connect with anyone before I finally gave up and ODed. When was the last time you did something you were afraid to do, and how was the outcome? Ummmm I don't really know. What is one positive thing you believe about yourself? I care a lot about other people. What is something you have been through that has made you stronger? The breakup. It brought me to the lowest of lows, where every day was a struggle to survive. It taught me I can endure through almost anything, even if it doesn't feel like I can. Other than money, what is something you wish you had more of in your life? Happiness, contentment, being in love, motivation, energy, activities, travel... There's genuinely a lot. IIs there anything that you tend to ignore for the sake of your sanity? I'm very bad at ignoring things. If something is bothering me, it's going to put up a beastly fight to be at the forefront of my mind. What is something you wish was different about your family? I wish we were closer and better off monetarily. What keeps you going lately? The hope for a happy, satisfactory future. Have you ever been in an unconventional relationship (long distance, polyamorous, same gender, age gap, etc)? if so, what challenges did this relationship present, and were they worth overcoming? I've been in a long-distance relationship with another girl. I think the hardest part was that there was not being able to physically be there for each other when one of us was really struggling, and sometimes communication was an issue, not being able to read body language when we voice chatted or hear the tone in which we "spoke" when texting, though I'm pretty sure that's an issue with any online relations. I also feel it's difficult to really build and experience your chemistry with one another when you're not physically with the other person. I still think all these challenges were worth overcoming, though. I in no way regret the relationship and got only good things out of it. What is the most unhealthy relationship (whether friendship or romantic) you’ve ever had? What made it so unhealthy? Do you still talk to each other? I'm kinda torn between Jason and Colleen, but I think my bond with Jason was ultimately more unhealthy because it went beyond love: he was an obsession. Having him with me was the only thing that brought me joy, and I lit-er-a-lly could not imagine my future without him. Like that concept just didn't exist; it was entirely impossible in my head. On his end, he failed to communicate what he was going through emotionally, which only contributed to the damage. I never knew he was struggling because of me. Without realizing it, I put so much pressure on him to make me happy, so to answer the last question, no, we don't, by his decision - and I don't blame him. Have you ever been abusive in any way? Were you able to change or make amends, or, in general, what do you think people should do to make amends in that situation? A neverending battle I have with myself is if how I treated Jason after the breakup was qualifiable as emotional abuse, specifically with messaging him things like "thanks for sending me to the ER" and shit. My therapist reassures me that it wasn't abusive because I wasn't being deliberately manipulative, but rather genuinely hurt and convinced I had been wronged and wanted him to know and acknowledge it. She agrees that it was wrong, which I entirely agree with, but sometimes, I'm still convinced I was abusive. I fucking hate answering this question, so hurrying up: I don't know if he's forgiven me. As for how others could reconcile, that's not for me to say. I know sometimes the answer is to NOT make amends and completely stay away from their abuser. It's not my right to tell others how to cope with their abuse. Have you ever forgiven someone for being abusive or allowed someone toxic back into your life? Did this person change for the better or not? My former best friend Colleen was toxic as all fuck hell, and I let her back in way too many times. No, she never changed. I honesty doubt she ever will, given her pride. When was the last time you did something “meant” for children? Do you think it’s okay for adults to do these things (ie. watch cartoons, have stuffed animals, dress in cute clothing, etc), or do you think there’s an age beyond which it becomes unacceptable - and if so, why? Hmmm... I know this was semi-recent, but whatever it was is evading me at the moment. I personally have zero issue with adults engaging in activities like that; let people do what they enjoy if they're not harming anyone, especially things as innocent as dressing how they think is cute, etc. I would far rather people "act like children" (not emotionally, you know what I mean) than run around the streets selling drugs and shit. What was the last thing to “trigger” you (as in, in a true mental health sense, I’m being serious here) and how did you cope with it? What kinds of things do you tend to find triggering? What do you do either avoid or face your triggers? When I was riding to the sleep study section of the health plaza, where the hospital is, my anxiety spiked quite a bit, recalling all of my ER stays for being suicidal. It didn't help that the psych hospital I visited most is also in that whole jumble of buildings. I dealt with it by reminding myself I was in that area for a very different reason, and Mom reassured me that where I would be staying was more like a small hotel room than a hospital bed, which was true, so that helped. Regarding the next question, I'm not gonna lie to ya, I have a stupid amount of PTSD triggers: certain music, shows, fandoms, places, smells, even tastes of certain foods. I tend to stay away from my major triggers, but I'll *sometimes* fight the tiny ones, because I want that sense of ownership of myself back. If you’re diagnosed with anything, do you feel that it accurately represents what you’re experiencing? Yes. What are some minor physical discomforts that really bug you (eyelash in your eye, a wedgie, rumpled socks, etc)? I'm VERY sensitive to feeling anything in my nose, and it leads to me needing to blow it a lot. I also can't stand having holes in my socks, but since I wear flip flops essentially everywhere, I don't experience this much. Are you ever afraid to admit to liking something because you’re afraid other people will judge you for it? What is the worst that’s ever happened as a result of you liking something different from the crowd? What about the best thing that’s come as a result of a unique interest? Y E P!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nothing really bad has happened because of admitting my interests, other than hearing things along the lines of "I don't get it." It's very odd, just how horribly receptive I am to judgment about things I like when I don't recall a time where I was ridiculed for anything. But anyway, the best thing to happen from sharing interests for me is making a new friend that likes the same thing, and I will IMMEDIATELY be closer to you than most people I associate with once you've helped me past that vulnerable spot of mine. Have you ever remained good friends with an ex? Yeah. Do you have a negative view of mentally ill people, or are you mentally ill yourself? Do you ever call others crazy, insane, etc? Do you ever call yourself those things? I'm mentally ill and empathize heavily with those who suffer themselves. I absolutely do not have a negative look on mental health sufferers; we don't choose to be victims. I'm definitely not a big fan of abusing terms like "insane," because I've fucking been there, and it's not a term to take lightly. I've thrown 'em around before, but I try to avoid it. I don't call myself any of those things nowadays, but in the deepest trench of my depression and PTSD, I honest to God think I fit the definition of "insane." Does it bother you to have people comment on what you’re eating, or do you not care? What are some comments that would bother you, if any? Do you ever comment on what other people are eating or make assumptions about their intakes? YES. JUST DON'T FUCKING COMMENT. I get EXTREMELY self-conscious when my mom does this sometimes when I occasionally need a small snack to hold me out overnight, and I absolutely never will say something to someone else. It's just rude, imo. Well, I guess if someone was really destroying their health and I was close to them, I would out of concern and be very gentle, but when regarding most people? I'm keeping my thoughts to my damn self. Do you like Redbull? I've never tried it and don't want to. I'm not an energy drink fan. Who is the last person you spent money on? My mom. I remember I bought us fast food when we were out once. What are you looking forward to in the next 4 days? G U Y S!!!!!!!!! I GET MY TATTOO TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!!! :'''') Also on the same day, I start my TMS therapy, which I have high hopes for. Have you ever gone a whole day without eating? No. Do you sometimes use your music player to help you fall asleep? No, but I did that for years back in middle school. Have you ever had a crush on someone “too young” for you? No. Do you shave your legs more than once a week? Haaaaaaaaa. If you could cuddle with anyone right now, who would you pick? I really wish I could cuddle my late pup Teddy again. :/ I was thinking about that recently. Are you tanned? God no. I never am. Do you try to wear dresses whenever you can? No. I wish I was in a shape where I was comfortable wearing spring dresses again... I had this floral skull one in high school that I adored. Are you wearing something that belongs to someone else? No. Have you ever been called a bitch? Yes. Did you like the person you last kissed when you kissed them? I loved her. Who did you have a meaningful conversation with last? Sara. Do you have feelings for someone? Yeah, but they're like... on a leash, you could say. I don't let 'em run free and wild, and I know that even if nothing comes of those feelings again, it's fine. Are you trying to avoid liking somebody at the moment? I think Jason will be this answer for a very long time, if not forever, given the trauma and all. I have to remind myself frequently that I love his memory, not him, because I don't even know him anymore. It's been YEARS since we spoke. Just like I've changed incredibly, I'm sure he has, too. If you saw life in black & white, would that be okay with you? I mean, it would suck, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. When you wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep, what kinds of things are you likely to do? How often do you find you have trouble sleeping? I do exactly what you shouldn't do and get back on the laptop. I'd say I most often get on WoW and refresh the auctions I have up because that tends to tire me out because I do that shit manually to avoid any addon mishaps, and I have a looooot to put up as a gold farmer. What was the last lengthy packet you filled out? Something to see if I qualified for a sleep study. Are you a patient person? What is one way you have a lot of patience? What about not very much patience at all? I am NOT patient, at least regarding more trivial things, like sitting in waiting rooms. I do have patience though with other people with more serious things, like getting someone to open up to me. At what time during the day do you tend to feel your best? What about the worst? When I first wake up. It's a "fresh start" and it's nice to feel rested. Plus, I open a fresh can of cold soda as my "coffee" for lack of better word, haha. I'm in my worst mood probably late afternoon/early evening, by which time I am incredibly bored and just dulled down. What was the last thing you did that you wish you could take back or do differently? The last thing... I dunno. How frequently do you stay overnight somewhere that isn’t your own home? What things do you miss about home when you’re away? Do you tend to get homesick easily? Pretty much never. I do miss my room and its privacy when I'm away from home, but I wouldn't say I get homesick all that easily, so long as I have WiFi, haha. Do you tend to eat more in the beginning of the day or at night? Do you have a tendency to snack when you’re bored? If so, what kinds of snacks do you normally go for? Not necessarily the beginning of the day, but definitely more than at night. I am BAD about snacking when I'm extremely bored, but at the very least I'm conscious enough to try and find something semi-healthy, like granola bars, fruits, a scoop of peanut butter, but I also sometimes just eat like... a slice of bread or a tortilla. Horrible choice. I'm a carb fiend and I hate it. If you have any dietary restrictions, do you ever miss foods you can’t have? If not, what’s something you haven’t had for a long time that you wish you could eat again? I thankfully don't have any. I've been craving cheesecake like a madman lately. :< The spicy shrimp fritas from Olive Garden, too. Is there something you still can’t do even though you’re an adult or might be expected to do this thing? I don't have my license, and my driver's permit is even expired. I'm terrified of driving. I also don't have a job, and I can't cook. When was the last time you congratulated someone? Were you happy for them, indifferent, jealous? Uhhh I think someone on Facebook had a baby. Of course I was happy for them. What was the last milestone you reached in your life (graduating, buying a car, starting a family, etc)? What milestone are you going for next, if any? Um... I haven't reached a true milestone in years. Hell, I don't think since I started recovery from the breakup. Do you enjoy getting comments or messages? How likely are you to leave comments or messages for other people? Yeah, it makes me feel cared about. It really depends on the platform on how much I leave other people comments, and I'm extremely shy about messaging, but I'll do it sometimes. When are you most likely to scream (either out of fright, anger, or whatever)? Do you scream or yell often? When was the last time someone screamed at you (or in your presence)? Frustration, for sure. I've screamed into a pillow more than once. I definitely don't yell or especially scream often. I'm sure the last person to yell at me was Mom, but I don't remember about what. What would you say is your STRONGEST emotion? Maybe not the most frequent, but the most intense? And what emotion do you feel most weakly, even if you might feel it more often? I'd saaaay... maybe love. When I love something/someone, I love HARD. I think I experience joy the weakest; it's very muted for me. And lastly, what are you listening to? Is this a band you listen to a lot "The Heretic Anthem" by Slipknot. I wouldn't say I listen to them a lot, but I have been more than usual lately.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''the heretic anthem'' by slipknot

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sockparade · 4 years

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tips for surviving the pandemic: things i learned from my immigrant parents

It’s hard to believe that it’s only been a little over a week since the WHO announced that the coronavirus (COVID-19) was officially a pandemic. This has been a long, challenging week for a lot of people and it is nothing short of terrifying to read reports of what is happening in Asia and Europe as many predict that we’ll likely endure a similar fate here in the United States. In the midst of all of this chaos and uncertainty, I’ve been reminded of so many lessons that my Taiwanese immigrant parents taught me. I’m sharing them here so that others might also benefit. Thanks Ma. Thanks Daddy.

你昨天已經出去了.

“You already went out yesterday.“

1. Learn how to stay home. Our family is eight days into self-isolating at home and Tony asked me this morning if I had cabin fever. And strangely, the answer is no. I’m not. Not to downplay the difficulty of this moment but my experience with this “shelter-in-place” ordinance reminds of pretty much all my summers between kindergarten and 8th grade. Both of my parents worked full-time so summer was just three blissful months of nothing. No structure, no plans, no camps, no playdates, and no responsibilities. My parents never made me feel like I was missing a thing by staying home and I don’t remember ever feeling bored. There were always library books to read, stories to write, and thoughts to journal. Hours were spent playing school with my big sister (now a first grade teacher!), making up random games like who can avoid touching the carpet longest, learning Kim Zmeskal’s latest gymnastics floor routine, writing lyrics to Kenny G saxophone solos, and rehearsing for our variety show that we would perform to our tired parents at the end of the day. And that’s not even including the hours we spent watching The Price is Right, CHIPS, Knight Rider, and Airwolf (yep, no cable).

As a teenager I carefully plotted all my hangouts with friends so that I didn’t have too many consecutive days when I was out of the house. Whenever I asked my parents if I could hang out with friends, they would always say, “But you already went out yesterday. What’s wrong with staying home? Why do you always have to go out?” It was as if having too much fun two days in a row was off limits. If there was a big party on Friday, I would purposely make sure I stayed home Wednesday and Thursday just to increase the chances of being able to go out on Friday. I know a lot of people talk about how awful their high school years were but I was one of those lucky kids who had a really great group of friends that made me feel seen, loved, and cared for. The downside was that I couldn’t get enough of it. I was always thinking about the next hangout, the next event, the next thing. It took me all the way until my late twenties to fully appreciate the fine art of staying home and to finish my unexpected transformation into the expert homebody that I am today.

I’m reminded of that old quote by Blaise Pascal, “All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone."

It’s great to be out and about, but it’s also really important to learn how to stay home.

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晚上要吃什麼？清冰箱.

“What are we eating for dinner?” “Cleaning the fridge.”

2. Be creative with what you have. I love food. Not in a foodie sense, but I get a lot of pleasure out of eating. I’m not a food snob by any stretch of the imagination. I thoroughly enjoy a Stouffer’s frozen lasagna or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich as much as I enjoy a fancy, inventive, Michelin-starred meal at Commis. What’s hard for me is when food is eaten as sustenance rather than with delight. But my parents taught me that you can always take pride in preparing a meal. No matter your ingredients.

My mom is an excellent cook. I know a lot of people think their mom is a good cook but my mom is legitimately skilled in the kitchen. There were some nights when I’d ask what was for dinner and my mom would just reply, “Cleaning the fridge.”

Now for some, this might sound terrifying. But my mom could honestly make something out of nothing. I still crave my dad’s simple egg and garlic fried rice. My parents raised me to be able to make an tasty meal just from rummaging in the pantry and fridge for random leftover things. There were plenty of summers where lunches and snacks were an individual culinary adventure for each of us kids. I still remember the day I witnessed my baby sister add a Kraft single on top of her onion ramen noodles. She saw my confusion, shrugged and said, “You should try it, it’s good.”

With all the hoarding folks have been doing during this pandemic, I’ve found myself feeling quite anxious. Trying to calculate if we have enough food. Estimating how many more meals we can eat at home before we need to make another grocery run. As someone who struggles with a scarcity mentality it has been hard not to panic. But then I keep reminding myself that I know how to make good food using just whatever’s available.

You know, I was pretty disappointed with Mary H.K. Choi’s second novel, Permanent Record, given how much I enjoyed her debut novel, Emergency Contact. But I was absolutely thrilled with the shine she gave to what her protagonist calls “Hot Snacks”.

Here’s an excerpt from Permanent Record that is a beautiful ode to creative food mashups and immigrant kids everywhere:

“I edit and post a Shin Ramyun Black video set to music. My favorite instant noodles with three flavor packets and so much garlic. It’s a classic Korean HotSnack, especially when you throw in cut-up hot dogs, frozen dumplings, extra kimchi - and this is where the artistry comes in- eggs, cheese, corn from a can, and a drizzle of sesame oil on top. And furikake if you’re feeling wealthy. The next night I put up a bacon, egg, and cheese not in a bagel but in a glazed honey bun. Laced with sriracha and pan fried on the outside. Then it’s chilaquiles with Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos and chorizo. Jamaican beef patty casserole disrespected with a smothering of Japanese curry and broiled. With Crystal Hot Sauce over the top and pickled banana peppers. I’m trolling with that one but the controversy is berserk. When I run out of old videos, I make saag paneer naanchos with Trader Joe’s frozen Indian food, and it’s a hit. Especially when I add yogurt and a thick layer of crushed-up Takis on top.”

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看連續劇.

“Watch soap operas.”

3. Find a way to escape. I’m generally pro technology but I’ll admit I’m a little bummed at the way iPhones and iPads have made TV viewing such an individual activity. I like how Disney+ has gotten some families back to watching TV together again. Although I will say, we really coddle our kids these days. I grew up in a time when movie ratings only applied in the theaters and we watched movies with our families like Alien, The Fly, and Gremlins. We were scared out of our minds and sometimes could only watch through the cracks between our fingers covering our eyes because it was so scary. Okay, this also might be why I can’t watch horror movies as an adult.

From a young age, my parents taught me that watching other people’s drama unfold on screen is one of the best way to escape your own drama. Some people say binge watching became a thing when the TV networks started releasing shows on DVD. Others give credit to Netflix releasing their original content a whole season at a time. But truth be told, I first learned how to binge watch from my parents.

We would rent 30-40 VHS cassette tapes from that random spot in Bellaire Chinatown. Can you picture it? You needed multiple plastic bags to transport that many VHS tapes.

Do you remember the one about the dying mother who needed to find homes for each of her 7 children? I don’t think it’s normal for a 10 year old to cry so much but you better believe it’s made me learn the true value of a soap opera escape hatch.

Are you in a pandemic? Now’s the perfect time to pick up that YA novel, binge that reality show, start that kdrama, or rewatch all six seasons of The Sopranos again.

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下個禮拜會下雨.

“It’s going to rain next week.”

4. Be informed about what’s ahead. If you ask either of my parents about the weather at any given time they can reliably tell you the daily percent chance of precipitation and humidity for at least seven days out. They’ve always been this way. They would inform me of the weather at various points throughout the week. They planned their yard work and car washes around the weather forecast. There’s something about the way the weather forecast is available to everyone. And it feels like it’s just a matter of making the small extra effort to access it and gain a slight advantage. I feel like so much of the immigrant mentality is to be diligent in making the right choices to not screw yourself over and seizing opportunities whenever you can. And it wasn’t just weather but this is such an obvious example of it.

I remember my dad saying to me once, "Can you imagine if someone decided to read every book in their local library? If they just went shelf by shelf and systematically read all the books? You could do it, you know. It’s free, it doesn’t cost any money to check out a book from the library. But no one really does it.”

I think immigrant parents get a bad reputation for forwarding chain letters and health/science hoaxes they get on email, WeChat and Line. And in a pandemic, yes, they are definitely susceptible to misinformation, rumors and flat out untruths. But the thought behind it seems right.

The mistrust of government leadership is actually quite relevant right now in this pandemic. Many immigrants left countries with governments that were overtly corrupt, oppressive, and used propaganda to influence its citizens. And while many Americans still take pride in living in a country that verbally champions freedom and democracy, the truth is that our government has already failed us and lied to us in many ways. During this pandemic, we cannot wait on leaders to tell us what to do. We must be diligent in reading for ourselves, seeking experts, using our critical thinking skills, and making preparations accordingly.

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會不會冷?

“Are you cold?”

5. Check in with yourself. Check in with others. I have so many memories of my parents walking through the living room and asking me and my sisters if we were cold. It felt like they couldn’t walk past the thermostat without asking us if they needed to raise it or lower it. As if they couldn’t hear us sneeze and wonder if they needed to turn off the ceiling fan. They couldn’t see us sitting in a dim room without turning on a light for us. There are so many times I fell asleep reading on the couch and woke up with a blanket over me. Or sometimes I was fully awake doing something random, like playing Egyptian Rat Screw with my sisters (a cardgame for the uninitiated), and my mom would walk by and wordlessly drop a warm, heavy blanket over my shoulders. That’s care, y’all. Consistent, immediate action, and often without words.

The tip here is to pay attention to your discomfort during a pandemic. There’s this immigrant stereotype of stoicism and that’s true to some degree but maybe the resilience is made possible not because of unnatural toughness but largely because immigrant parents can also be so incredibly perceptive and tender in some very tangible ways.

When everything is chaotic around you and you’re busy multitasking these next few months, don’t ignore your needs. Notice how you’re feeling. Physically and emotionally. Where are you carrying your stress and tension in your body? You don’t have to tough it out. Oh and remember to check in with your people on how they’re feeling. Is there a light switch you can turn on for someone?

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笑死人.

“Laugh to death.”

6. Laugh to survive. Look, we didn’t have the perfect family or anything like that. We’ve definitely had our share of difficult times, financial stress, health issues, arguments, and pain. But my parents also really knew how to laugh and taught us to laugh with abandon. Like, bent over, tears running out of your eyes, can’t breathe kind of laughing. Our dinner table was kind of like a writer’s room. It was difficult to tell a mediocre story. You had better come prepared with a punchline or a point. It was a tough crowd, every night. On many occasions I stopped myself halfway through a story upon the self-realization that there was no real way to land the plane. Polite laughs were nowhere to be found, except perhaps a charitable smile from my baby sister. But it didn’t stop us from trying. I think my sisters and I are all probably better storytellers for it and we definitely have learned to try to bring humor into difficult times.

I know that this pandemic is so incredibly dark and depressing that it can sometimes feel disrespectful, inappropriate, or childish to laugh at anything. But my parents taught me that you laugh to survive. Nothing is ever so dark that you can’t find a reason to laugh. And sometimes you really need to find something to laugh about.

I’ve been taking long breaks each day from major media news outlets but I have been finding such joy and laughter from the meme creators on IG and the comedic geniuses on Twitter. In Taiwanese when something’s really funny, people will say a phrase that is imperfectly translated as laugh to death. Like you killed a person it was so funny. Now’s the time to find that content or those people who will get you to laugh to death.

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我要去挪車.

“I’m going to go re-park the cars.”

7. Go to bed with a plan for the next morning. I grew up in a suburb of Houston, Texas where one property developer built the entire neighborhood and used the same eight or nine floor plans for all the houses but changed up the brick and trim color to keep things interesting. Most homes have a long driveway that connects a garage set near the backdoor of a home to the street. By the time I was driving, we had four cars in total -- two in the garage and two on the driveway. At the end of the day when everyone was home for the night and my dad was getting ready to go to bed, he’d announce, “I’m going to go re-park the cars.” Then we’d all kind of stop what we were doing and rearrange the order of the cars to match our morning departure schedules. This meant figuring out who was leaving when in the morning and sometimes also prompted brief check-in conversations about any changes in our usual routine.

In a pandemic it can sometimes feel like there are a million different things to attend to and large conceptual concerns that demand your attention. But there’s something calming and centering about spending a few minutes each night thinking through specifically what needs to happen just tomorrow. Not the day after or next week. Get super tactical and specific about what tomorrow morning looks like. Check-in with your partner about any aberrations to your schedule (e.g. I have a super important conference call at 7am tomorrow) to minimize any unnecessary surprises. There’s something magical about setting up your morning that helps you rest just a little easier at night.

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星期三我們有禱告會.

“On Wednesdays we have prayer meeting.”

8. Make time for your spirituality. Growing up my parents both had physically demanding jobs. My mom was a seamstress for many years, providing alterations at my aunt and uncle’s dry cleaners. She later worked in an elementary school cafeteria and then eventually became a classroom aide for special needs students. My dad worked at that same dry cleaners for years until he got a job at the post office. He then became a letter carrier, delivering mail on foot. The summer months were especially grueling, carrying a heavy sack of mail in 100 degree, humid weather, and walking until sweat soaked his shirts and blisters formed on his feet. They had every excuse to skip weeknight events. But unless they were sick in bed, I can’t remember a time when they missed their weekly prayer meeting with their friends from church.

Pandemics have an unsettling way of forcing us to confront our mortality and can trigger a bunch of unresolved shit that has been bubbling underneath the surface. We’ve lost some of our usual coping mechanisms and it can be super hard to quiet the anxieties, fears, and other demons that we usually try to keep under control. This isn’t a lecture about a particular faith or belief system. It’s just a reminder to prioritize your existential questions, your interior life, and your connection to things much bigger than yourself -- whether that’s a community, a yoga practice, a faith group, a tradition, or something else.

I have a fledgling meditation practice that I’ve been trying to strengthen since last year. When I say fledgling I mean that sometimes I bail before the ten minutes is up and check my phone. Even though I’m not very good at it yet, I can really tell the difference on the days that I make time for it. Our church started hosting its weekly Sunday service online and that’s challenging for me because a church service feels like it’s designed to be so much about the physical rhythm of going to a place, seeing faces of people I love, hearing their voices co-mingling with mine in song and in prayer, and tasting the bread and wine in my mouth. The online service was short, and just for viewing through a zoom conference call, but there was still something meaningful about setting aside that time Sunday morning, asking our wiggly kids to be present, and saying the liturgy out loud knowing that in homes all across the country, other people are doing the same.

If things are really going to get as bad as some are predicting, we’ll need the spiritual strength to make it to the other side. Those habits are hard to form overnight. My parents taught me that you really have to make the time for your spirituality non-negotiable, so that you won’t abandon it when it’s inconvenient or when you are too tired.

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沒辦法.

“What choice do we have?”

9. Rise to the occasion. Whenever my parents are telling old war stories about things they had to do to get to where they are today, inevitably one of us will say, “Man that’s crazy, how did you manage to do it?” And instead of pointing to some super personality trait of theirs or some complex self-help principle, they always say, “We had no choice.” It’s not said in a defeated way, but in a posture of accepting that life can be cruel, unfair, and capricious. And that it’s not helpful to dwell too long on the why’s and how’s. My parents taught me that you can’t stay in despair mode. You eventually have to push yourself into problem solving mode and you do whatever it takes to move forward.

This coronavirus is so unlike anything we’ve ever experienced in our lifetime. It is so unprecedented for me that my brain is having a hard time processing the reality of what’s happening right now and the rest of my lived experience. I spent the first few days of this week just being overwhelmed, anxious, angry, and irritable. At this point though, I’m in go mode. I’m doing what needs to be done for our family and taking care of business. What choice do we have? I can hear my parents saying it. One day, if we’re lucky, we’ll say it to our kids too.

#coronavirus #immigrants #immigrant parents #survival tips #advice #covid-19 #pandemic #childhood #lifelessons

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jamkookies · 5 years

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Rings on Sale

Description : A trip to Malta for the shooting of Bon Voyage seems peaceful enough until the moment things take an unexpected turn...

Word count : 2.6k

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If there is one thing worse than being chased it is the effect it leaves on you afterwards. You couldn't make one step without thoroughly checking your surroundings, ears perked up at the smallest sound.

There was no avoiding it.

The best option for now was lying low.

You both made sure you kept in the shadows, trying to make yourselves as unnoticeable as possible. And for some reason Jungkook had gone back to being his clingy self, not letting go of you for a moment.

You were not complaining, though. You were enjoying the warmth coming from him a little too much to tell him off.

"Are you sure you're ok?" he asks and his hand rubs the small of your back. "I kinda fell on top of you earlier. Sorry. I must've crushed you."

"It's nothing I've never handled before." you answer.

His lips twitch and he can't seem to hold the snort coming through his nose. The mechanisms of your brain finally click into place and you dramatically roll your eyes.

"I meant it as in I've held you before, not– ugh! That was one time and you were leaning on your forearms."

You slap a hand across your mouth, realizing you'd just said that out loud, but then again, no one was really hearing. Jungkook's mouth stretches into a wide smile, all of his bunny teeth on display.

"So you do remember the details, huh?" he teases.

You give him a challenging stare, not backing down for a second. "It was not exactly something you can forget."

"I know." he says and his eyes dip down to your throat. "I keep replaying it in my head ever since it happened."

"Nothing happened." you object.

"Something happened." Jungkook corrects you. "It may not seem like a big deal to you but it is to me. That was the first time you trusted me enough to let yourself go. No barriers."

You gulp as the flashbacks hit you one by one. It was true. You'd surrendered to him that night, letting him take things as far as he wanted to. Not care for once. But as much as he'd explored you, as much as he'd looked through the deepest crevices of your soul, he hadn't crossed the line. You'd seen the willingness in his lustful eyes and how he had crushed it down for you and just like that, the unmistakable love in your heart had only grown bigger.

"But I also remember quite clearly that I did let off some of my weight on you, so I wasn't totally leaning on my forearms." Jungkook continues, clueless to your train of thought.

"Yeah well, I guess I didn't feel it." you reply.

He tips his head back and laughs loudly. "Is my shamelessness rubbing off on you?"

You reach on your toes and press a soft kiss on his forehead. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

He cups your face with both hands, staring intently at your eyes. "You're cute." he says in a small voice.

"You take that ba–"

The sentence, however, remains unfinished as you notice the way his eyes are fixed pointedly on the thumb that cradles your cheek. He was staring at it like it held the secrets of the universe.

"Jungkook?"

"Y/N." he breathes. "I know how to get us out of here."

* * *

"I can't believe we didn't think of this before." Jungkook says as he tugs at your interlocked hands, urging you to follow him.

"Kook, for the last time, no. I'm not letting you sell your ring. It's a gift from Jimin."

It had been a while since you'd been roaming around the streets in search of a jewellery store or he had been dragging you along was more like it. You'd refused from the beginning. That ring meant so much to him that he had even worn it for the trip here. And he never wore rings unless he was performing.

"We have no other choice." he insists. Scanning the street for any pursuers had now turned into an instinct and that's exactly what he does before crossing it. "Just trust me on this, Y/N. We'll do whatever you say afterwards."

You sigh deeply in surrender. "I'll buy you a better one, then."

His steps falter. "You would?"

"Sure I would. And a necklace. And a bracelet too. I'll get you anything you want."

There's no describing the expression on his face as it's not exactly happiness nor sadness, but something in between. Something shifts behind his eyes and you're suddenly pulled into his chest, a warm hand on the back of your head and the other one down your spine.

"I don't deserve you." he says.

A laugh bubbles up in your throat. "You're really that desperate for some jewelery? Why didn't you just say so? I would've bought them for you way earlier."

"I don't care about the jewelery." His voice is at least an octave lower. "I only care about you."

It really wasn't fair how he played with your heart like this. Throwing it around carelessly, crushing it into dust, putting it on fire. Jeon Jungkook owned this useless organ and there was nothing you could do about it. You wished you could stay like this for a little longer, you really did, but the rational side of you takes over and you remind him that the streets were not the safest place for cuddling. Not when the cursed bodyguards might still be in your tracks, waiting for the right moment to finally snatch you away and to never let you go again.

A silver glint catches your eye.

"Jungkook, there!" you exclaim in a hushed voice, still careful to keep it down.

He turns at the direction your finger is pointing and a look of victory flashes behind his eyes upon noticing the jewelery store. A few quick strides and you're inside, marvelling at the beautiful works of art reflecting brilliant light patterns across the glass. Behind the desk a young lady is seated, flipping through the pages of a magazine, the words of which you're not able to understand. She starts by the sound of the door hitting the bell and lifts her head to take a look at the two new clients entering her store.

And then she just freezes, gaping at the both of you with such raw intensity you look down at yourself to see if anything was wrong with your appearance. She flicks her eyes between you and Jungkook.

"Y/N? " She gasps. A turn of the head. "Jungkook? "

Oh great. A fan.

Now what were you gonna do?

"Oh my God!"she gasps and rubs her eyes with curled up fists, still not believing what stood in front of her. Then, as if the sight was too much, she whirls and disappears into a small room.

"Um...maybe we should go." you whisper to Jungkook.

"No, don't go!" her shrill voice is heard from inside and she peeks her head out. "Sorry. I think I panicked. Is it really you?"

Wait a second. The girl had just talked in Korean.

Jungkook shares the same surprised expression on his face.

Unspoken words pass between your eyes.

There was no escaping.

You had to face this head-on.

"Hi." you simply reply, a soft smile already blooming on the corners of your lips. You weren't worried about her being a fan, not at all. It made your chest swell with pride, if anything. But these weren't exactly the best moments to be dealing with fans right now, having been on escape-mode for quite a while.

"Do you know us?" Jungkook asks.

She fervently nods her head and her restless fidgeting makes it obvious that she's buzzing with excitement. "I'm a huge fan."

"Wow, we have fans in Malta!" Jungkook whistles. "How do you know Korean?"

"I learned it on my own." she answers shyly.

"That's impressive." you say and when Jungkook hums his agreement she all but blushes a vibrant red.

"I'm really glad." you add with another disarming smile. "Look, we're on a mission. Would you help us?"

Your words render her speechless and she points a shaking finger at herself in question.

"Yes, you. What's your name, if i may ask?"

"Ħilda."

"Okay, Ħilda.The staff divided us into teams and our mission is to survive for one day with our own money, but without using any credit cards. We want to sell Jungkook's ring over here. Do you think you can do that for us?"

She stares at the said piece in Jungkook's thumb. "S-sure." she stutters.

"Good, because I was thinking Taehyung's team would beat us." Jungkook says.

"Are the others here too?" She turns her head to the front door, searching with her eyes for any other members.

"They're in the city but we split up." you quickly explain. "It's every man to himself right now."

She giggles.

"So, how much can you give us for this?" Jungkook slides the ring off his thumb and puts it on the glass counter. Ħilda marvels at the silver piece and she reaches with a hesitant hand.

"Just the fact that it belongs to you makes it ten times more valuable." she says.

"Oh no, please. We just want a regular price." you intervene.

"If it were for me, I would give you the whole store's posessings," she says, earning a chuckle from both you and Jungkook. "–but the thing is I'm just responsible for the desk. My dad is the one who deals with the actual trade. I'll be right back." she continues and disappears into the room once again with such speed she almost trips.

For some reason that reminded you of the times as a kid when you'd have friends over and that trip to the kitchen would be fast as lightning, for fear of leaving them alone with your mom.

Not a moment later, Ħilda's dad appears, or so you think, judging by the fine white roots of his hair. He nods a greeting at the both of you and you do the same in return. Ħilda takes the ring from the counter and practically shoves it in front of his face. "Araw kemm hu sabiħ, papa'!"

After that, they exchange an endless string of words, the meanings of which you find too difficult to grasp. Still, your ears manage to detect a please from Ħilda. Her father's eyes sweep a look at the both of you from head to toe. "Huwa dan il-BTS?" he says to the girl, but still looking at you.

"Iva! Aħna BTS! " you confirm to the man in excitement, joyous to the interest he had shown in knowing you. He smiles endearingly and starts to give the ring a thorough examination. After a minute or so of squinting he raises his head and looks at Jungkook.

"900 euros." he says.

Wow. Jimin sure took gifts seriously.

Jungkook's mouth gapes open in shock. "Is he messing with us?" he asks Ħilda.

She shakes her head no. Her father looked quite serious, actually and he didn't come off as the jokester type. "My dad says it's a very valuable ring."

Indeed it was.

Jungkook voices his appreciation and that makes Ħilda's dad retreat into the room, most likely to get the money.

"Thank you." You put your hand on top of hers. "If we could ever make it up to–"

"Oh no, no, don't worry! I won't ask for photographs. I know you're not allowed to."

This girl was a true gem.

You almost sigh in relief. The last thing you needed right now was for pics of you to leak all over the internet.

"Still, I think it won't kill us if we sign an autograph." Jungkook looks at her curiously. "If you want to, of course."

The girl's eyes sparkle in anticipation and she hastily grabs a pen laying on the counter.

"This is the best day of my life."

* * *

"You got a four poster bed?"

"Thought we'd get ahead of things a little bit."

Jungkoook wheezes when your fist connects to his stomach but he quickly regains composure and smacks your arm. "What's the point in getting separate rooms, anyway?" he whines.

He had a point but that didn't stop you from getting at least a little bit annoyed. This boy kept making decisions on his own, without even acknowledging your opinions.

After getting the money, the first thing you both did was treat yourselves to a nice hot meal. The wild adventures of the last couple of days had made you forget the last time you'd put anything on your stomach. After that, you'd gone straight to a hotel, leaving the booking of the room up to him.

And look where that had gotten you.

"You know what, I don't even care anymore at this point." you huff and close the door behind you, slumping face-first into the comfortable, artificial whiteness of the sheets on the bed. But from the moment you turn sideways and your shoulder leans heavily on it, a groan escapes your lips.

"Hey, you okay?"

The bed creaks in protest as you feel it shift under Jungkook's weight.

"My old wound is starting to hurt again." you answer half-heartedly.

"Let me see."

Too tired to put up a fight, you obey and get in a sitting position, leaning on the heels of your hands. He guides your shoulders with each palm but then his hands hover mid-air.

"Um...how do I.... the shirt–"

"It's okay. I have a tank top underneath." you say and try to pull the shirt over your head but fail miserably as the pain only gets more intense. "I"m stuck." your muffled voice is heard.

Jungkook is quick to help, slipping the shirt off entirely.

This feels way too intimate.

You hear his sharp intake of breath, as subtle as it is upon landing sight on your now exposed collarbones. Then, as if mentally scolding himself, he shakes his head and moves on to your wound. A reddish hue has formed around the small circle, marking the once trapped bullet underneath it.

It looks irritated.

"This brings back old memories." Jungkook says and his fingers trail a path in its wake.

"The roles are reversed." you add.

He chuckles lightly. "You took good care of me back then."

"And you also didn't let me drown."

"I kinda regret it, though. You talk way too much."

Silence.

"Do you really regret it?" you ask, eyes staring directly into his, waiting for an answer.

"I was kidd-"

"No, I mean do you actually regret it? Coming after me? Going through all of this trouble?"

His expression suddenly turns serious and those dark orbs of his bore into you with an unfaltering intensity.

"No."

He leans forward and his lips lightly brush your shoulder. "And I would appreciate it if you stopped asking me the same question because I'm not changing my mind." he mumbles on your exposed skin and you can feel every vibration reverberating through your whole body.

He doesn't stop.

His lips now travel from your shoulder to your collarbone till they rest against your throat. "You need some medicine." he mumbles again and just like that, those sinful lips retreat from your skin, making you feel empty and hollow.

"I'll go ask for some downstairs." he says and makes to leave but your hand shoots out and grabs his sweater.

"Wait!"

He pauses.

"I'm sorry, Kook. Don't leave."

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petiteplumbobyt · 4 years

Text

Sims 3: The 13 Souls Challenge Rules

I found the rules for this for The Sims 4 & thought it was a brilliant idea. I have adapted them to be useful in The Sims 3, tweaking some parts since the gameplay is a lot different & some features are not available for The Sims 3 version. These are my rules.

Part One: The Mortal

In the Thirteen Ghosts Challenge, your sim is tasked to capture thirteen souls via Book of Life. Once all thirteen are dead, your sim must "summon" all of them to complete the challenge.

☆ Create a sim in your image. Or not. It can be anyone. The choice is yours. But the Simcronomicon states that you must adhere to the following rules:

• Gender: Any

• Age:

- Young Adult or Adult. (Easy Mode)

- Elder. (Hard Mode)

• Traits: Any

• Lifetime Wishes:

- Illustrious Author.

- Master of the Arts.

- Perfect Mind, Perfect Body.

- Physical Perfection.

- Professional Author.

- Renaissance Sim.

• Only one sim is allowed.

☆ After creating your sim, move them down on any lot, in any neighborhood. There are no restrictions on which lot you can buy so long as your sim can afford it. Budget and luxuries shouldn’t bother the deity and their mortal sim.

☆ Once moved in, they’re now breathing, smiling, dying, awaiting your command. Before you make that first action, you must change the gameplay setting. Below are the approved settings based on the Simcronomicon:

• Sim Lifespan: Short.

• Auto-age Sims: Yes

- For your sim to preserve their youth (and keeping Grim at bay), have your sim purchase the Young Again LTR.

- Essence of Life from Cowplants is also acceptable.

Now that reality has been molded to the ritual’s demands, we can finally begin.

☆ Your sim’s first task is to Max out the following skills:

1. The Painting/Writing Skill: This ensures that they master the Soul (if your sim has any of the Heart, Body or Mind LTWs).

2. The Instrument Skills: Maxing out a skill in any instrument ensures that they master the Heart (if your sim has any of the soul, Body or Mind LTWs).

3. The Athletic Skill: This ensures that they master the Body (if your sim has any of the Soul, Heart or Mind LTWs).

4. The Logic Skill: This ensures that they master the Mind (if your sim has any of the Soul, Heart or Body LTWs).

• Maxing out the skills listed above allows your sim to master all of the essences.

• The "Perfect Mind, Perfect Body" LTW will allow your sim to master both Body & Mind at once.

☆ They then must go on to complete their Lifetime Wish. As stated by the Simcronomicon, your sim can master the soul, heart, body & mind.

The Lifetime Wishes you choose determine which main essence your sim masters. Mastering all essences is beneficial when it comes to scoring.

• Illustrious Author.

- A keen eye for visual beauty helps maintain one's healthy soul.

• Perfect Mind, Perfect Body

- A well maintained physique gives respect to one’s body.

- Ascension to the heavens is a testament to one’s mind.

• Physical Perfection.

- A well maintained physique gives respect to one’s body.

• Professional Author

- Knowledge of languages cleanses one's soul.

• Master of the Arts.

- The sights, the sounds... It's not love that has one's heart, It's Mastering the Arts.

• Renaissance Sim.

- Ascension to the heavens is a testament to one’s mind.

Part Two: The Thirteen Souls

☆ After completing their LTW, your sim can finally “Capture the Epic Saga” of any sim. Unknown to most deities, capturing sagas is actually capturing souls.

☆ The Simcronomicon states that thirteen essences must be captured in lyrical form and in thirteen lines. Below are the thirteen essences: Seven Deadly Sins and Six Ethereal Truths.

☆ ESSENCE:

• Lust

- Commitment Issues Trait.

- Must be Girlfriend/Boyfriend.

• Gluttony

- Diva Trait

- Must be 5 Star Celebrity

• Greed

- Kleptomaniac Trait

• Sloth

- Couch Potato Trait

• Wrath

- Hot-Headed Trait

• Envy

- Mean-Spirited Trait

• Pride

- Snob Trait

• Mind

- Genius Trait

• Body

- Athetic Trait

• Heart

- Hopeless Romantic Trait.

- Must be Girlfriend/Boyfriend.

• Soul

- Virtuoso Trait.

• Blood

- Any Trait.

- Must be Son/Daughter.

• Water

- One shared Trait.

- Must be Best Friend.

☆ The Blood essence requires a son or a daughter. If your sim is a girl, they are allowed to give birth and keep the baby for 24 hours. If your sim is an elder, they are allowed to adopt a baby or a child. The baby or child can stay with your sim for 24 hours, but after that, you must move them out to any household.

☆ If a sim has any overlapping traits, such as one sim having the Couch Potato and Kleptomaniac trait (how foul), you must choose which trait they will represent.

☆ The Observant LTR is allowed and is encouraged since hunting for souls is taxing.

☆ As a charitable deity, you can give homes to homeless sims--just don’t let them move in with your main sim. You are allowed to use the cheat “freerealestate on” for these homeless sims. However, giving homes to custom-made or player-made sims is prohibited. This gives bad juju to the ritual.

☆ When your sim has "captured someone’s saga" (once your sim takes the life of another), you must then write a Non-Fiction book. The title of the book should be the sim’s name, and the description should be the essence. So if Joe Sim represents Water, name the book "Joe Sim" with “Water” in brackets.

☆ You can keep these books inside a bookcase or on your sim. Be careful not to sell any "books of life". If you sell a book of life that is linked to a dead sim, then that sim must be replaced.

☆ If you opt to keep it in the bookcase, it’s best to sell any books that came with it. You really don’t need a copy of Where's Bella?.

Part Three: The Offering

☆ Firstly, Urn's must be kept on your home lot. This links the spirit to you.

☆ When a captured sim dies, your sim must plant a flower as an offering. As stated in the Simcronomicon, the act of planting a flower serves as a reminder on how many captured sims have died and how many captured sims are alive.

☆ You must plant flowers in a Planter. Flowers planted on the ground are not counted. This helps the deity distinguish which plants are for ritual and which plants are for hobby.

☆ The Garden Pots can be placed indoors or outdoors. They can be inside one room or in their own room with thematic decor. It is up to you on how you would organize these. Creativity is your only limit, my dear deity.

☆ Bottom-line, you must always have 13 Planters that represents the 13 sims.

☆ Planting death flowers in the Planters increases the potency of the ritual. A better flower means a better soul. Since ghosts don’t consume mortal food, they feed on love and care that your sim provides to their flower. Ever wondered why we don’t offer oregano or cucumber to the dead?

☆ You are allowed to plant higher quality flowers if someone kicks the bucket. But disposing or replacing any flower, living or dead, taints the ritual’s purity. So be mindful of the offerings, and do not be tempted to replace that Excellent flower with a Magnificent one. Improving a flower’s quality can only be done through fertilisers.

Part Four: The Summoning

☆ Deceased sims should remain on your lot to keep you company. However, they cannot move into your household as it will ruin the ritual. When all 13 sims are dead and all the 13 pots are flowered, the ritual of the thirteen must commence.

☆ Once you’re ready for the ritual, follow the steps below:

• Begin the ritual during haunting hours.

• Have all thirteen Book of Life inside your sim’s inventory.

• Stand next to a long table.

• Buy a long table if you don’t have one.

• Begin summoning.

• After all thirteenth souls are on the lot, ready your camera and take a screenshot of all 13 ghosts in one picture.

- You have until they return to the other realm.

• After taking the screenshot, the ritual is finally complete.

- You must score yourself based on the quality of plants you have, relationships you keep, traits you have purchased and LTW you have completed.

Scoring for Thirteen Ghosts

Scoring:

☆ Your prowess as a deity will be judged by how your sim fared with the ritual of the thirteen. Below are the scores and the ranking rewards of your sim.

☆ If your sim began as an elder, you’re awarded 200 points immediately as a bonus.

☆ Flower Offering Score:

• +10 for Perfect Quality

• +9 for Great Quality

• +8 for Good Quality

• +7 for Very Nice Quality

• +6 for Nice Quality

• +5 for Normal Quality

• -5 for Bad Quality

• -10 for Foul Quality

• -15 for each plant that you replace or dispose.

☆ Relationship Score:

• +10 for each Good Friend or Lover.

• +8 for each Friend or Crush

• -2 for each captured sim that decays to Acquaintance.

☆ Trait Score:

• +50 for Charismatic Trait

• +50 for Perceptive Trait

• +40 for Bookworm Trait

• +25 for Flirty Trait

• +25 for Great Kisser Trait

• +10 for other Traits

(Excluding "Penalty" Traits)

• -100 for Commitment Issues Trait

• -75 for Diva Trait.

• -75 for Kleptomaniac Trait.

• -60 for Couch Potato Trait.

• -50 for Hot-Headed Trait.

• -50 for Mean-Spirited Trait.

• -40 for Snob Trait.

• -40 for Genius Trait.

• -30 for Athetic Trait.

• -30 for Hopeless Romantic Trait.

• -25 for Virtuoso Trait.

• -10 for Unflirty Trait.

☆ Lifetime Reward Score:

• +40 for Observant

• +30 for Stone-Hearted

• +20 for Quick Learner

• +20 for Young Again

• +10 for every other Lifetime Reward

☆ Lifetime Wish Score:

• +100 for Completing Perfect Mind, Perfect Body.

• +50 for Completing Illustrious Author.

• +50 for completing Professional Author.

• +40 for Completing Renaissance Sim.

• +40 for Completing Physical Perfection.

• +30 for Completing Master of the Arts.

☆ Essence Score:

• +20 for Soul

• +20 for Heart

• +20 for Body

• +20 for Mind

+10 extra for mastering all essences

☆ Penalties:

• -5 for each time you peed on yourself. Gross.

• -10 for moving in a custom-made or player-made sim into a lot

• -10 each time you age any sim by cake.

• -20 each non-fiction book failed to write on your victims.

• -25 for each captured sim you murder by trapping them within walls.

• -75 for moving any sim to your household

• -75 for keeping a baby or child in your household for more than 24 hours

• -100 for aging from young adult to adult

• -100 for aging from adult to elder

• -250 for dying

• -13,000 for using cheats

☆ Allowed cheats:

• freerealestate for homeless/out-of-world sims.

All Lifetime Rewards are allowed...

Extra points for:

• Observant

• Quick Learner

• Stone-Hearted

• Young Again

☆ Ranking:

• 500+: You are worthy of godhood. Claim your prize by ascending to the heavens! You can use any cheats and settings from this point on. You can also reign terror or dominance to the neighborhood you are in.

• 499-400: Not perfect, but still a worthy struggle. Immortality will be bestowed to you. You cannot use any cheats, but you can stop aging by changing the settings.

• 399-300: No immortality will be gifted to you, but a trove of wealth is guaranteed. Shame that your wealth cannot come with you in the netherrealm. You are allowed to use a money cheat with any amount. That’s it.

• 299-200: For your efforts (if you can call it that) you are gifted a classic deluxe custom designer luxury prestige high-quality premium select gourmet pocket pencil sharpener, courtesy of the god of comedy himself, George Carlin.

• 199-100: Congratulations, you are still dying from mortality!

• 99-0 & below: Grim is ashamed to have employed you, because your intention was to capture souls and use them for your own benefit, not only will you be wasting away from your mortality, but in the next life, you are damned to be reincarnated as a garden gnome.

Happy hunting!!

#the sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 #sims 3 13 souls challenge #4to3 conversion #challenges #ts3 edit #ts3 story #sims 3 to sims 4 conversion #13 souls challenge #the sims 3 gameplay

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yourfaceislikeabluemoon · 5 years

Text

“Do You Like Sales?”

Words: 1612

Warning: Uhh mild language and very mildly suggestive themes. Not much!

A/N: This is probably super cringy and lame but that’s my sense of humor for ya lmao I hope someone at least gets a small chuckle out of it! In any case, MJ is the prettiest. Sorry, I don’t make the rules. He’s just beautiful, I don’t know what to tell you. Anywho, hope it’s not too awful!

~~~~~

Is this guy really trying to pick me up right now? And in the paper products aisle of the grocery store of all places? So this is what my life has come to...

~~~~~

You wrestled with the large package of paper towels, trying to lug it into your shopping cart without dropping your phone or looking too uncoordinated. Managing to wedge it in on top of the other groceries, you swiped the item off the list on your phone and headed towards the napkins when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. Dreading the thought that this person had probably seen you struggling with your shopping and was about to pity you by asking if you needed help, you put on your best fake smile and turned around. You were met face-to-face with a good looking man, on the shorter side if you were being honest, with a goofy grin curving his plump lips and an ornery twinkle lighting up his smiling eyes.

“Excuse me, I just noticed you noticing me and I just wanted to give you notice that I noticed you too.” His grin widened as he rocked back and forth on his feet in anticipation of your response, rather child-like but cute nonetheless.

You thought back over the time you'd spent in the store so far, trying to recall whether or not you had unintentionally stared at the man at some point due to your mind wandering off while you gazed off into space or something. Deciding that you hadn't even laid eyes on him before he spoke to you, you figured he was just trying to talk you up to get you to go out with him. He seemed like he could endure a little teasing so you took the opportunity, chuckling softly, "Wanna know something I noticed? A large amount of nonsense comes out of a very small man. It's quite impressive actually."

Almost taken aback by your response, he stuttered out his own reply, "That...I...well...I get told that a lot actually."

"Do you?" You taunted playfully, still keeping your guard up slightly, "Do you also chat up people in grocery stores 'a lot'? Or was that just a spur of the moment idea?"

Catching on to your teasing, the man quickly regained his composure. "I wouldn't say 'a lot' but I also wouldn't say I'm terrible at it when someone does happen to catch my eye."

"Alright,” you paused, an idea quickly popping into your head. “Do your worst," you challenged him. "Throw out all the awful pick up lines you can think of and we'll see what my verdict is when your performance is finished."

His grin turned sly and he nodded curtly. “Hmm, let's see. Roses are red, violets are blue, how would you like it if I came home with you?”

Letting out a sigh of disappointment, you continued to bait him, "That was awfully cheesy. I don't know if I can say 'yes' to that or not. I'll have to think about it."

Seemingly lost in thought for a few seconds, his expression suddenly changed from wounded pride to eager excitement. “OK, we're in a store so...sales. Do you like sales? Because if you're looking for a good one, clothing is 100% off at my place.”

"Oh. My god." You stood in shock for a moment before bursting out laughing, unable to hold back considering he was somehow appealing to your sense of humor quite well, "I don't know whether I should be incredibly impressed or thoroughly terrified."

He rubbed at the back of his neck, somewhat afraid that he had crossed a line, but your visible amusement urged him on. “If I were to ask you out on a date right now, you know, just for shits and giggles, would your answer be the same as the answer to this question?”

You stared at him quizzically, raising an eyebrow at his baffling question. "Do you even understand what you just said? Because I have a feeling you might not."

"That didn't answer my question," he prodded as he crossed his arms over his chest.

You eyed him suspiciously, "Well, considering we both probably don't really know what you just said, my answer is I'm not answering. Next pick up line."

Chuckling at his disappointed pout, you shifted your weight to your other foot as he came up with his next attack. "Ok so you seem pretty busy today, but can you add me to your to-do list?”

You broke eye contact to stare at the ground in disbelief, "Wow, you actually went there." Pausing for effect, and because it was getting kind of entertaining watching him squirm and all, you nodded slowly and looked back at him, tilting your head slightly. "Well, what else you got?"

He scratched his head, wanting for more ideas. Holding up a finger, he gestured towards you and winked, “I thought I was in a grocery store but I must be in a museum, because you truly are a work of art.”

You rolled your eyes and giggled, "Scraping at the bottom, are we now? C'mon, you're losing steam!"

“Do you believe in love at first sight," he smirked. "Or should I walk past again?”

Thinking for a few seconds, you gave in, "I don't know, we'll have to try it again. Why don't you come down this aisle again?" The man hesitated before heading off and returning a moment later. You laughed softly under your breath, continuing your relentless teasing, "Hmm… I don't think it worked very well."

"Oooh, ouch!"

"Hey, don't get so butthurt, I didn't say it wasn't 'like' at first sight!" You covered your mouth when you realized that you had basically just given yourself away. You were actually enjoying this, and him for that matter, and now he knew and he was probably going to use it against you in some way.

Just as you expected, his expression morphed into an incredibly smug one and you were surprised that one person could be this level of ornery. “I mean I would flirt with you," he chuckled coolly before saying something that couldn't be further from 'cool', "but I’d rather seduce you with my awkwardness.”

You smiled genuinely, "If I'm being completely honest, your awkwardness is much more charming than your attempt at flirting anyway."

"Good to know," he rubbed at his chin, losing himself in thought yet again. “How about this, I'll cook you dinner, if you cook me breakfast. What do you say?"

"If I say 'yes'," you squinted at him suspiciously. "You're buying the ingredients you're cooking."

The man raised his eyebrows and stepped back a little, "Oh, is that a 'yes' I hear?"

You thought to yourself for a moment. "It wasn't a flat out 'no' but," you paused, seriously considering the fact that you were actually succumbing to this guy's ridiculous attempt at flirting. So close to giving in completely, you broke eye contact and trained your gaze over some random product on the shelf across from you. "I didn't say breakfast would be edible," you mumbled under your breath.

He quickly took the opportunity to take a jab at your sudden weakness, “Speaking of breakfast, I’ll give up my morning cereal to spoon you instead.”

You couldn't help the smile that was threatening to spread across your lips, "That's... that's not too bad actually." Nodding, you glanced back at him, suddenly feeling much more shy than before, and sighed, signifying your defeat. "You get one point for creativity and one point for a food reference." His smile widened and you chuckled, shaking your head, "Ok, fine, you got me. 10 awful pick up lines later, you got me. I'm thoroughly surprised you had that many up your sleeve."

The man chuckled along with you, "Honestly, I have no idea where I pulled most of those from."

"Out of your ass, I'm sure." You covered your mouth as he snorted with laughter. "How seductive," you stated dryly, secretly very amused as he kept becoming more and more adorable to you.

"I try," he joked before sticking his hand out to shake yours. "Myungjun. That's my name by the way. But you can call me MJ if you want."

"Myungjun," you repeated, "I like that." He grinned widely, prompting a blush to suddenly form on your cheeks as you introduced yourself.

The two of you continued on throughout the store, MJ helping you with the rest of your shopping, chatting up a storm all the while.

His phone buzzed in his back pocket. He took it out to glance at it, "I have to go." MJ held up a finger, "Wait." You stopped the cart and he dug around in it in search of the package of napkins. Ripping part of the plastic, he fished a napkin out and took a pen from his pocket, writing down his number on the paper. He handed it to you and you chuckled softly.

"You could've just put your number in my phone, you know," you held it up. "I do have it right here."

He waved you off, "Eh, I'm old fashioned."

You shook your head, "Yeah, ok."

"You better call me!" MJ winked as he started to walk off.

Glancing at the paper in your hand, you laughed again, "Maybe. You owe me a napkin."

You heard him snort again and he gave you a thumbs up before turning to jog out of the store. "I really just got picked up in the grocery store, didn't I?" Giggling to yourself, you headed towards the checkout line. "Myungjun." You repeated again quietly, "I like that."

#astro #astro fluff #astro mj fluff #mj #mj fluff #astro mj #bad pick up lines #kpop fluff

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randomnessunicorn-imagine · 5 years

Note

Hi there! I was hoping I could request a little writing/drabble from you where the female reader and Dukat are in a bit of a sudden argument over something and in the heat of everything, the reader accidentaly confesses that they have romantic feelings for him and...he's actually kind of surprised because he feels the same way about them. If you're not interested or you can't think of anything good, that's quite alright! Thank you~~

{ Uhm, interesting.

I took the liberty of using oneof the bad things happen prompts, because I really want to use them.

Then I have something specific inmind and, honestly, with Dukat I don’t imagine anything good, romantic orhappy, so this story doesn’t have an happy ending.

Here the reader is a Bajoranwoman named Laha Herjea, you can also see her as an OC. It takes place during the occupation of Bajor. Herethe station is still called Terok Nor.

I’m satisfied of this fanfictionand I took several hours to end it so I hope you guys will read and like it. Ihad fun writing it and I needed some angst. Yes, there is a lot of angst here! }

ASK FOR OTHER PROMPTS

Don’t forget to tell me your opinion about and leave a like or share if you liked it, it would make the writer very happy.

Prompt: Grief / Mourning

Challenge by @badthingshappenbingo

Words Count: 4171

Fandom: Star Trek DS9

Pairing: Dukat x Female! Bajoran Reader / Bajoran OC!

Triggers: Cardassian Oppressors, occupation of Bajor, angst, death, suicidal gesture, prisoner. But Dukat acts strangely nice.

– The beauty and the Reptile

~ PART 1 ;

A terrible fate fell on Bajor; afate of terror, destruction and desolation because Bajor wasn’t the planet of atime anymore but something else. It was infected by a virus, it was justdestroyed and usurped like the population who lived here. They had been treatedas slaves, strangers of their own land by the invaders of another planet, theirunexpected oppressors.

Cold-hearted aliens had stolentheir home, plundered their fields, killed their children and abducted theirwomen for their own pleasure, because they just felt superior. The Cardassian,their slavers, felt like real gods, they had even desecrated their temples anddishonoured their Prophets, but the Prophets were still there for Bajor,because nobody would have been able to stole their faith, it was immortal,immense and warm. This was the only thing the Bajoran people possessed, theirfaith in the Prophets.

The end of Bajor seemed near butthere were still people who fought for its liberation, who fought for what theybelieved, for their freedom and faith. Faith for prophets, for life and hope.Things the Bajoran cared a lot, things that had been stolen from them. Someday,they would have taken them back, no matter how hard and painful it could be,they would have won. Someday.

Laha Herjea was one of thosewomen who had been brought to Terok Nor, the space station of the Cardassians,to become the lady-in-waiting of one of them.

Actually, entire groups ofBajoran women had been stolen from their family and conducted there for thesame reason.

She didn’t even want to thinkabout her fate because it didn’t appear bright or worthy to be lived, it seemedterrifying and all the women around her were crying, were lost and scared andsome of them would have wanted to die rather than face this terrible destiny.

Laha didn’t live a long life, shewas only 19 years old when she was taken and brought to Terok Nor.

She lived with her father and herbrothers in a little town in the South of Bajor. Her mother Zaha died when shewas 15 years old because of an illness, while her father Janal was a farmer,just like her big brother Nika. Her other brother Paarya was a professor ofBajoran history and this was the subject she would have desired to study, thepath she would have liked to follow, because she estimated a lot her brotherand she wanted to spread her culture all over the universe. This was her dreambut it had been broken before it could even start.

“What do they want to do withus?” a woman said, looking around.

Laha didn’t know either of thesewomen but she could perceive their fear and preoccupation because she felt thesame feelings but she didn’t say a thing because the question of the woman wasabout to be answered.

A group of Cardassian soldierscame in, their looks were curious, they started scrutinizing the Bajoran womenas predators who were chasing after their prey.

Laha tried not to be scared bythese reptile men and she just looked at the void in front of her, but she wasable to hear the deep breaths of her companions, the way they trembled andsighed.

Some of the Cardassians laughedseeing the young women so terrified and vulnerable until a voice scolded them.

“Sirs, get a hold of yourself!”and then all the Cardassian soldiers became serious, standing at attention,“Can’t you see? These poor ladies are completely uncomfortable. They shouldfeel like home here.”

Another Cardassian man walkedinto the room, he was the possessor of the voice, that rough and severe voicewho was able to stop their laughing.

The man grinned, tall and fierce,admiring the line of women and studying them as if they were kinds of pieces ofart.

Laha supposed he was their bossbecause all the other Cardassians looked at this man with respect and fear,even she felt intimidated from this sinister character.

There was something in his eyesshe could not define, maybe it was lust, a malicious curiosity, or maybe it waspride, the kind of hubris of someone who felt better than anyone else, maybe hetruly felt superior, perhaps even more superior than the other Cardassians,this was the first impression she had of this man.

Soon, she even learnt his name,“I’m Gul Dukat, nice to meet you, my gentle ladies. I’m the one who controls this Station, you can consider me as your mentor, your new family because thisstation will be your new home.” He smiled, “Terok Nor is very big andlonely, and your job is to keep it warm and lively. Don’t see yourself as mereslaves, you’re more than that. You’re guests.”

Yes, guests that had beenkidnapped from their land and given to these malicious and merciless reptiles,she thought, it could not be defined as a gentle act of courtesy.

Dukat appeared veryself-confident, austere but kind in his strange ways but she didn’t trusthim.

Nobody trusted him.

Then he placed his glance on her,Laha didn’t look in the other direction, she just stared, serious and cold. Herlast desire was to lose her integrity and honour because of some Cardassian.

Dukat smiled, and then spoke,still looking in her eyes, “Let’s get to know each other better.”

He still didn’t take his eyes offof Laha, it seemed he was speaking with her and maybe he had already taken hisdecision and in that moment, when Dukat spoke to her, she understood she was inserious trouble.

“What’s your name?” he asked witha soft tone of voice.

“Laha Herjea.” She answered, coldbut polite.

“Oh, such an adorable name.You’re very young.” Then he got closer and raised her chin with his thinfingers, “And very beautiful.”

Dukat caressed her cheek, histouch was cold but soft, and then he moved a lock of her light brown hairbehind her ear.

His grin made her shivering as ifsuddenly the temperature got lower, it was not a pleasant feeling but shenodded, trying to stay calm and do not lose her mind.

Dukat still smiled, something ofhis smile frightened her but also made her wondering what was hidden behindthat mask of charm and self-confidence.

The meeting with the Cardassianslasted ten minutes and everyone left after they all chose their lady-in-waitingand ordered to their Bajoran counsellor –a traitor, she would say- to dress thewomen up in a more decent and delightful way, as if they were real dolls, just little toys that had to satisfyevery kind of fantasy of their oppressors.

Then Laha’s fate was clearer thanbefore, her preoccupation became reality and she just could not escape from thissituation. The only thing she could do was hoping, hoping the Prophets wouldhave given to her the strength not to fall apart.

~ PART 2 ;

Laha had been chosen as Dukat’smaid, he said it was the greatest honour and she was lucky. She had privilegesall the other Bajoran maids didn’t have. She wondered which privileges theywere.

It was her first day of work as maid, she was in his office, he was reading some documents without paying herany attention, and maybe he didn’t even know she was there and that she wouldlike to be somewhere else.

“Oh, sorry, my dear. I was sodistracted by these bureaucracy documents, it’s so boring but job must bedone.” He said, placing his papers on his table, hands joined and his usualconfident smile on his face. Laha found all of this disgusting but she didn’treply.

“I’m such a bad host, I haven’teven offered you a proper meal, you must be hungry.” Then he stood up, reachingthe replicators, “What would you like to eat? Some typical Bajoran plate?Unluckily, I’m not an expert but I could ask to our chef to prepare something specialand real. I don’t really appreciate these food simulacrums. It doesn’t do anyjustice to the original flavours of our dishes.”

Dukat kept speaking, he was agreat talker, and his tone was always so courteous and soft, Laha asked herselfif he was really the person he appeared to be. She didn’t know enough about himyet.

“So, dear Laha, what’s youranswer?” he asked again and then he looked at her, getting closer.

“Honestly, I’m not hungry, atall.” It was a lie but it wasn’t, too. Because her hunger went away the moment shecrossed the door, it vanished and she only was confused and mad. Even if on herface any emotion could be read.

“Are you sure?” he asked,suspicious.

Laha just nodded.

He didn’t appear angry and heseemed understanding, then he asked to his Bajoran Counsellor to accompany Lahato his quarters where she should have prepared herself and waited for him tohave dinner together since it was still morning and he had a lot of work to do.

Laha didn’t like this idea but,at least, he didn’t insist and left her alone.

Dukat’s quarters were very big,comfortable and elegant, they had the typical Cardassian décor but she didn’tcare a lot about it. She still found her out of place.

Then she admired the space out ofthe window and she observed Bajor, her home planet, how beautiful it was fromup there, she thought, and she could not reach it. She could not break thisglass and jump there. Warm tears crossed her cheeks as she contemplated herhome, she sighed, sad and alone. Then she fell on her knees and prayed theProphets to look after her family, to help her people and herself to believe.Help her to be strong and do not give up.

Then she put herself on the couchand she fell asleep.

Laha stood alone there, asleepand annihilated, for the rest of the day.

***

Dukat found Laha still sleeping,traces of tears still wet her face.

His expression was mortified, buthe didn’t wake her up but he just relaxed himself, reading a book and observinghis sleeping guest.

Laha was not tall but not evenshort, she was about 1.7 metres tall, but she looked so delicate, thin andinnocent there.

After some minutes, she moved andshe woke up.

“Oh, welcome back in reality,dear Laha.” He said, his tone seemed ironical, because this was not the realityshe wanted to live.

She had had a very beautifuldream, she dreamt of her family, she was gardening with her father, it was asunny day and Bajor was luxuriant, free from every oppressor but it was only adream.

Then Dukat stood up and seatednext to her, caressing her cheeks and realized, she had cried.

“You haven’t cried because youmissed me, haven’t you?” he asked, whispering and she blushed, she hatedherself for it.

Laha didn’t answer because it wasa stupid question, she had thousands of reasons to cry.

“You’re not so talkative, I’msorry, I’m just impatient to know you better.” He said, smiling, “But you don’thave to worry about your family.” And she opened her eyes wide.

“Oh, I’ve caught your attention.”He grinned, “By the way, they’re fine, I don’t want you to be sad, they’ve notbeen hurt.” His voice was gentle but Laha didn’t smile back.

How could she trust the man whohad abducted her and forced her to live in this station?

“Should I believe you?” sheasked, serious and wary.

“Oh, finally, you’re speaking.”He seemed satisfied, “I’m telling the truth and, since I don’t want you tomistrust me, I’ll permit you to speak to them and ask them in person how dothey feel.”

Dukat’s words surprised her, shewould have never expected such a proposal.

“Really? Can I see my father?”she asked.

“Yes, you can… But then you haveto stay and enjoy your permanence.”

It sounded more like a threatthan a gift, even if Laha didn’t have any choice, she had to stay here, she waslike a prisoner, so she just nodded because if she would have the chance to seeher father, how could she refuse.

“Now that you feel morereassured, can we have dinner?” he asked, smirking.

Laha forgot about her hunger, andshe felt a little better after his promise.

She guessed, he could havechanged his mind if she would have refused his invitation and it was only a dinner.

In fact, it was just a dinner andLaha was surprised how good he behaved. Dukat didn’t make her uncomfortable ortouch her, he just spoke a lot, he spoke so much but she didn’t care and shejust nodded, faking smiles and filled her stomach.

This man was kinder than shethought for being a Cardassian and maybe she had judged him too fast.

***

Several days passed and Laha wasable to speak with her father. He was fine and her brothers as well.

The Cardassians didn’t hurt themand this was a miracle because she heard so many bad stories about otherfamilies she knew. Maybe she was truly lucky. These were the privileges Dukat hadtalked about.

“Are you ok, dear?” her fatherasked.

“Yes, I’m fine, they didn’t hurtme, they give me food, a bed to sleep…” She smiled at her father.

“It would be better if you wouldbe here.” he said and then the signal started freaking out until the video communicatorblacked out.

“Dad! Dad, what happened?” shespoke to the black monitor and she sighed.

At least, she had the chance tosee him, for some minutes but she was glad he was fine. Now she had to keep herpromise too and just appreciate her forced permanence on Terok Nor.

***

“Have you seen your father?”Dukat asked.

“Yes, but not for a long time, thevideo blocked at a certain point.” She explicated.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’ll try againanother time.” he smiled and then he took her hands, delicately.

His skin was so cold, it wasstrange, she could not define this feeling.

Somehow, she found it pleasant,different from the first time she met him. She wasn’t afraid anymore.

Since now, he had only treatedher as a special friend, a real guest, with respect, kindness and a sort ofdevotion as if he was afraid of offending her.

Dukat always had that sinistersmile on his face, the one that hid something, but she learnt to ignore it andjust appreciate his company. Laha would lie to herself if she said she feltuncomfortable with him.

Then Dukat got closer and hetouched her cheek and kissed her lips gently, so delicate, chaste, she barelyperceived it, Laha didn’t move and the Bajoran let him to get further. His kissbecame more passionate until she was unable to resist and Laha just kissed himback, her senses were completely lost, and her mind possessed by her lustingemotions.

He embraced her in a strong hug,even if his skin was cold, she could perceive warmth and her entire body washeating up.

Everything happened so naturally,with no pressure, no excuse and she felt good, loved and satisfied.

She had to trust him, she had noreason to misbelieving and she was glad, if any prisoner could feel fine in itsprison but she didn’t feel as a prisoner anymore.

Laha had found her new home hereon Terok Nor, here in Dukat’s arms.

~ PART 3 ;

A month passed and Laha evenforgot about her previous issues.

She still missed her home and so Dukatpromised her they would have visited Bajor but this promise had not been kept yetbut she knew he had a lot of work to do.

Despite her beautiful days, thesituation on Bajor was still hard because people still died of hunger, childrenwere still killed, cities were destroyed and nothing really changed. Bajorbecame a hell and the Cardassians were the demons who ruled it.

Laha was used to spend her daysin Dukat’s quarters reading, writing or sewing clothes but some other times shewas even able to take walks through the promenade or talk with the Constable Odo.Laha didn’t go so far because she didn’t want to meet other Cardassians, shecould trust Odo but walking with all those Cardassians around made her veryuncomfortable.

During one of these walks, sherealized an awful truth, the truth she had ignored until now. The reality sheleft behind, the agony every Bajoran was living. She forgot everything and afeeling of doom and guilt took possession of his mind and heart. Because shefelt like a traitor, like an enemy.

She was living carefree, safe andsound in Dukat’s quarters, while her people were fighting and dying for theirplanet.

A peculiar fact had opened her eyes,because that day took place a riot in the middle of the promenade. Some Bajoranworkers revolted against the Cardassians, it seemed, it was an organizedassault. They were three members of the resistance of Bajor but they had beencaught and executed.

Laha was there, on the top of thepromenade and she observed the scene from above as the men screamed, fought andthen fell on the cold ground as dead weights but they were not dead yet. Thiswas not the end they deserved, it would have been too gentle for theCardassians.

Those men had been hanged infront of everyone, their last words had been prayers dedicated to the Prophets.

Laha saw, she saw all of it andshe was left speechless as the men died, but they didn’t cry, they were proudand even glad to die for their people. They didn’t lose this battle becausethey became martyrs.

Then she understood. Lahaunderstood it was unfair, she lost her mind, her dignity. She was just anobject, a little toy, she lived in a golden cage and those people, the peoplewho had killed her compatriots, had put her in that cage. She could not be gladof it anymore. Could not be blind anymore.

Laha started crying and then sherun away to her quarters, she could not stand it anymore.

She wanted to forget the terriblescene she had already seen and just disappear and sleep forever.

***

Dukat tried to comfort her but hefailed

“I didn’t want you to see that,it was awful…” he said, “I’m sorry, dear.” He spoke, kissing her wet cheeks, sogentle, so mortified.

“What did they do?” she asked,sighing.

“They have injured a Cardassian guard andtry to escape.” He said, his tone was neutral and it seemed, it was a logicalreason to execute someone.

“Why kill them?” she asked andher tone was harsher, because she could not still accept it. She could notunderstand it.

Dukat seemed confused and thatquestion was strange because it was the normal procedure. Killing Bajorans wasnormal for any Cardassian. Especially for him.

“Who gave the order? Who hasdecided the execution?” she asked and Dukat’s face freeze.

Laha understood, it was soobvious and she felt stupid, naïve and scared because she was facing the personwho had condemned those men. The person who had killed so many Bajorans and shehad even loved that person. She felt dirty, outraged and she stood up, shaking.

“No, it’s not me, they haveassaulted a group of Cardassians, they were dangerous. They were members of theresistance.” Dukat explained as if it was not a real problem.

“No, they were not dangerous.They were slaves, all we Bajorans are slaves for you. I’m just a slave foryou.” Laha burst into tears.

“No, dear, you’re not a slave.Believe me, you have nothing to do with that. You should have not stayed thereand seen that scene.” Dukat seemed anxious but he didn’t lose his temperament.

“No, you have lied to me untilnow. How could I be so blind? So stupid?” Laha didn’t want to listen to hislies any longer.

“No, Laha, it’s not truth, I’venever lied to you. I truly love you.” Dukat said and she could not understandif those words were lies or maybe he truly felt something for her.

Only echoes were crossing hermind, the voices of those Bajoran men who hung on the promenade, their prayersand the cries of all the Bajoran who were dying.

Then she just hid inside her roomand there she stayed for several days, before she took a decision.

If Terok Nor was her new home, itwould have been her grave, too.

***

Laha spent three days locked inher room and Dukat was very worried about her

He didn’t pressure her or forcedher to invite him to enter, he also called his Bajoran counsellor but it was useless.Laha didn’t want to talk with anybody.

The execution of those men hadshocked her so much that she became even unable to fall asleep without hearingtheir screams, the words of hatred the Cardassians told to them as they hang tothe rope. She could not save them, she could not do anything, she just watched themdying.

The next day, Laha decided to goout of her room, she took a sonic shower and then she kneeled and she prayedthe Prophets for her people, for Bajor and for herself. She asked to theProphets to forgive her because she had betrayed her compatriots and she feltas if she deluded the Prophets, too. She didn’t feel as a true Bajoran no more.

“Oh, dear, finally you came outof there. How are you?” Dukat asked, he seemed truly worried.

For once, his voice appearedsincere and even his grin was not sinister or lascivious. He didn’t even smile.

“I’m fine.” She said, withoutlooking at him, she just observed the space in front of the window.

“What are you doing?” he asked,he was not used to see her like that.

“I’m talking with the Prophets.”Laha said.

Since she knew Dukat, she hadstopped praying so often and she hadn’t realized it at first. Staying in thisplace made her forget about her true values. What she was before had stopped existingthe moment she fell in love with him. It was true, an awful truth.

Dukat didn’t answer and he lether pray, totally unaware of the world she had inside, of the thoughts she washaving that moment.

Laha understood. The moment hadcome.

***

Laha stood up, leaving herquarters and then she kept walking through the promanade.

She stood there, in the sameplace where those men died, where their bodies were hanging and she still feltsad for them but nothing else. She just felt anything at all.

The young Bajoran placed herhands on the handrail and she climbed it, it was a sort of ledge, she couldobserve the Cardassian guards who walked under her.

She stood up on the handrail andshe closed her eyes.

No sounds could be heard, no morevoices of desperation or cries, but only the warm embrace of the Prophets, ifthey would have ever forgiven her, was waiting for her on the other side.

Then she jumped, her body aslight as a feather but her mind so heavy, full of thoughts and worries.

Everything just disappeared.

May the Prophets forgive hersins.

***

Everything happened so fast,nobody realized it at first.

Some Cardassian guards hadpointed to her and other Bajorans that were there started screaming.

Surprisingly, the most shocked onewas Dukat, he was not there when it happened and he just saw the corpse of thewoman he loved in the sickbay, lifeless, cold and broken.

He should have known, maybe he hadsuspected it but he just ignored the signals because he was still too selfishto care about somebody else.

That same day, Dukat made Lahacorpse transported to her home on Bajor, giving Laha’s body to her father.

That was the place where sheshould have been, where she should have returned.

Dukat hoped he would haveaccompanied her there, and maybe even the occupation would have stopped and anew era would have come but reality was different from his dreams.

He was not welcome in in thathouse, nowhere on Bajor, but he felt glad he had been able to love someone likeher. Maybe she saw something good in him, not everyone was able of this, butnow everything was over and he could only mourn the death of a person he trulyloved. Because it was not a lie, not an illusion or a Cardassian trick. It waslove and it was dead, it was resting with her, in her grave.

It was more than that.

It was the love of a marthyr.

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nomimits7 · 5 years

Text

Mission Bangtan | 1

Title: MISSION BANGTAN pt1

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Ratings: M {angst and fluff}

Warnings: Language. Future violence. Talk of abuse.

Summary: As a professional eliminator you are ordered to get rid of Bangtan. A group of trained fighters hiding behind the mask of BTS. Your mission is successful until you get to know them. Will Y/N be able to complete the mission, or will she end up protecting her target from the real danger.

Autor’s notes: This is my first attempt at a fanfic. I don’t know if there is going to be any smut involved. Feel free to send in suggestions. I’ll try and update as soon as possible, but I am a student and my time is limited. Enjoy.( Also this one is edited. thank you @feed-my-geek-soul I love you!. Also the header image will change as soon as I get a more... mission like one! Hope you enjoy)

Finally. Finally, you’ll get to prove that you indeed are the best. Finally, you can rid this world of evil. Finally, you’ll get to give this evil a name.

Since you were brought to this academy you where taught to hate ‘Them’, even though you never truly understood who ‘They’ really were. You didn’t really have solid reason to hate them, but you did. You were a trained professional. An eliminator at the top of your class. Best actress, best fighter, best killing instinct, best strategist and above all, best at controlling your emotions.

“Y/N!” Your commander called. “It’s time. Do NOT disappoint…”

“Yes sir” you responded

Your commander was a heartless bastard. He made sure you knew exactly how fortunate you are. Your parents were two of his targets. One mission that ended with two dead and one orphaned child. He made you into the perfect killing machine. You grew up believing he saved you.

But, you hated him. Not only had he taken away you parents, but your innocence as well. You where sixteen years old when he made you hate him, when he broke you… forever. He was the devil himself.

“Your mission. You will infiltrate Bangtan. Earn their trust, catch them off guard. You need to eliminate all seven of them. You will need to eliminate them in the most iconic way imaginable. You must make a spectacle of them, you will send a clear message. You will destroy everything they stand for”

Seven….

“Here are their files. It is not much but it is enough to get you acquainted with your targets. I want a full mission run-through in the morning”

“Yes sir” you said, keeping a straight face “Good, you are dismissed”

Seven…

Seven is a bit more than you bargained for… Their files aren’t really of help either. Your brain is tired of trying to make this plan perfect, fool-ptoof even. If you can execute this then he’ll be satisfied. Perhaps you’ll even get to take down eight men, instead of just the seven.

The sound of midnight arriving pulled you from your daydream. “Right, let’s look at these files again, maybe I missed something.” You groaned.

Kim Namjoon

Age: 24

Skills: Clumsiness but extremely clever. He specializes in Tactics and planning.

Kim Namjoon better know as RM or Joon is the leader of Bangtan. His very sharp and takes care of each member. He would do anything to protect his members. He loves nature and it was his idea that Bangtan hide behind the faces of BTS. He’s one of the rappers and takes pride in their followers.

Kim Seokjin

Age: 26

Skills: Dad Jokes. He’s a very good cook. He specializes in close combat and can be dangerous with knifes. He also has great knowledge of poisons.

Kim Seokjin better known as Jin is the oldest member of Bangtan. He’s an expert in the art of knives. He too would do anything to protect his members. His cooking skills comes in handy when he need to take out a target silently. He’s known as Mr Worldwide handsome and takes pride in his title. He takes special care of the Three Maknaes of the group. He’s one of the vocalists.

Jung Hoseok

Age: 24

Skills: Can make anybody smile. Extremely good at dancing. Specializes in Dance fighting. Known as the Shadow of the group. His personality is the best cover for his skills.

Jung Hoseok better known as Hobi is the sunshine of the group. He’s always smiling and trying to keep all the members spirits up. Its suspected that he might be the sun in the group. He’s loud and very passionate in his position as the main dancer and Rapper in the group. This makes him the perfect cover man.

Min Yoongi

Age: 25

Skills: Being still. He’s the opposite of Hobi. Specializes in the element of surprise. Not much is known of him.

Min Yoongi better Know as Yoongi or Suga is the quiet one of the group. He’s a rational thinker and can be dangerous. He’s extremely good at being unseen. He’s an observer. He hides behind a straight face, but isn’t that cold hearted. He’s also one of the Rappers in the group.

Kim Taehyung

Age: 23

Skills: Unpredictable and bizarre are second nature to him. He specializes in close combat and thinking outside of the box.

Kim Taehyung better Known as Tae or V is the unclassifiable one of the group. He forms part of the Maknae line. Even his members can’t predict his actions. He’s what you can call a switch of sorts. He can jump from personalities. Suspected that he’s an actor of sorts. He’s one of the Vocalists

Park Jimin

Age: 23

Skills: Soft and kind. He’s one of the most flexible. He specializes in close combat and squeezing into impossible places.

Park Jimin better known as Jimin is the wannabe Maknae of the group. He forms part of the Maknae line. He acts as if he is the youngest. He’s the closes to Yoongi and can be just as quiet. His softness is suspected to be a cover of some sorts. He occasionally erupts and can be scary. He’s one of the vocalists

Jeon Jungkook

Age: 21

Skills: Muscle mania. Inexperienced. His specialities are his strength and stamina, and his computer skills are top level.

Jeon Jungkook better known as Jungkook is the Maknae of the group. Even though he is the most inexperienced he is the strongest member and has the most control. He’s associated with a bunny. He looks innocent, but in reality is deadly. He loves a challenge and he rarely loses. He is the main Vocalist of the group.

After re-reading the file an additional four times you give up. How in the seven worlds are you supposed to infiltrate a group like this? Wait, why do you need to get rid of them? Nothing in their files explains the evilness they possess. Nobody can be that good at hiding evilness, your commander hasn’t even mastered that art yet. Or maybe that’s exactly what they want you to believe… you’ll have to get creative.

“So… you’re going to go to a fan sign, and become friends with them? How exactly are you going to eliminate them?” you commander asked clearly intrigued.

“Well… there wasn’t much to go on in their files. I’ll have to look for a weakness first before I can be clear on the exact execution of the mission. But… the calculated time for this mission is a bit… concerning sir.”

“Concerning?”

“Yes sir. This is going to take time. They won’t trust me from the start I’m first going have to win their trust. Considering everything the files show, my acting’s going have to be on point.”

“Fine, there’ll be no limit, but I expect progress.”

“Of course, sir”

You finally leave his office, heart racing you release a breath of relief.

“Right let’s begin shall we…”

The venue was filled to the brim. You knew they were well known but this is just ridiculous. Being raised in the academy you rarely ever heard of the outside world. Waiting in line with you newly bought album… the first item you have ever bought for yourself… you try to look for any signs of the seven targets. They haven’t arrived yet and you start to doubt that they ever will. One scream and the whole room erupts into cheers. You try to see them but there are to many people in front of you.

“Stupid. Should have arrived earlier.”

A good two hours later you finally get to see them… Your heart stops. There in front of you seven of the most portrait perfect humans are seated. There were no pictures in the files, so you don’t know who is who, but one thing you do know… This mission isn’t going to be easy…

Taking the first seat you knew you were doomed. The first member was beautiful. His skin was flawless. His brown hair fell over his dark dark dark eyes. His lips formed into a gummy smile as he looked at you. You didn’t know who he was or what to say. Shyly you pushed your Album forward without saying a single word. His curious eyes searched yours. It was at this point you realized your guard was down. Like a compressed spring they popped up. Your eyes became emotionless, it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Usually our fans are very happy to see us. You aren’t a fan are you?”

At this you looked up. His eyes were searching…

“Not really. This is all new to me.” It wasn’t a lie really. This was your first time experiencing this. Smiling he gave back your album and reached out for your hand, Taking it in his.

“I’m Suga, or Yoongi… welcome to Army”

Welcome? Did you just join a cult? You thanked him and moved on to your next target. This one was younger, you could tell by his soft smile. He almost looked angelic. Again, flawless skin, light brown hair painting his perfect features. Again, you said nothing as you pushed your album towards him. Smiling he gladly took it and signed it.

“So… You’re new? Welcome, I hope you find our music enjoyable.”

“thank you” you responded emotionless

“I’m Jimin. You are?” For what felt like years you decided to give them your real name. It’s not Like they’re going to be alive to do something about it.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N, that’s a nice name” You thanked him and moved to the next member.

This guy was beyond handsome. His blond hair and dark eyes were a deadly combination. Taking your album, you couldn’t stop staring.

“Y/N…right? Hi I’m Jin.”

“Hi…Nice to meet you” This guy was a master in poisoning??? With each member you had met thus far you couldn’t connect their files with them. How could these boys be that dangerous or well trained? Thanking him you moved on to the next member. This member had the most beautiful dimples. His light brown hair made him look even more like a Greek god or something.

Now you knew you were screwed. No way in hell can you loose focus in this mission.

“Hello Y/N, I’m Namjoon. How do you find Bangtan so far?”

“You all seem really nice. I might like your music, but we’ll have to wait and see”

“You haven’t heard our music and you’re at a fan sign?”

“Yeah, it’s weird I know but that’s why I bought the album.”

You said goodbye and moved on to the next member. Namjoon grabbed your hand, snapping your head around you nearly went full commando but as you turned you saw tickets grasped loosely in his other hand.

“Come to our show. You might like it. You’re the first person I have ever came across that’s so… straight forward.”

Thanking him you moved on to the next member. By first glance you could tell he was energetic. His smiling face greeted you. You could tell he was the light of the group and you wondered which of the remaining three he was.

“Hi, could you sign this please?” Taking your album, he made quick work of signing it.

“Hello Y/N, I’m your Hope, J-Hope” You could see he was the sunshine personality one. But Dance Fighting? No, you couldn’t place that as his skill. Not that he didn’t have the body for it, but he was so… Shiny.

“Where do you come from?”

Fuck… You knew you’d have to make up a story but for some or other reason you weren’t expecting a question like that. Clearly pausing too long he decided to break the silence.

“It’s okay you don’t have to answer. I was just curious.”

Relief flushed over you as you got up to move on to the next member. This member was young. Almost too young. His baby face smiling up at you as you take your seat. Maybe this was…

“Hi I’m Jungkook. You must be Y/N. I can see you’re a new Army. Welcome”

Yup it was clear as day that he was the youngest. His bunny-like features made it impossible for you to see this strength or to picture him being the strongest of the group. Like how?

“Hi, Yes I’m relatively new to this.”

“Well welcome Y/N. Enjoy your stay with Bangtan!”

Looking up to the last member your heart stopped again. This man seemed dangerous. You don’t know why but his light hair and dark deep eyes made you uneasy. Every sense in you body was on even higher alert as you approached him. Although you felt intimidated you couldn’t help but look. He was beautiful. This must be Taehyung. The unpredictable one. His eyes locked with yours and you knew he was going to be one of many challenges. They all are going to make this extremely difficult. You’ve been cautious around the other without feeling as if you might fail, but he made you realize how dangerous this mission really is.

“You really are a rare sight to see. Coming to a fan sign of idols you haven’t even heard sing. I praise you for that. Hi I’m Tae, but call me V. I do hope we’ll be seeing you again.”

Wow, unpredictable is an understatement. This guy was straight forward with every word yet confident.

“Nice to meet you V. I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N… Even your name is unique. I like you already.”

Saying goodbye and leaving you couldn’t help but wonder what he meant. It was probably nothing, just your imagination playing games with you. One thing you were certain of, your plans had officially changed.

You’re going to a BTS concert and you have work to do.

Part 2

#mission bangtan #Part 1 #edited #bts #ot7 x reader

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idolizerp · 5 years

Photo

LOADING INFORMATION ON INDIGO’S MAIN DANCE, LEAD VOCAL, RAP MOON JIHUN…

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 26 DEBUT AGE: 21 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 18 COMPANY: MSG ETC: this member is known for their involvement in musicals

IDOL IMAGE

The steadfast, reliable one.

That’s what he is, that’s what he needs to be, or so he’s told.

Not the one who ever truly stands out, only ever when he’s given the time to take center stage as a dancer, but a jack of all trades who blends smoothly into anything that’s thrown at him. Dancing is what he does best, and he clears the stage every time he’s on there, so much so that there’s articles written about how he comes alive, and there’s comment chains about his so-called duality, on stage vs off stage, the artist vs the person, as if they truly knew either at all.

Where his bandmates are electric and mysterious, where they’re magnetic and bring people in, his job is to keep them there, to be the anchor. He’s approachable, perhaps a little too much, and the company pushes his open and earnest relationship to fans, because they need it. The company tells him to be the best friend, the big brother, never the favorite but good enough to make people feel comfortable. The meek shall inherit the earth, as they say.

It’s a polished and just-flawed-enough version of who he’s always wanted to become, once, before the mirror cracked and the smoke vanished. Smile for the camera, be that boy, strong, unwavering, always there for others, sometimes not quite there himself.

He pursues musicals, gets the OK from the company after much insistence, after convincing them that it’ll allow him to show versatility, that that’s the thing they want for the group right now. Selfishly, he wants it for himself first, to show that he can take on that challenge and see it through. The company agrees, if only because they need it, a way to show and confirm, after re:group, that their idols can truly adapt and thrive no matter what’s thrown at them. It’s publicity, at least, but then it’s up to him to make it good.

There’s a sort of vindication in it, although he’s always been told to avoid being too prideful, but sometimes he can’t help it. No hurt in telling yourself you’re doing well, after all, that your best is enough for once.

IDOL HISTORY

corner of the sky.

“Special”.

“Gifted”.

“Prodigal”.

Words that mean too much, until they dont mean anything at all.

When Moon Jihun is seven years old, his parents sign him up for the school talent show, at his express request. He had seen this performance on TV, of an artist whose name he can’t remember and that his seven-year-old grasp on language would probably jumble anyway, but it shakes something up in him like nothing has before. It plants a seed in his young mind that’s only begging to grow, so he bats his lashes as his mother, and she writes his name down because of course, anything for her little prince. Before he knows it he gets a taste of it, the costumes and the light and the dramatics, but most importantly he hears his own voice, feels his body moving, and he loves how it makes him feel.

Passion feels like all he needs and he cultivates it, for all the years afterward, and it’s only the beginning of the road. It’s also the foundation of a home, for Jihun, and back then it’s whole and beautiful and precious, not in ruins quite yet. He’s his parents’ and grandparents’ treasure, the pride of Seogwipo, center stage in flashing light. The family’s crown jewel who can do nothing wrong in their eyes.

Jihun, you’re so much more advanced than all the other kids!

You know, our Jihun practices a lot at home.

I think it shows, he’s so talented!

He works hard at performing because he loves it, but he can’t deny that being told he’s good, being told he’s special, is more fuel to his fire. It must mean he’s doing something right, and it must be true, they have no reason to lie to him after all, they’re only here to encourage and lift him up. Honesty is the best policy, always, that’s what he believes and what he holds on to. So whenever his father grips him by the shoulders and tells him he’s special, he believes it. Whenever his grandmother hangs another picture on the wall, he feels his heart filling with pride. Every time he sees them sitting in a row, all eyes on him, it’s only more motivation to chase this dream.

He’s special, after all.

Fresh out of middle school, he moves to the big city, Seoul, center of the known universe. And, or so he thinks, fulfills his destiny.

The performing arts school building towers over him the first day, so many promises rising up to the sky, all the hope he’d shouldered from all his years practicing finally about to fully realize themselves into something concrete, something for the future.

The future, as it turns out, is a paper plane that burns at the slightest change of direction.

Outside of his bubble, away from his family, Jihun crashes in a way he’s never experienced before. Where’s that special kid, where’s the prodigal son, in the middle of all the other students who are stronger and better in every way? Where’s the gift gone, when he’s struggling to catch up, much less keep up, when he loses his breath and comes tumbling to the floor, lungs on fire, sweat trickling down his back, the unpleasant physical manifestation of failure.

That’s a new word, failure. It stains his tongue like the bitter taste of tobacco, the cigarettes he starts sneaking in between classes, hunched over, curled up on himself against the back wall of the building, shame and disgust and failure, failure, failure.

His parents’ praise echoes in his mind and he tries to crumple it up and throw it away, because it’s not enough. It was never enough and he can’t do anything with it now, not when he feels himself falling behind, slipping away, his dreams so far out of reach he should probably just let them go.

But letting go is not an option, of course. The only thing stronger than his shame is his stubbornness. If he’s just average, the only way is up. If he only has his determination to show for himself, then at least he’s got something. Everyone has to start somewhere, right?

Know where you stand. Stand your ground. Throw yourself into practice.

He takes everything in stride. Classes, projects, late night training, throw five or six desperate kids in a room and call it a learning experience. Sneak into the school’s studio when no one is looking, stumble upon a classmate, keep each other’s secrets and keep each other afloat. There’s more vindication in knowing he’s trying than in being told he doesn’t have to. Maybe it’s too much sometimes, but there’s this growing, urgent need in Jihun’s gut to just prove that he can, so he keeps going, cultivates his work ethic far away from false promises and little white lies.

waving through a window.

He’s eighteen, waiting at the bus stop when it happens, a man in a cheap suit handing him a business card, the three letters MSG feeling like a punch in the throat. He knows them, of course, anyone with an interest in the industry does. The fine print in is the man’s words, though.

“You’ve got a face that’ll sell.”

It’s a start, maybe. It’s ok if he can capitalize off of that, show what he truly wants to. It’s a chance he can’t afford to pass up. Even if he doesn’t like to think of it that way, everything is a means to an end.

Trainee life is, for all he’s anticipated, just a leveled-up version of school. He gets the call back a week after his audition. The almost soulless voice on the other hand claims they saw something in him, and it’s been a while since he’s heard those words so Jihun takes them with caution, files them in a corner of his mind that’s still marked with a red flag.

He still shows up on the company’s doorstep with his suitcase and his aching heart.

The cycle starts again. Push yourself to the limit, say yes, thank you, I’ll do my best, I’ll work harder, and then do just that. It’s all you’ve got a claim to, after all. In that room he’s just like he was before, keeps himself afloat among the others, and eventually, he finds his footing. He can breathe a little easier, sleep a little sounder, even if he doesn’t get to do either of those things much. Little by little, finally, he makes himself known. Remarkable if only for how diligent he is, people also commend his hunger to prove himself. The downside, that he tries not to let become his downfall, is his tendency to bite off more than he can chew, leaving projects unfinished or unpolished just because he wants to move on to the next one, to do everything at once, to show his worth. Run through a dance cover, move on to some barely formed choreography, or two, sometimes both at the same time because he needs to keep his mind occupied and alert.

His body feels like it’s being taken apart every day, from the hazy dance practices that blend into each other, always longer and more grueling and the next, but he loves it, this feeling, when the world spins and he’s taken along in the movement. It’s all he ever wants to do. It’s all he feels that he knows.

“You just don’t stand out.”

It’s that sentence, that he seems to hear over and over, that makes his blood boil and sets his heart on fire. “If they’re not looking my way, I’ll make them.”

And he does.

If he’s always heard that debuting is the hardest part, he’d wager that following up is harder. It doesn’t feel difficult or painful when he stands on that stage for the first time, finally, a day that he’d begun to think would never come. It feels freeing. It feels like the sky has opened up and all the atmospheric pressure has been lifted, and rain is clearing yesterday’s pain to make way for tomorrow’s joy.

Tomorrow’s joy, he learns the hard way, only comes to the fortunate. They’re not among them. Months pass and comebacks happen and everything remains the same, leaving sweat stains and tear tracks everywhere they go, trying to make sense of a situation that never does. It’s not hard work that makes dreams come true, it’s luck, pure dumb luck, and theirs ran out so quickly that Jihun keeps wondering if there’s something they’re doing wrong.

Still they keep on going, stuck somewhere between determination and desperation, a single red thread that threatens to snap at any moment. It’s burned into Jihun’s skin, this lifeline, the promise of a better tomorrow that never seems to come; low sales, low views, low interest, low morale, but still this hunger, unsatisfied yet, and maybe it never will be.

soul of a man.

Re:group is grueling, worse than he’d imagined, worse than he’s been through.

Against the odds, he hears those words again. One by one as the guys walk in, this one is special, this one is gifted, this one is prodigal, and yet they’re all here, but to him they don’t seem to realize the reason why.

He gets the devil’s part, grits his teeth when he watches the episodes and sees what they’ve made of him, but he makes do with it. After all, this world will only ever let you be who they’ve already decided you are, and in a situation like this one, it’s pointless to fight against it. If you know who you are then it’s enough, and Jihun does, finally. So he works, and he works, because that’s all he knows, and he refuses to let anyone hold that against him at least. If the producers decide he’s the bad guy, too relentless and demanding and straightforward, then so be it. Through it all, he fights like a lion who refuses to die in the cage.

Too often his outspokenness is mistaken for humor, and the things he says that pertain to the hardships of the industry are brushed to the side or not taken seriously. The industry is cruel, this much he knows, but even in the role he’s been given, even as the MCs and the managers try to silence him, he knows he can hold on to what he believes. Sure he has to compromise, and it eats him alive on most days, how often he’s asked or downright forced to set his conscience aside. The fans notice, a little, but it’s only small things they can get attached to. For now it’s probably enough, not that he’d be allowed anything more.

At the conclusion of it all, under stage lights and scrutiny, as he’s been doing all his life, he waits for his name to be called. But the call never comes. It’s okay. It’s enough. he did his best, and they’ll never take that away from him.

The gate opens to a brave new world instead.

one day more.

Fortune is a funny thing, really.

One day it seems like it’s all but abandoned them, thrown them to the side of the road to fend for themselves and eventually be picked on by vultures, a disgraceful end for a disgraceful life.

The next day, like some trickster god was in a benevolent mood and spun the wheel again, they wake up in a world where people have finally taken notice, where they’re not an afterthought anymore.

The first group schedule after the show, Jihun can barely see through the crowd and the flashing lights. It’s a new feeling and he thinks he could get used to it, even if the little voice in the back of his head warns him that this too shall pass if they’re not careful.

Take the second chance and run with it, because they don’t come easy, because it could be the last. Take the love, the admiration, the trophies, cherish them, because they could slip away at any moment.. Put in your demands now, because they can’t refuse you anything anymore. Now Jihun understands what it’s like to be the breadwinner, the move maker, the one that the light is finally shining on.

In the wake of their newfound success, Jihun gets cast in his first real musical, so far from the cardboard and the watercolor of the school talent show. It’s a never-ending thrill ride, a rush of adrenaline like he’s never known before, one that he hopes he never gets used to. He’s clawed his way up here and he’ll fight to stay, even when the industry is as unforgiving as its ever been.

When the cameras are off, as always, his strong moral compass is both his lifeline and his downfall. Even when it starts working in his favor, he still disapproves of many aspects of the idol industry, silently protests against the personal restrictions, refuses to settle for “this is how it’s always been done.” His intentions to voice that dislike are often shut down by his company to maintain the image they gave him, one that is a little too off to who he truly is for him to stay quiet for long. Maybe one day the industry will change enough that it will never have to be this way again, for him or anyone who shares his way of thinking. For now, if he can keep his balance despite all of it, if he can stay true no matter what, then he’ll have already won.

It takes a lot to break a man’s spirit. Even more when he’s already been patched up, and is held together with renewed hope; and the knowledge that if he holds on to his unwavering belief in what’s right, and keeps on his path as he has, then he’ll find a way out into the light in the end.

#id.bio #id.msg #id.indigo #id.kim taeho

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og-lacksubstance-studios · 5 years

Text

Do You Remember - Part 7

Summary: Can you recall the first time you ever loved someone? Someone who made you challenge yourself and learn all the unexpected feelings? Sometimes you forget, but then the unexpected happens and you find yourself back to the beginning.

YEAR 2008 - 3.5 MONTHS TILL GRADUATION

Realizations hit Embry that night that if she wanted to keep Sage she had to stop living a lie with Greg, but then the next morning came rolling around and she choked. She didn’t do it but instead told Sage she had.

She knew it was wrong and she knew she was lying to everyone closest to her, but she just couldn’t shake the fear from her. So she hid her double life from everyone.

She would go to practice and then go about her day. She’d avoid Greg throughout school, but sneak away for makeout sessions with Sage in the darkroom. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was falling deeply for this girl and she could feel Sage’s emotions with every kiss she left behind. She never invited Sage back to her house again because she didn’t want her parents to figure out the truth. She would spend time with Greg, but every time he wanted to kiss her, she’d somehow avoid it by kissing him on the cheek or moving her own face for him to do the same. She didn’t want to kiss him—not anymore.

A party is being thrown to commemorate the end of the school year approaching and she was getting ready with Madison and Kennedy over at Kennedy’s house. She had to lie to her parents that she was just sleeping over at her place. It seemed like no matter what came out of her mouth these days were lies.

Embry got a text from Sage saying for her to have a good time, though she was sort of bummed that she wasn’t going to be there. Embry supposed though that if Sage wasn’t going to be there, at least both her and Greg wouldn’t be in the same vicinity, so that made things easier.

The three girls finish their hair, makeup, and looks off before getting into Kennedy’s car to end over to the party, feeling good and excited to let off steam.

When Embry gets there she is immediately met with blaring music and loud chatter around her. She wasn’t often seen at parties, but after the last few months of stress, she felt compelled to just enjoy herself for once.

She got herself a drink and brought it into the living room to lean against the wall closest to the stairs. She nursed it as she watched everyone somewhat grouped or coupled up, noticing Greg by his friends, ignoring her which she was okay with. She really didn’t want to see him and be his arm candy.

“You look bored.” She looks to her side and Sage comes up beside her with the charming smile she’s fallen deeply for. Her stomach does flips and she can’t help but gleefully stare at her.

“I thought you weren’t going to be here,” Embry replies and Sage shrugs slightly, staring out at the crowd.

“I heard a beautiful girl was going to be here and I thought I’d have to see her for myself,” Sage replies suavely but equally corny. Embry shakes her head, blushing slightly as Sage turns back to her.

“You’re so ridiculous,” Embry breaths out as Sage stands closer, but Embry shoves her in the arm playfully. Sage leans to the side laughing slightly, holding her hand to her chest.

“You wound me,” Sage jests. “Besides, you love me,” she adds with slight seriousness and Embry can’t help but stare at her with a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. She turns towards her, letting out a deep breath.

“Yeah—I think I do,” she says completely serious and Sage can’t help but let her eyes take in every piece of Embry in this vulnerable moment. Sage kind of had a feeling that Embry felt this way, but she didn’t know how deeply or to what extent, but seeing her like this affirms the truth.

Sage takes her hand and guides her up the stairs of the house towards the vacant bathroom. They both go in and shut the door, then Embry pins Sage to the door, claiming her lips with her own. Sage moans softly, wrapping her arms around her back pushing them away from the door to set Embry on the counter. Embry wraps her legs around Sage as Sage kisses down her neck, careful to never leave marks. Embry moans softly, tugging her closer to her, running her hands over her back under her shirt.

“Em are you—.” They pull away instantly as Embry fixes the strap of her dress to see Kennedy staring at them in shock. “What the hell is going on?” Kennedy yells at the two of them.

Embry gets off the counter. “I can explain,” she begins.

“Explain how you’re cheating on Greg? That you’re what? A lesbian now?” Kennedy rages, her words hitting Embry like knives.

“Her and Greg broke up,” Sage explains, crossing her arms. Kennedy’s head snaps up so quick like she was slapped.

“Actually, they didn’t.” Sage’s arms slowly drop as does her resolve. “We’ve all been texting wondering where she went, but instead she’s been sucking face with you,” she explains and Embry stands there like a stone while Sage eyes her with her own hurt radiating from her.

“Is it true? Are you and Greg still together?” Sage asks and Embry finally turns, tears streaming down her cheeks. She doesn’t respond with words but instead nods slowly.

Sage looks away, nodding slowly in understanding. Anger, sadness, hurt all mixed together courses through her.

“What’s going on?” The three girls look over to see Greg in the doorway, taking in the entire scene before him. “I heard something was going on upstairs and someone said you were caught with a girl,” he laughs as he stares in Embry’s direction. “I mean, that’s not true, is it? You’re not a dyke, are you?” He asks her.

“Watch your fucking mouth!” Sage yells at him.

“I’m talking to my girlfriend, alright!” Greg replies harshly, nostrils flaring. Sage glares at him, her jaw clenched. “Is it true?” He asks softer to Embry who has been silent overall.

“Yes,” she breathes out. “It’s all true.”

Greg eyes Sage and immediately steps around Kennedy, walking with purpose to Sage, laying his fist into her jaw. He grabs her neck. “I should kill you!” He yells, Embry immediately jumping into action to try and pry him off Sage.

“Greg, stop! Please stop! I love her, stop!” She yells, crying harshly. He releases his grasp, Embry immediately stepping between them, the smell of alcohol radiating off his breath. He turns to face her angrily.

“Well—isn’t that cute?” He spits to her. “You two deserve each other,” he adds before walking out of the bathroom. Kennedy stands there arms crossed, shaking her head at her. She looks disappointed, even slightly guilty that she made it such a big deal that Greg felt compelled to try and strangle Sage. She shuts the door slowly to give them space.

Sage sits against the nearby wall, coughing harshly as Embry rings a rag of cool water to clean up small bits of blood on her face.

Sage takes it from Embry, then stands up wobbling at first, prompting Embry to try and help her.

“I got it,” she says harsher than she intended, prompting to Embry jump back like she was burned by a hot stove. “In case you were wondering, we’re done,” Sage says angrily, walking towards the bathroom door and slamming it behind her, leaving Embry to sob in the bathroom alone.

PRESENT DAY

“Embry.” A hand waves in front of her face as she looks over at Sage who stares concerned in her direction. “Ah, she lives! I thought I lost you for a moment,” she says and Embry just looks down regrettably.

“I was just thinking about that night.” Embry didn’t have to specify which night she was talking about, Sage already knew and from the looks of it, Sage seemed taken aback by the omission. “I lost everything that night, my friends, my boyfriend, you,” she says looking up at Sage sadly.

“That was ten years ago.” Sage brushes off. “My eye and fat lip healed,” she jests, but Embry wasn’t laughing.

“My pride is still pretty shot, but nice to know you can laugh at it,” Embry responds defensively, getting up to walk past Sage who she hears a sigh and run after her almost immediately. Sage catches her wrist in her hand and Embry turns around to face her, tears welling up in her eyes. “Do you know how badly I wanted you to fight for me?” She pauses, not expecting Sage to answer. “I made a mistake and I’m sorry for that, but did you ever think you were equally responsible? You ask me to break up with him, but it was you who kissed me first in the locker room.”

“We both made mistakes, but I will never regret kissing you first,” Sage says quietly as if others were around and she wanted to keep things between them. “I loved you Em and if in some fucked up universe that makes me a shitty person for believing I could do better than Greg, then yeah, place all the blame on me, but I never promised something I couldn’t keep.”

“I didn’t have people keeping tabs on me like you did,” Sage reasons and Embry stares at her angrily.

“You told me you didn’t want to share me and you essentially gave me an ultimatum to either dump him or lose you, and I didn’t want to lose you, but I also thought keeping up a public relationship would keep things from escalating,” she explains.

“Then you should have told me that,” Sage says. “Instead, you made me believe you did end things and you avoided him till finally, it all blew up in your face,” she adds and Embry sighs in frustration, wanting to end this conversation.

“I’m not trying to hurt your feelings or place blame on you, but we were kids,” Sage says softly, shrugging her shoulders. “We were dumb and there are a ton of things I would’ve done differently, and one of them would have been to fight for you or fight along side you. I wish I would’ve been there when you told your parents you were going to art school instead of doing some business degree or whatever they wanted you to do. I wish I would have taken you to Prom because maybe I would have actually went. I was an asshole and I take full responsibility for that. I ignored every attempt you made to talk to me because of my own selfish pride,” Sage explains prompting Embry’s growing anger to dissipate. She looks up at her in awe that she said those things.

“I’m sorry,” Sage breaths out staring deeply in Embry’s eyes to show her sincerity.

“Did you mean what you said?” Embry asks after a few bits of silence fills the night air. Sage keeps her eyes trained on her, waiting for her to continue. “When you said you loved me back then? Did you mean that?”

Sage looks away, blushing slightly, breathing out a laugh, losing complete resolve. “Yes, yes I meant every word. I would have crossed oceans for you, I was in so deep,” she laughs and Embry can’t help to break out smiling too.

“Me too,” Embry finally says making Sage stop short and eye Embry in her typical Sage stare that made Embry weak in the knees.

In fact, I still do. But I’m not sure you’ll ever know it.

#do you remember #w/w fiction

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imagine-loki · 6 years

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The Witch's Familiar

TITLE: The Witch’s Familiar CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 24/? AUTHOR: nekoamamori ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine getting so attached to Lokitty early on that you insist on carrying him just about everywhere. RATING: T (so far) NOTES/WARNINGS: Also on AO3 Click here

“This is the family wing,” Loki explained as he led you down the hallway. Your hand was on his right arm. He was taking the position to the inside of the corridor, the more ‘vulnerable’ position as if there were an attack, or someone not paying attention to where they were walking, he would be between you and danger. Silly overprotective Lokitty… “Odin and Mother have suites and workrooms and such a floor up. Thor lives down the hall,” he gestured back the way you’d come. There were plenty of empty rooms, probably in expectation of a larger family.

Loki pointed out more landmarks of interest as he led you through the wide, airy, beautiful halls of the palace. You strolled leisurely, not in any apparent rush to reach your destination. For all the world, Loki acted a polite, maybe a little reserved, courtier.

“I still can’t believe you grew up here,” you commented at the literal palace you were walking through. You knew you didn’t belong here. You could make yourself comfortable in almost any facet of human/witch society back home, but this was completely different. Loki was just so comfortable and comforting. He didn’t seem…different, per se, this just wasn’t a side of your Lokitty you saw often on Earth.

He chuckled. “I did grow up a prince, darling,” he reminded you gently, kindly. He was amused by your awe at the palace, though had obviously been expecting it and was preening over showing off his culture and home to you. You couldn’t help wondering, though, why he was interested in you when he was a prince. A prince of an alien world no less. You were just a little witch from Midgard…

You also noticed the blatant stares of the palace stares, nobles, basically anyone and everyone you passed. They all stopped to stare at the pair of you. “Why are they staring?” you asked Loki softly enough that they couldn’t overhear. You couldn’t tell if it was because you were Midgardian, or if it was because of Sera.

“Because you are a beautiful lady,” he replied warmly, the words gliding off his silver tongue. You gave him a look. That wasn’t true. He gave you a warm smile. “They are unused to the sight of a gorgeous woman on my arm. My idiot brother on the other hand…” he grinned and you couldn’t help smiling. Thor liked women and probably would have sought your attention if you were even slightly more his type.

“Surely the sight couldn’t be that uncommon,” you teased, back to normal friendly territory. Light teasing was safe. Loki was over a thousand after all, there was no way that some lady hadn’t caught his attention in all of those years. You’d had your share of relationships over your 500 years, they hadn’t gone well, but that was a different problem.

He scoffed. “Most of the court ladies have feathers for brains and I’ve met rocks with more personality. Plus it is hard to remain interested in their flirtations when I can hear-” he tapped his forehead to indicate telepathically. You knew he didn’t pry with his telepathic abilities, but he could overhear things even when he wasn’t trying. “-that they are only interested because of my station, or believe me to be a poor substitute for my brother, or don’t understand and fear my magic,” he explained. “You, my darling, loved me when I was nothing more than a cat, a friend, a teammate, and finally your suitor. It is refreshing to be the pursuer instead of the pursued for once and even more refreshing that you have never once wanted me for my station, wanted my brother over me, or feared my power,” he added warmly and kissed your cheek,

“You’ve been my dearest friend since we met, Lokitty. I never wanted that to go away, just become…more,” you reminded him just as warmly. You flushed then and realized that you probably shouldn’t call him ‘Lokitty’ here. He did have appearances to maintain after all.

“That is all I desire as well, dearest,” his voice was a warm purr. His smile changed to a mischievous smirk. “You said you were uncomfortable with having maids because you used to be one?” he asked. He was genuinely curious, but also teasing a little, probably your discomfort with the maids in general.

You rolled your eyes. “Not everyone grew up in a palace,” you reminded him sourly, hoping he wasn’t looking down on your for your background. Though you saw from his expression that he wasn’t. “Mom was a hearth witch, a garden witch without a lot of power,” you reminded him. He nodded, remembering that you’d said you were much more powerful than she was. “I started outstripping what she could teach me about magic by the time I was five and that was much too young for me to start attending the magic school. As you well know, magic needs to be taught and used or it goes wrong.” That was answered with another inclination of his head. “We didn’t have the money for tutors, but one of the Grandmother witches was rich and powerful. She agreed to teach me if mom and I helped her with the chores she couldn’t do anymore. She let me keep the position through school. She paid decently and knew everything… I learned a lot more than just magic from her. Mom hated that I worked through school, but hearth witches aren’t in high demand and she didn’t make a lot of money…”

Loki stiffened a little at your defensive tone. “I didn’t mean to insult, I was simply curious about your life,” he explained.

“Sorry, I know. People just used to make fun of me for my secondhand books and robes. They were jealous that I was nearly the strongest in the class, since I didn’t come from a super powerful family, and I got top marks…. They didn’t care that I worked my ass off for those grades. They also seemed to have forgotten all about that since we graduated. I’ve been one of the most desired witches for my skills since then and have lived and worked in all facets of society from helping the poor to being a court lady… I didn’t really find anything I wanted to settle down to doing until I joined the Avengers,” He looked impressed at that part of your explanation, and was pleased at the glimpse into your past.

“Children can be cruel no matter the realm,” Loki’s voice was consoling. “Thor was always the favorite as physical strength is prided here…” It seemed he did understand. You reached a pair of double doors. “Ready, darling?” he asked. You didn’t know what was waiting for you, but you nodded. You would face whatever challenge arrived. Loki shifted so he was holding your hand, your joined hands lifted in an older escort style than you were used to, but you recognized it for what it was. He nodded to the doormen and they opened the double doors. He led you past the long dining tables to the stares of the court seated there. He looked straight ahead, not allowing himself to get distracted by the open stares, nor did he look at all like he noticed or cared about the attention.

He stopped in front of the head table where Odin, Frigga, and Thor were seated. “Allfather, Mother, may I present Lady Y/N, sorceress from Midgard, member of the team Thor and I work with to defend Midgard from threats, and the woman who has graciously allowed me the honor of courting her,”

You knew your cue and dipped a low, elegant, graceful curtsy. You were very well practiced over your 500 years in the art of the curtsy. Sera balanced herself on your shoulder effortlessly. Loki didn’t drop your hand while you did, just lowered his to accommodate. “Your majesties,” your words were simple and polite, and thankfully all you needed to say at this juncture.

“Welcome to Asgard, dear,” Frigga greeted you warmly, kindly, gently. Loki had been correct that she wasn’t going to hold the state you had been in when you arrived against you. Loki lifted your hand, a silent indication that you should rise. You did just as gracefully and Loki led you to your place at the table, he was next to Frigga and your place was next to his. Servants pulled your chairs out for you and seated you. It was something you hadn’t experienced in years and you had to pretend that it wasn’t weird. “Is this the creature from the egg?” Frigga asked you when Sera crawled to your other shoulder for a better vantage point.

“Yes, your majesty, this is Seraphina. Her true form is a dragon,” you added and lifted the cat off of your shoulder to show Frigga properly. Frigga questioned you on the little cat-dragon, and about magic on Midgard. She wanted to hear all about Loki’s adventures there and get to know the woman he spoke so highly of. She was so open and kind that you couldn’t help liking her and it stopped being important soon that she was the queen. She was just Loki’s mom and she seemed to absolutely adore you. It warmed your heart that she did and you saw Loki’s relief as well. “Loki has done quite a lot of work with me teaching at the magic academy,” you told Frigga. That was a safe story to tell and one that would befit his standing as a master magician here. Frigga was interested in the magic school and you and Loki could both tell her about it.

“Your Asgardian is quite good, dear,” Frigga told you, questioning your ability. Loki raised an eyebrow. He was so used to using Allspeak on Earth that he forgot you could actually speak his native tongue. Most times it didn’t even register with him or Thor when you switched over. The record without them noticing was two hours, and they only did then because Tony grumbled that he couldn’t understand what you were talking about and it wasn’t fair.

You gave her a smile. “I learned it as a child, studying other magical cultures was part of our education and since the Asgardians had visited Midgard previously, I felt it would be best to start with your language,” you’d learned a lot of languages over the years. You had fun annoying the others by speaking Russian with Nat, or Asgardian with the boys. Nearly everyone signed because of Clint, so that wasn’t as much fun. “You’re quite kind. Thor has reminded me that my accent is atrocious,”

No one questioned how much Sera ate and you wondered just how much bigger the dragon was going to get. You had a feeling whatever that magician had done was what had made her grow as fast as she had already.

After the meal, you had to put up with being shown off by Loki and Thor. Thor introduced you to Lady Sif and The Warrior’s Three. “Thor’s stupid warrior friends,” Loki whispered in your ear. You grinned.

“You best be saying nice things about us, Loki,” the taller blond one warned as he bowed over your hand to kiss it. “I may just have to woo your lady away if you cannot play nice,”

You rolled your eyes. “Good luck with that, flirt,” you replied, teasing. He gave you an overly elegant bow while Thor and the others boomed their laughter.

“This one ought to keep you on your toes,” he teased Loki. You leaned up and kissed Loki’s cheek.

“That she does,” Loki replied warmly and kissed you, claiming you in front of Thor’s stupid warrior friends.

“So why are you two back on Asgard? The Queen said this was a surprise visit,” Sif asked, concerned as to what trouble brought you here.

“There was trouble on Midgard,” Thor finally explained. “There is a group of…”

“Evil men who hunt and kill sorcerers,” you supplied when Thor couldn’t come up with a translation of the concept of witch hunters. Sif and the warriors all looked shocked and horrified by that.

“But magicians are treasured,” Sif protested, still horrified.

“They are,” Loki agreed and kissed the top of your head, reassuring. “These men are evil and posed a very real threat to my lady. We brought her here for safety and to recover from their attack,”

“We will take care of the menace upon our return. Our priority was getting Lady Y/N to safety. Our teammates are questioning one of the attackers and should have more information for us upon our return,” Thor added the explanation. They all got distracted talking about battles and fighting and things that happened on Asgard since Thor had been gone.

Loki wrapped an arm around your shoulders and escaped with you from the hall before the warriors noticed. He gave you a tour of the rest of the palace and finally led you out to the gardens. Sera leapt off of your shoulder when you were outside. You grinned up at her. “Go fly, Sera. I’m sure you want to stretch your other wings. Just don’t go to far,” she made a musical sound in reply and shifted forms as she flew higher. A sleek black dragon who was somehow now about the size of Toothless from the How to Train Your Dragon movies. You were still shocked at how fast she grew, but realized at the same time that you wouldn’t have to treat her like a child, which she was never meant to be, but as a cherished best friend, which is what the familiars were. She flew around the gardens trilling in delight while you and Loki strolled leisurely. She also didn’t give you away when you and Loki found a quiet alcove for stolen kisses.

#Loki #Lover #Imagine #Submitted fic #submission #nekoamamori #the witch's familiar #chapter 24

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chooseywoozy · 5 years

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A Courtesan of Rome: Chapter One - A Princess of Gaul

The year is 50 BCE. The Roman Republic is the most powerful nation in the world, and Julius Caesar is waging a campaign to conquer your homeland of Gaul. Tonight, you will make your debut as a courtesan and entertainer in Rome, at a party hosted by Senator Cassius Longinus.

You approach the lavish villa where you will make your debut, and knock on the door.

Arise: Smile… Be charming… And never let them know you want them all dead…

The door swings open, and a hush falls over the crowd of toga-clad patrician noblemen. Your bodyguard withdraws to the shadows as your villica, Lena, gestures dramatically, drawing all eyes.

Lena: Lords and Officers of the Senate… Our most esteemed host Senator Cassius Longinus…

Cassius: It is a honor to have you here.

Lena: Making her first appearance tonight, a beauty beyond compare, blessed by the Muses in all the arts, from composition to conversation…

All eyes follow as you cross the room, taking up your cithara.

Aris: Domina.

Patrician: Beautiful.

Patrician2: I’d like a taste of that…

Lena: Arise will now sing us the Song of Diana.

As you strum the first notes, the shimmering silk and gold time on your dress catches the fading sunlight.

Arise: Under Diana’s protection, we pure girls, and boys… We pure boys, and girls, we sing of Diana…

The crowd holds its breath as your flawless voice rings out, your ivory pick pulling each rippling note from the cithara’s seven strings. You watch the smug, self-satisfied faces of Rome’s elite, entranced by your singing, and feel a surge of pride and contempt. Slowing the music, you stretch your arms, letting the silk of your dress ripple along your sides as you perform the first, teasing movements of a dance.

Arise: Take whatever sacred name pleases you, be a sweet help to the people of Rome, as you have been of old.

Lena: Gentlemen, prepare yourselves for the prick of Cupid’s arrows, as you welcome the Princess of Gaul!

As you shift and drop your knee, the watching patricians burst into rapturous applause, snapping their fingers and flapping the ends of their togas. Lena whispers in your ear.

Lena: Remember, you need do nothing against your will… It’s time to meet your admirers.

Lena leaves quietly as you put the cithara down, readying your smile for the men who gather around.

Patrician2: A remarkable performance from a remarkable beauty. I had no idea Gallic women could even be trained to sing like that.

You roll your eyes inwardly, but carefully compose your face.

Arise: My thanks, domine.

You brace yourself for his kiss of greeting, but he has already turned to someone behind him.

Patrician2: You’re a lucky dog, Cassius! I’m changing my bet. My gold aureus against a night with her if Caesar’s taken Gaul.

Cassius: I told you already. I don’t bet on people’s lives.

The crowd parts and you see a tall handsome young man smiling warmly. He takes your hand and presses a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Cassius: Arise, mea carissima, your song was as beautiful as you. Welcome to my home.

Aris: I could not ask for a more handsome patron.

Cassius smiles, and for a moment you can almost forget he is Roman. Behind his patrician features, his eyes hold an unexpected kindness.

Cassius: Fortune smiles on me to have you here tonight. I know many men were vying to be the first to host the Princess of Gaul.

Arise: You are… not what I was expecting.

Cassius: Is that a relief or a disappointment?

Teasingly, you circle one of his fingers with your own and hear his sharp intake of breath.

Arise: We’ll have to find out…

Cassius: Truly, you must take care tonight or risk Venus herself looking down in jealousy of your beauty.

Patrician2: She is a vision to rival the gods.

Cassius grimaces, but politely nods toward the other man to introduce him.

Cassius: This is Senator Lucius.

Senator Lucius: Charmed.

You stiffly accept Lucius’ greeting kiss, then move aside, whispering to Cassius.

Arise: I shall certainly be grateful that you are my patron and not him.

Cassius: My apologies that you must be here with him at all.

Arise: How is it that someone as young as you is even serving in the Senate?

Cassius: I… took my father’s seat when he passed.

Arise: I’m sorry. I didn’t realise…

Cassius: Rome and the Republic meant everything to him. He would have wanted nothing more than for me to serve in his stead.

Cassius gestures at one of the candles burning in the shrine.

Cassius: That one is for him.

You touch his arm comfortingly, and he takes a breath, giving you a determined smile as you both cross the room. Cassius offers you a cup of wine.

Cassius: I’m sorry. I was hoping to… make your debut wonderful for you. You didn’t come here to listen to me talk about my father.

You give him a mischievous grin.

Aris: Then, just what were you imagining I would do for you, Senator Cassius?

Cassius: Just ‘Cassius.’ Please. Though I must confess, I did have an ulterior motive in hiring you tonight…

Arise: And here I thought it was for the sheer pleasure of my company.

Cassius: How could I ever not want that? But… It’s not always easy to make inroads as a new member of the Senate. I knew your debut would be a draw even for those who normally ignore me.

Arise: Is there… something you would have me do for you, then, to… win favor from these senators?

Cassius: only what you were trained to do. Play the cithara, sing, dance. Mingle with the men and talk to them. Perhaps listen and tell me what you hear.

Arise: I will charm your guests for you.

Cassius smiles and kisses your hand again. The softness of his lips against your skin sends a delicious shiver through you.

Cassius: I have no doubt. Perhaps you will grace us all with another song later.

Arise: Of course.

As another guest arrives, Cassius excuses himself, and Senator Lucius sees his opportunity to approach. He looks you over with a leer.

Senator Lucius: It seems Cassius plucked the prettiest flower in Gaul for himself.

Arise: He is my patron for this evening, yes.

Messenger: Domine! I bring news!

You turn to see a young boy, flushed and sweating from exertion. Lucius turns to him in annoyance, then checks himself at the clear urgency in the boy’s voice. He draws him aside.

Senator Lucius: What is it? But softly. I would not have everyone know…

The boy nods and lowers his voice as the senator leans close. Strumming your cithara, you station yourself nearby, listening intently while keeping your face carefully turned away.

Messenger: I came as soon as I heard Marc Anthony is on his way, domine! He brings news of how Caesar’s final battle went in Gaul!

EIGHT YEARS AGO…

You and your family were taken captive in Gaul. Caesar’s general, Legate Aquila, has brought you to Rome to display in a Triumph, a massive military parade to celebrate their victory over your tribe.

Victus: Hold your heads up. These Romans think they have taken everything from us, but they cannot take our pride! I am still chief of the Cowtowny.

Arise: The Cowtowny are no more.

Your brother’s face ripples in fury.

Cingerix: We should have died defending them!

Victus: No, Cingerix! We are defeated, not dead. As long as we live, we still have a chance to win our freedom, to find happiness again.

Delphinia: The gods have shown me the future, Arise. I see us together again, free.

Arise: How, Mother? When?

Your mother shakes her head, eyes still misty.

Delphinia: There are many trials we must endure for it to come to pass…

Victus: We will endure. Armor yourselves with your love and your memories. We must all bide our time until we can escape and find vengeance.

Delphinia: I pray the gods give us strength.

Cingerix: The gods would not demand this humiliation!

Arise: I believe we must have faith. The greatest challenges are tests of the gods. We must prove we’re worthy.

Victus: You are a warrior, Arise. The Cowtowny live on in you.

Delphinia: I pray the gods hear you, daughter. But I fear they can be careless with their playthings.

Cingerix: The gods favor Rome! Why else would they let it grow so large?

Arise: If all the tribes had only worked together against Rom… If they had come to our rescue…

Victus: That is what Rome relied on. They are picking us off, one-by-one. We can only hope that our defeat might spur the rest to ally with each other before it is too late.

The wagon rolls and bumps through the jutted streets as crowds of Romans jeer and throw garbage.

Voices: Filthy Gaul…! Savages…! Rome will destroy you all…!

Your father stops, looking back and forth between you and Cingerix.

Victus: Remember that I love you, that your mother and I both love you. You will survive this.

The crack of a whip makes you all fall back. At the front of the wagon, a Roman in full military regalia stands tall, accepting the adulation of the crowd.

Legate Aquila: I am Legate Aquila, conqueror of the Cowtowny tribe, under the command of General Julius Caesar!

Voices: Praise Caesar! Praise Legate Aquila!

Legate Aquila: I present to you the barbarian chief and his family, forced to their knees by the might of Rome!

The crowd erupts in cheers of triumph! Legate Aquila casually kicks your father in the gut.

Legate Aquila: Kneel, barbarian! And admit that Jupiter Maximus is the greatest of all the gods!

You grit your teeth and keep your head down as your father bows his head, eyes flashing with hatred.

Victus: I admit it.

Legate Aquila: Louder!

You father grinds the words out slowly through gritted teeth.

Victus: Hail… Jupiter… Maximus… Greatest of all gods…

Legate Aquila: Behold great Caesar’s conquest! The barbarian admits the might of Rome!

Legate Aquila kicks your father in the face, leaving a streak of blood on his lip, then turns his attention to the crowd. Your father gathers you close.

Victus: Listen to me. We don’t have much time.

Arise: What do you mean?

Victus: After the Triumph, they will separate us, sell us away from each other.

Arise: No--

Victus: It won’t be forever, Arise, I promise. But I need you all to swear a vow.

Cingerix: I will not submit--

Vicuts: Promise me, all of you, whatever you have to do, you will survive.

Delphinia: I vow it, by the gods of earth and sea, of life and death.

Victus: Promise to do whatever it takes to find each other again and get our vengeance on these Romans who destroyed us.

Arise: I vow to go to the ends of the earth to find you.

Your mother squeezes your hand tightly, tears running freely down her cheeks.

Delphinia: The gods tell me it will be many years before we see each other again, Arise. Do not forget us.

Arise: Never! I will play docile. I will cooperate. And I will wait for the first moment I am free to find you.

Delphinia: Whatever happens to you, wherever they send you, remember that we are still searching for you. Do all that you can to find us again.

Victus: You know the men most responsible for what happened. Legate Aquila, his tribunes, and Julius Caesar, the one who gave him his command. Hunt them down and make sure they suffer as we have suffered.

Your father uses the jagged edge of one manacle to cut a shallow slice in each of your palms. He presses yours to his.

Victus: May the gods bind you with this vow.

Delphinia: May they guide you and protect you, that you will live to see your promises fulfilled.

Cingerix: May they strike Legate Aquila dead now, or admit they’re powerless to help us!

Victus: I vow that whatever it may cost me, I will find you all again and see Legate Aquila drowned in blood!

Cassius: Are you alright? Arise?

You come back to yourself with a start, fingers moving on the cithara strings again, and see Cassius’ worried face close to yours.

Cassius: Is something wrong?

You look around and see that Lucius’ messenger has disappeared, but Lucius and several of his cronies are watching you and Cassius with suspicion. You pull your face into a smile.

Arise: I’m fine.

Cassius: Are you certain? You looked… worried.

Arise: I will not ruin your party with my musings.

Watching Lucius and the other senators from the corner of your eye, you firmly clamp down on your remembered anger.

Arise: I wanted to ask if there was a special song you would like me to play.

Cassius: Your song of Diana was lovely, but surely not something you used to sing in Gaul. I would love to hear a song from your homeland.

He winces as the smile freezes on your face. Cassius pulls you aside, into a small chamber off the main room.

Cassius: It must be difficult to escape such talk. The whole city has been waiting to hear of Caesar’s final battle in Gaul.

Arise: Is it the final battle? I thought the outcome was still in doubt.

Cassius: The tribes have all united under one leader Caesar and all his legates have them surrounded at the city of Alesia. Either he will triumph there, or Gaul will crush his army.

Arise: Then there is still a chance that Gaul may break free?

Cassius: It will all be decided at Alesia, one way or another. I’m sorry. I should not have brought this up with you. I have no wish to cause you pain.

Arise: It is not you who brought it up. Senator Lucius received word from Marc Anthony.

Cassius: From Anthony? Then the battle must be over. We have only to learn who won.

You both glance through the doorway to see Senator Lucius now smugly ensconced in a corner, whispering with a small knot of men. Cassius gives you a level look, all bashfulness gone, and you get a hint of how he has thrived in the Senate despite his youth.

Cassius: I hope you know, the Senate never ordered Caesar to invade Gaul. He did it against our wishes, to build his personal power.

Arise: From what I’ve seen, all of Rome celebrates his victories.

Cassius: The people love him. He gives them a taste of glory and conquest. But in the Senate, not everyone likes the power he is building.

Arise: Why? They never tried to stop him before.

Cassius leans close, voice soft as he glances at the door to be sure he isn’t overheard.

Cassius: I have long tried to convince my father and the Senate that Caesar’s ambitions don’t stop at the Alps. I believe he would crown himself King if he could.

Arise: There are no kings in Rome!

Cassius: No, Rome has not had a king for more than four hundred years. But I’m no longer the only one who worries that Caesar means to use his army to crown himself and put an end to our Republic.

You hear a guest calling from outside.

Guest: Cassius! I heard a rumor there was to be food at this party!

Cassius: Excuse me.

You follow Cassius out into the main room, where you hear a quiet knock at the door. You open it and see a beautiful young woman in the blue gown of a respectable Roman wife.

Young Woman: Oh! I- I didn’t realise… I was just here to see my cousin. I didn’t realise he had company… Especially someone as beautiful as you…

A loud burst of laughter comes from inside and the young woman flinches.

Young woman: Oh, he’s, um, it sounds like there are a lot of people here. I’ll just… see Cassius another time.

Arise: I’m sure Cassius will want to see you.

You smile at her, trying to set her at ease, but she looks away from your gaze, jaw tightening every time she hears the men’s voices from across the room.

Young Woman: You’re very kind. I should go. I should not be unescorted when there are strange men inside.

Arise: Should I tell Cassius you were here?

You follow the young woman outside as she hurries back to her litter.

Young Woman: If you like. Tell him I’ll come back tomorrow.

The litter-bearers kneel to allow her to climb inside.

Arise: Wait! What’s your name?

Sabina: Sabina.

Arise: I’m Arise. I hope to see you again.

Sabina gives you a sad look before the litter drapes closed without answering. As you turn back to the door, you see that Senator Lucius has followed you outside.

Senator Lucius: Ah, our lovely Gallic princess… I was hoping you were still here. Something about tonight puts me in mind to sample the wares of Gaul.

He reaches out to touch your face and you step out of reach.

Senator Lucius: Fine. Then how much will this buy me?

Curling his lip, he tries to hand you a gold aureus. You knock it aside.

Arise: I’m not interested!

Senator Lucius takes a step closer, reaching out to grab your arm… When suddenly, your bodyguard melts out of the shadows to throw him up against the wall of the villa, shoulder and knee pinning him in place!

Bodyguard: You will not touch her again! Arise is not your property! She’s a courtesan from the finest scholae in Rome…

EIGHT YEARS AGO, After the Triumph…

You stand in chains in a lavish room, the first time you’ve ever been inside a Roman building.

Arise: Why have you brought my here?

Legate Aquila talks in rapid Latin with an elegant woman. You don’t fully understand them, but you follow enough to realize that the legate is trying to sell you.

Woman: And why should I be interested in bringing this girl into my scholae?

Legate Aquila: She is a princess of Gaul, daughter of a defeated chief. Do you know how many men would pay good coin for her?

Arise: I am not yours to sell, monster!

The woman looks intrigued by your outburst.

Woman: Whose are you, then, little princess?

Arise: I belong to no one by myself. You may pay him coin for me and shackle me like a beast, but I will never belong to you!

The woman gives a decisive nod.

Woman: I’ll take her.

Arise: No!

Legate Aquila: Two thousand sesterces--

The woman waves her hand dismissively.

Woman: Take it up with my factor. I have better things to do than haggle.

Before you can even register what is happening, a servant has escorted the legate to the door, leaving you alone with your new mistress.

Arise: I am Arise of the Cowtowny! I won’t be your slave!

Woman: No. You won’t.

She gestures to a servant.

Woman: Get those chains off her.

The servant quietly unlatches the fetters from your arms and legs. You stand for a moment, rubbing the sores they left on your skin.

Woman: I am Lena. And this is my scholae, where I train the finest courtesans in Rome.

Arise: I will whore myself to no man.

Lena: Nor do I ask you to. I bought your freedom because I think you would rather earn money for me than be the slave Legate Aquila would make you. In my scholae, you can become one of the most influential women in Rome. You will learn to read and write, to recite poetry and play the cithara.

Arise: Why would I want that?

Lena: Because it gives you freedom. More freedom than any woman in Rome. As a courtesan you alone can go unescorted into the spaces where men decide our lives. And you will learn how to make them do anything for you.

Arise: What would I need to do?

Lena: You will train in the arts and graces until I say you are ready to make your debut as a companion and entertainer to Rome’s elite. As a courtesan of my scholae, you would have many patrons, some for a night or two, others for years if you keep their interest.

Arise: I can guess how you expect me to ‘keep their interest.’

Lena: I won’t ask you to do anything against your will, Arise.

Arise: Then why would any ‘patron want me?

Lena: You are a princess of Gaul. With my training, you will learn to make any Senator give his fortune just for the touch of your hand. It is the most power any woman can have.

Arise: Teach me to wield this power.

Lena: Good.

Lena looks at you pointedly.

Lena: Every girl I’ve ever taken on has had men who wronged her. You will hardly be the first to win a man’s love with only hate in your heart. As long as you’re bringing money to my scholae, I care little what you choose to do with the rest of your time.

Arise: … Show me what to do.

Lena calls over a large man in enameled white armor.

Lena: This is Syphax. He will be your bodyguard.

Syphax: You need fear nothing in my care.

Lena: I expect you to keep her safe, not only from men, but from her own worst impulses.

Syphax: Of course, domina.

Lena smiles, then runs a finger over your filthy cheek, still matted with blood and woad.

Lena: Now, I think a bath. If you want to beguile the men of Rome, you will have to learn to pass for Roman…

Syphax is still holding Senator Lucius.

Syphax: Nothing happens unless the lady offers first. Understand?

Senator Lucius: You have no right to lay hands on me!

Arise: Syphax… I can handle this myself. I have no interest in your patronage, Senator.

You give Syphax a tight nod, and he reluctantly releases the senator.

Syphax: My apologies for not intervening sooner, Arise. Lena wanted me to stay out of sight as much as possible during your debut.

Arise: Of course.

Several of the other guests have congregated at the doorway, drawn by the commotion. They move to make way as Lucius stalks inside.

Senator Lucius: You will regret this, girl. I offered your fair work for fair pay and you set your dog on me.

Arise: You insulted the honor of Lena’s scholae. You insulted me. You insulted my bodyguard. And you insulted our host, my patron.

You sneak a glance at the watching patricians, who are riveted by your fury.

Arise: You should be ashamed of yourself, Senator Lucius!

Several of the gathered men turn away from Lucius, shaking their heads. Cassius grasps Lucius firmly by the arm.

Cassius: Aris is my guest tonight, Lucius. Are you all right, Arise?

Lucius looks to the other patricians for support, but no one steps up.

Patrician: ...Terrible way to treat one of Lena’s finest courtesans…

Cassius: The food is served, Lucius. Perhaps we should go eat it before it gets cold.

With an apologetic look, Cassius leads the other senator away, leaving you alone with Syphax.

Syphax: You never did answer Cassius’s question…

Arise: What question?

Syphax: ‘Are you all right?’

Arise: I was just remembering how I came here. Lena gave me a chance at a life I never thought I would have.

Syphax: But a far different one than what you would have chosen.

Arise: I know my role here, Syphax. Look. I’m still smiling.

Syphax: And I know mine.

Arise: To protect Lena’s investment.

Syphax meets your gaze firmly, his brown eyes warm.

Syphax: To protect you. And not just from violence. You know it can be dangerous to wear your emotions too openly.

Your eyes sting with sudden tears, and you drop your gaze.

Arise: I thought after all this time, I would be better at hiding.

Syphax: The men are going to the other room to eat. You can take time to recover if you need it.

Arise: I know better than to let the words of a pig like Lucius affect me. But… his messenger told him that Marc Antony brings news back to the city. He’ll know whether Caesar was repelled or has conquered all of Gaul. He’ll know if Legate Aquila will finally return to Rome and be within my reach…

Syphax lays a comforting hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him.

Syphax: Then you definitely need time to recover. Perhaps we could take a moment to pray for your family?

Arise: I have prayed. Even when I knew no one was listening. It has done nothing.

Syphax: You can’t know that. You are here and safe and alive. If your parents pray, do you think they would ask for more than that? Perhaps your prayers have done as much for them.

Arise: I just wish I knew.

Syphax: Come, make an offering with me. If nothing else, it will give us a moment to spend alone… away from curious eyes.

Arise: Perhaps I would feel better if I took a moment…

Most of the guests have moved further inside, leaving the shrine relatively shielded from the clamor of voices. You sigh in relief.

Arise: In Gaul, we never spent so much time inside walls. You forget how loud they make everyone seem.

Syphax: And seeing you tonight, as beautiful and polished as the most sophisticated noblewoman, you forget you’re still a barbarian inside.

You give Syphax a mock glare.

Arise: Take that back.

Syphax: It’s true. No one who looked at you would think you were born to anything but luxury. Are you breathing more easily now?

Arise: I’m still a little shaken up. It’s been so long since I was in Gaul. Some days… I barely even think about it. But…

Syphax: But then you feel worse, because how can you have forgotten?

Arise: All this time I’ve been here, Caesar is still in Gaul, still killing people… People like me.

Syphax: You remember, my people were defeated by Rome as well.

Arise: That’s right. You don’t talk about it often--

Syphax: No. My land of Numidia, what Rome calls ‘Africa,’ was brought under Rome when my parents were children.

Arise: Why did you leave?

Syphax: My father took part in an uprising… what Rome decided was an uprising. They sent me away from him, put me in the legions for a time. I preferred to make my own way.

Arise: What happened to your family?

Syphax: Perhaps we should make an offering in our families’ memories.

Arise: I will make an offering in their honor. They are not dead.

Syphax: Of course.

Arise: We swore we would find each other again. No matter what it took.

Syphax: I hope you do. For me, it was easier to move forward once I let go.

Syphax takes out a silver coin with two ears of grain imprinted on one side.

Syphax: Great Mother Isis, accept this gift as you accepted the souls of my family. Care for them and hold them close.

He lays the silver coin on the shrine, where it reflects the dancing torchlight.

Syphax: Do you want to make an offering?

You pull a ring from your finger, plain gold, set with an unpolished stone. You lay it on the shrine.

Arise: Gods of my ancestors, I offer you this ring. Protect my family, wherever they might be.

You pause to consider what prayer to offer.

Arise: Please, gods, keep my family safe.

You lower your head, tears pricking at your eyelids as you pray silently.

Arise: (Just keep them safe, please. Even if I never find them again, I just want them to live and be free.)

You lift your head, looking at your offering.

Arise: I have little of my own to offer. The gods may think I have nothing worthwhile to give them.

Syphax takes your hand, turning it over to see the groove left on your finger where the ring had been.

Syphax: The gods accept any offer sincerely made.

Arise: But they do little to grant the prayers of anyone but Rome.

Syphax glances at you in concern. You shake your head and smile.

Arise: You were right. I was too bitter to stay at the party. I feel… lighter now.

Syphax: To look at you now, no one would guess how much you’ve gone through.

Arise: But they all know. I am ‘the Princess of Gaul,’ am I not? That is how Lena sells me.

Syphax: You look as though you were born to the highest ranks of Rome. But with a fire in you no proper Roman daughter would be allowed.

Arise: I shall be the best Roman. If I must live as one I them, I shall show there is nothing they can do better than me.

Syphax: You will draw the eye of every man in Rome. And make every wife jealous. It is my job and duty to protect you, Arise. But you have more than just my service as a bodyguard. I hope you will always see me as a true and loyal friend.

Arise: Your friendship is valuable to me. I have been here eight years and there is no one else in Rome I would call ‘friend’ yet.

Syphax: I am honored by your trust.

Suddenly, you hear Cassius’s voice from the other room.

Cassius: Arise? Arise…? Where did she go?

Arise: I should… return to the party.

With one look back at your offerings on the shrine, you and Syphax turn to meet the guests who are returning to the front room. You make your way back to Cassius, who takes your hands graciously.

Cassius: My sincere apologies for Senator Lucius, Arise. He should not have presumed to lay hands on you. I’m glad your bodyguard was there to protect you.

Arise: That’s why he’s here.

Cassius: I should have known Lucius would not respect my home. There are many men I must work with in the Senate. Most of them are not who I would pick if I had the choice.

Arise: I wish we could just be alone together.

Cassius gives a slow smile and brushes a kiss on your cheek, murmuring softly.

Cassius: As do I.

He gives a disappointed glance at the guests still milling behind him. Suddenly, the room goes silent!

Outside, you hear the steady beat of marching feet. Everyone looks to the door and you hear the rattle of armor as someone approaches. Cassius meets your gaze with apprehension as his front door slams open to reveal a sharp-eyed man, dressed as if he has come straight from the battlefield.

Marc Antony: Greetings, Cassius.

Cassius: Antony…

Senator Lucius: Marc Antony… Back from fighting the barbarian hordes.

Antony surveys the room, taking in the shock and trepidation with clear enjoyment.

Marc Antony: I’ve just returned from the front. I bring you news of Caesar’s victory in Gaul!

The words hit you like a blow.

Arise: Gaul has fallen. I can never go home again…

Thoughts on the episode…

First of all, the music is absolutely wonderful and I love every second of it. It captures the feel of the story perfectly and each soundclip fits exactly right at each moment without feeling inappropriate.

I will say the story hasn’t immediately captured me the way others have, but this seems like the kind of story that requires a build-up and has a slow-burn release of information to keep you coming back. But it was a decent length even without the diamond scenes and the diamond scenes themselves weren’t too expensive - 12 diamonds for a diamond scene was perfectly acceptable to build your relationship with a love interest - especially considering they’ve been known to charge 30 diamonds for much less.

For Marc Antony himself to have come straight back from battle and head straight to Cassius’s house… what kind of power does Cassius’s family have???? We should pursue him as a love interest for status alone!

Fave Character of the Chapter: Lena

Least Fave Character of the Chapter: Cingerix

#a courtesan of rome #acor #choices acor #choices #playchoices #playthrough

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theory-talestelltalesss · 6 years

Text

∙ Parallel Hearts 2 ∙

Idea:

AU where Taehyung is a former street artist who sells Van Gogh imitations in Paris that gets him in trouble.

Description:

Her is a docile perfectionist art student who is unsatisfied with the course of her life. She meets Taehyung, a beautiful and free-spirited boy who sells Van Gogh imitations to pay his tuition for art school. They have something that the other lack. Her needs Taehyung’s creativity and Taehyung needs Her’s painting skills in order for them to produce great paintings. Her is the better painter but Taehyung is the better artist. One day, they wake up and the other is nowhere to be found. Both of their pursuit is to use their paintings as clues to find where the other is. Along the way, they learn more about each other and uncover a dark past.

You can read more details of the fic HERE if this is your first time.

-TT 🌹

Chapters: | 1 | 2 | - (Fanfic in progress )

CHAPTER 2: THE GAME

(8.3 K words)

Third wing studio. Third wing studio. Third wing studio.

It compulsively echoes in Her’s mind like an alarm clock in the morning. She blasts the music through her earphones, trying to drown out her thoughts with each melodic beat. In a pursuit to concentrate on the items she assembled in her corner before class, she picks up the broken piece of chalk pastel again and begin scratching the surface of her canvas. A ray of the morning light from the windows of the slanted roof luminesce her canvas into a bright neon white.

To Her, oil painting class always had one of the best ambience on campus. Student artworks cover the brownish white walls made from the past number of classes, always in view for critiquing. Paper maché animals made by the sculptors in the other class gracefully float from the ceiling. Curtains and tapestry dangle from the windows and house plants both big and small cover each corner of the room. Old wooden carts are neatly placed by an easel, each temporarily owned by a student. The room is quiet, filled only with the whispers of scratches against the canvases made by the students. However, the room’s ambience contrasts Her’s feelings at the current moment.

Her’s professor is making rounds, hopping from one student to another, listening to each student as they present to him briefly about the current state of their work. He then critiques their ideas and objectives afterwards to enhance their paintings. Soon, it will be Her’s turn, but her mind is somewhere else, distracted, and she’s afraid she might not be able to communicate her thoughts properly. Her efforts become futile every time she tries to push the mischievous boy’s image from her mind.

“Her...Heeerrr. Hey Her! you just knocked down your turpentine,” Gabrielle rushes to her side to turn the bottle up. She then grabs a bunch of paper towels and soaks them with the metallic odorous liquid that floods her cart.

“Are you ok, Her? You have a glazed look in your eyes,”

“Uh- yeah, sorry, no, I’m ok,” she grabs some of her art materials and transfers them to an extra cart nearby.

“Gabrielle…do you know where the third wing studio is?” her lips started moving on their own, and instantly she regrets her words as soon as they left her lips.

“Yeah, you just have to cross the grounds and go into the other building. Is that what you were thinking about?”

“I- uh,” Her tries to come up with a lie, but she remembers she’s horrible at lying. In fact, other than the fact that she is docile and timid, she is also honest and conscientious. It’s how she grew up to be. “I just have some business there to take care of. No worries,” Her tries to avoid Gabrielle’s eyes that should already come as a signal that she is awful in doing anything that requires deceit.

“Ok…it has a sign, you won’t miss it,” she assures her as she takes a peek at Her’s canvas, then hovers over it, “Her! This is so good!”

“Thanks, it’s a little messy right now but I will try to clean up the lines later,”

“What are you talking about??? It looks so real! And it’s not even finished yet! You really have some skills, Her. It’s not fair you being so good at art history too!” Gabrielle shows a pretend jealous pout. “You chose a bunch of glass bottles and lace to paint too? Those must be a pain in the ass!” she exclaims as she gawks at Her’s highlights on the glass bottles of her painting.

“Mmhm! Interesting choice, Ms. Lune. What’s the idea behind this?” Professor Jacques slashes the quiet air with his trademarked posh voice, cutting their conversation as she looks at Her with a proud and debonair charm waiting for a response. The two friends get startled, but thankfully, talking to Gabrielle about her piece prepped her mind for the ready response she’s practiced at breakfast.

“Professor, I want to get better with painting translucency and distinguishing between objects of the same color, in this case, white. The lace is inspired by Mierevelt and how he paints Dutch clothing, particularly the lace collars, and the color palette would be somewhat like Giorgio Morandi’s still lifes.”

Portrait of a Lady of the Van Beijeren van Schagen Family by Mierevelt (Year 1620).

Natura Morta still life by Giorgio Morandi (Year 1956).

He inspects closely on the lines of her work and the contrast of the initial smudges of grey on her canvas. She elaborates on her desired concept, the shades of her color scheme, and her planned final composition.

“As expected Ms. Lune, you’re always ready before making a new piece. And you definitely always try to challenge yourself! That’s what I like!…With this perspective, the color, the items that you chose…they’re hard to paint but I know your skills do not waver!” Her smiles from ear to ear and feels a sense of accomplishment and pride in his compliment.

“However!” Oh no. “This time, I want to challenge you more than you challenge yourself. That’s what I do as a professor! I think your skills to realistically illustrate things are pretty advanced than the rest of the class so I think this time, you should use your items as a guide instead. Rather than a basic still life, use your items as uh- as uh- loose guide for a scene or something. Make them have a story! Yes, a story! That’s the word,” he advises.

“Uh I-I’ll try my best professor,” she timidly accepts his challenge as she is docile and a perfectionist, even though she knows that when it comes to creativity, she lacks in that aspect a thousand fold. The talk between the professor and the student was going so well until he asked for something that she knows she clearly does not have.

“Yes, yes, yes. I’ll be looking forward to what you come up with,” he says as he walks to the person in front of Her, ready to pounce on another poor soul to interrogate.

“Well, you handled that better than last time,” Gabrielle said. “I know you’re always nervous about these things but it’s just a talk. Your piece is literally just a draft right now. You can always change it later if you don’t like it!” she attempts to comfort Her. Gabrielle is fairly familiar with Her’s perfectionist character and she’s thankful to have her by her side when she goes almost neurotic.

“I know but…you know me. I can’t help it sometimes,” she purses her lips.

“I know, I know. You and your perfectionist butt!” she points and pokes Her’s nose with a smile. “Oh!…but but but! Last night you didn’t act like your typical perfectionist butt, you know! You came home later than usual. It was your turn to cook too! I missed you before I left for Jimin’s last night.”

Her’s eyes widen as she picks up the chalk pastel again and try to avoid her gaze. She bargains with herself if she should attempt giving a lie again for she’s not sure if she should tell anyone about him yet. She feels wary to further meddle with a person with such deviance and she’s afraid that telling anybody about him might misunderstand. However, Her thinks it’s the only way she would know who he is.

Gabrielle has quite the reputation to know everyone. She’s one of those determined new freshmen who wanted to meet anyone and everyone in a sea of new faces. People would even say she thrives on socializing. How she decided to stick to an introvert like Her, nobody would fully understand-- not even Gabrielle nor Her. The saying ‘an introvert makes friends by having an extrovert adopt them’ is true for their friendship, and Her is thankful for having a trusting friend like her. She’s the only one she would trust in asking about a boy.

“I’m sorry, Gabrielle. T-trust me, it wasn’t my fault...this guy-” she sighs. “…Do you know anybody in our year named Taehyung Soleil?”

“OH MY GOD. Is that why you were late?! You hooked up with someone last night?!...Finally! Was he hot?” Gabrielle jokes as she raises her eyebrows, eager for a response.

“No I didn’t! Can you not be so loud here?!” she whispers sharply as she sends daggers her way with her eyes and pushes her dirty fingers against her lips, marking her face with black chalk.

“Pfftttt-” she shakes Her’s hand out of her face and looks at her with pretend disgust. Her instantly bursts out in quiet laughter as she enjoys the view of her expression accessorized with the funny smudge of dirt across her face. Gabrielle looks like she ate a pile of coal and she starts laughing as well as she guesses what her face might look like. Her takes a wet paper towel and wipes her face as she explains.

“No no, missy. You already know I’m never going to have an escapade with you,”

“Why not?! Last time I checked this was college, not a convent,”

“Haha, I know I know. But I don’t think I need to explain once more I don’t do those kinds of things, Gabrielle,” Her says softly but sternly.

“Mmm...ok ok, Ms. Perfect. But who is this Taehyung guy?”

“Well...I was at the Panthéon last night and met this guy named Taehyung. He says he studies here too. Our year is small but I never met him before or even heard of him. If I don’t know him, I figured you would since you’re a big and beautiful social butterfly,” Her pokes her cheeks.

“Taehyung Soleil hmmm...nope, never heard of him! That’s a unique name too. I would’ve remembered if I heard it. What does he look like?”

Right then and there, she recalls Taehyung’s looks and her skepticism along with her curiosity reaches a climax. There is no ounce of doubt in her mind that others would notice his looks in a school that is specifically devoted to studying, glorifying, and creating aesthetics.

Is it just me? That’s impossible. He even said a lot of people ask him to be his model countless of times. His angry attitude then is besides the point but with how he described it, it seems like he would be a very well-known person already?

Her then realizes she should be bound to see him on at least one of the student paintings on the walls or drying racks.

“Ladies! Don’t you have something to work on? Let’s. Get. To. Work.” Professor Jacques booms across the classroom as he claps with his words. Their fellow classmates look in their direction automatically like a flock of pigeons.

“Sorry, Professor,” she apologizes meekly as she looks at Gabrielle, acknowledging her shift of movements towards her seat.

That’s...odd.

Her’s left even more curious about the boy who just became more interesting now that she knows for a fact that he escaped Gabrielle’s acquaintance. She forms more questions in her head at a rate faster than crossing them off her list.

Meet me at the third wing studio...third wing studio...third wing studio....For goodness sakes!

Her turns the volume to its maximum as she tries to shift her attention to the objects before her and then again, pick up her chalk pastel for an infinite time.

In the middle of Her’s classes, she searches the different rooms of the art school where she thinks people would store their paintings. After oil painting class, she searches the first-year drying racks. After drawing class, she searches the practice studios. After art history class, she even searches the second-year, third-year, and fourth-year classrooms just in case an older senior encountered him and asked him to model.

However in the end, Her comes up empty handed. There was not a painting of him on the walls or even the drying racks. In fact, all the paintings were all either of scenes, objects, or of women. None of the strokes of paint hinted of a male, especially not someone who has his features or his stature.

Did he lie to me? If he did, why?

Her wears her backpack and holds her art box with one hand as she walks on the brick steps across the courtyard of the campus to the other building. She enters the building Gabrielle pointed out that morning and skips up the curved staircase that leads to a big hallway.

Third wing studio. Third wing studio? Third wing stu- here!

She sees the sign that leads to another empty but brightly lit hallway. With slow and frugal steps, she walks down the hallway, shifting her head from side to side to peek at the windows of the classrooms.

After a moment of searching, she sees the boy alone in an enormous maroon-walled room, sitting calmly at the edge of a large open window. He rests his body against the frame as one of his arms dangle like a seesaw on his knee, and his hand mindlessly twirls a pencil in between his fingers, unconsciously matching the emphasis of his thoughts. He looks outside at the ants of people passing by with his tiger-like eyes ready to hunt. Suspenders hang from his pants that suggests to Her a long day of school.

She almost didn’t recognize him since his hair looks more golden under the bright rays of the sun and his top is very clean and white unlike last night’s. He wears a loose collared shirt, openly unbuttoned with another layer underneath. He’s also wearing round rectangular spectacles that sit on the bridge of his nose that it almost changes her reckless concept of him completely. Almost.

“So you came,” his deep voice reverberates without shifting his head in her direction. He catches her off guard, thinking that he didn’t notice her at the door, and she’s not sure how to respond.

“Hello…” she greets him quietly. She pushes the door to make way for herself to enter. He shifts his head after a few seconds but only to look at the floor to hop off the window.

He doesn’t look at her but instead purposefully walks across the room, tapping random furniture that he meets along the way with his pencil. As he taps a furniture, Her realizes the furniture is mismatched in the current room, unlike oil painting class. Different styles of furniture are scattered everywhere-- modernized tables, victorian lamps, industrial shelves, and rustic benches to name a few. The walls are also covered with various kinds of decorations, mismatching like the furniture. It reminds her of her family’s furniture shop back home where her parents would introduce to their customers the diverse types of interior styles. However, what catches Her’s attention is an ostentatious but gorgeous golden couch that glows brighter the longer she looks at it. Taehyung continues to pace across the room as he bites a fingernail and continues to be lost in thought as if she’s not in the room.

“Are you ok?” she settles down her things at the nearest seat she can find. Finally, he looks at her and his expression changes to a light smile.

“I prepared those for you,” he nods to her right as he takes a seat near his canvas from across the room. He slouches down arrogantly with legs spread and arms crossed, and he pushes his glasses up his nose as he droops down.

She takes the object sitting on top of a coffee table and stretches it out with her hands. The crumbled garment becomes a graceful blue chiffon dress heavily designed with sparkling beads, feathers, and fringes that line the bottom. It looks like a vintage flapper dress from the twenties. She sees that it includes a silky turban, and on the floor are a pair of Mary Janes.

“Huh? What does this mean?” she asks him confused.

“I need you to wear it,”

“For what?”

“You do remember you have to make it up to me right?” a smile grows mischievously on his face.

This dress seems too lavish for anything informal. Maybe for a party? Ah...Gabrielle never told me there’s an upcoming event lately? Must be for the freshman spring dance? Why would he give me a dress?

“Yes…is this for the spring dance or something?” she said even though she honestly forgot this is the reason why they were meeting. She was more preoccupied to getting more information about him than to worry about the favor she has to do for him.

“Good idea but no, I need a model for my new project!” He claps his hands once.

What?!

“WHAT?! No no no…I can’t be your model,” Her sets down the dress in a frantic panic.

“Oh yes you can!” He giggles as he stands up quickly and walks over to her. He grabs the dress and stretches it in front of her body, checking loosely if it would fit, “Trust me, I’ve already envisioned it and you’re the only one that could help.”

“But-but I’ve never modeled for anyone before,”

“Hah! You’re funny. It’s not rocket science you know!” he laughs and puts the dress in her arms.

He grabs the turban and the shoes, and pushes her to the back of the studio where she sees a folding Japanese dressing screen in front of other miscellaneous items for painting, as well as other garments for modeling. The floor is covered with satin, polyester, linen, measuring tapes, and other sewing tools mindlessly scattered across the floor.

He twists her by the shoulders to turn her towards the full-body mirror behind the dressing screen. He puts his face near the crook of her neck and inspects her face and her body through the mirror.

“You are perfect,” he says. She then sees his eyes become focused and almost prying the more he stares through the mirror to visualize his project in his mind.

So, this is how he feels every time I stare at him.

“Oh no, I forgot you have long hair…this won’t do…” he brushes his hand through her long wavy hair as he thinks of what to do. “I need you to look like a flapper. I guess I’ll go find some hair ties and pins in the makeup room next door. In the meantime, get dressed…my model.”

She cheekily smiles through the mirror and Her gives him a scowl before he dashes to the door.

“Is there really no other way I can make it up to you?” she shouts as he leaves with quick footsteps and she hears a faint ‘no’ in return. She sighs in defeat, trying to play in her head how she could’ve prevented this consequence. She’s still curious to know as to why he feels too sensitive about people staring at him but at the same time, too cautious to ask since it might make him boil again.

She changes into the dress and the mesh cloth feels gentle on her skin. The dress is sleeveless with a boxy cut, typical of dresses in the twenties. Feathers poke out at the sleeves and fringes line its bottom. The low V-cut collar is heavily beaded with sequences and pearls that are form in shapes of flowers and stretches out to the rest of the dress.

Even though beautiful, she could not deny the fact that the dress fits big on her no matter how much twisting and turning she does. Not only that but the Mary Janes feel tight on her that she feels her pinky toes rub against the inside.

In fairness, he couldn’t have known my size without asking me.

As a consolation though, the silky turban stretches well and fits snug on her head. Her recalls she’s asked Gabrielle to model for her a few times for her projects but she’s quite unfamiliar with playing the opposite role. Gabrielle has a wonderful physique and symmetrical features, unlike herself, who has a rounder face and a borderline underdeveloped body for her age. Her looks in the mirror and she can’t help but notice that her bare and pale face does not match the exquisite taste of the dress. She’s seems like a toddler trying to fit into her mother’s dress.

Some of us are luckier than others, I guess...if Gabrielle’s Adele from Gustav Klimt’s portrait, then I’m Margaret Theresa of Las Meninas.

Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I by Gustav Klimt (Year 1903-1907).

Las Meninas by Diego Velásquez (Year 1656).

While eyeballing what she thinks are underdeveloped parts of her body in the mirror, she detects footsteps repeat in the room and stop just by the dressing screen.

“Are you dressed, my model?” Taehyung teases as he waits for a signal.

“Don’t call me that...you can come in,” she retorts as he then takes a step inside.

“Ha! It’s a little big!” he chuckles as he looks up and down at her with fingers on his lips, “I knew you were petite but that’s the only dress of its kind that I could find. Here, I can tailor it temporarily. Turn around.”

She timidly faces the mirror and she feels her hair being pulled aside. She sees him through the mirror gather cloth by her waist and fold it vertically by the zipper to tighten it. She can’t help but feel his hands tickle her skin. Goosebumps shoot up her spine. She gulps and she wishes her nervousness goes with it and dissolve.

H-How did this get intimate so suddenly?

“Does that feel right?” he asks her through the mirror as he presses his hand onto the curve of her back to hold the adjustment in place. Her tries to cover her face as much as she can with her hair to hide her tomato face.

“Yeah- just- pin it down please,” she wants to scold herself multiple times.

I could’ve just skipped coming here.

“All right, Her. Don’t move,” he whispers behind her as he takes dressmaker pins from a small drawer beside him and holds a few of them between his lips.

Her breathing ceases and it’s not because she wants to avoid getting pricked with his pins. He then kneels on one knee to adjust his height to see properly. Her breaks into sweat and become more and more paralyzed as he slowly moves down her back, dangerously near her bottom. His hand heats through the mesh and she arches her back in an attempt to keep some distance. She closes her eyes and becomes gradually nervous as she feels his caterpillar hands go down her body.

“Another pin down…” he muffles through the pins between his lips.

“and another pin,”

“and another,”

Her’s hands clench into rock-hard fists.

If he goes down any further, I swear I’m gonna –

Out of nowhere, she hears his deep voice in very close proximity to her ear, “I’ll stop there.”

She opens her eyes and she sees him standing up instead of kneeling down.

“Y-You look pissed haha. Please don’t hurt me,” he teases as he looks at her hands in tight fists. He laughs and hunches over to hold his abdomen. She sees his face with complete joy from her reaction and again, Her is at lost for words. She now realizes that he knows what goes on in her mind because he always leads her to think a certain way.

“Ughhh, Taehyung!” she intends to give him a slap on the arm but he opens his hand to meet hers and made it seem like they just high-fived.

“Haha! Why are you so red? Did I make you nervous…my model?” he chuckles. She doesn’t reply and she waits for him to get his laughs out of his system.

“Are you done now?” she sarcastically asked.

“Relaaaax, I wasn’t going to touch you,”

She sighs, exhausted by his jokes. “Do you want me to tuck in my hair under the turban?” she says as she shakes the turban in the air.

“Haha, yes, please!” He hands her a small box of hair pins and hair ties he found from the other room. “Come out when you’re ready!”

He walks to the other side of the dressing screen and she hears him drag furniture in different parts of the room. Her looks at herself in the mirror and tries to imitate a bob hairstyle, just like the chic women in Tamara de Lempicka’s works.

Although, I’m not the usual glamorous socialite she always painted.

Self-portrait in the Green Bugatti by Tamara de Lempicka (Year 1925).

Her walks out to the other side awkwardly with the tight Mary Janes on her feet. She sees Taehyung setting up the painting scene he’s visualized. She sees that Taehyung pushed some of the furniture away from an open area and drag the gorgeous golden couch with scallop edges near the big open window. He lifts it on top of a Persian carpet several times to make it perfect. She notices that he took off his long sleeves and is now in a white t-shirt to ease himself of moving furniture around.

“Taehyung, do you need help setting up?”

“No no- ugh- it’s ok, just…hold on a moment,” he drags the couch more against the carpet until he’s pleased with how its placed. “Almost done,”

He then jumps on the window pane fearlessly and takes off the transparent white curtain that hung from its pole. He flings it on the couch and neatly assembles it until he is pleased with how the folds and creases flow. From a box, he grabs and tosses white baby’s-breath on the scene. Then, he carefully lays out various brands of liquor bottles on the floor marked with different brands.

“I hope you don’t mind I borrow this,” From his pocket, he takes out familiar scraps of patterned lace that was leftover from Her’s own project.

“Did you snoop through my things?!” she asks appalled but somehow not surprised.

“It was hanging out from your box and I just opened it slightly to free it. Don’t worry,”

So no concept of personal space and respect for people’s belongings.

He sets down the lace under some of the liquor bottles and throws another on the couch. Finally, he takes out a stuffed cat with fur that’s colored black, white, and orange.

“Here, I want you to hold this. It’s a plushie but I can’t expect a snobby cat to sit in a position for hours,” he observes the cat as he walks over to where Her is standing. He lands his eyes on her and stops in his tracks. A smile grows on his face as he cups her cheeks with his hands.

“Beautiful,” he whispers as he sees the entirety of the outfit for the first time. “Exactly as I imagined!” The way he looks at her and the soft tone of his voice makes her feel a gush of embarrassment even though he just said one word. Her shakes herself out of his grasp.

“Uh…it’s mostly the dress…so you said you want me to hold this?” she tries to distract him from commenting any further on her appearance and she takes the Calico cat in her arms.

“Oh, yes…Sit on the couch over there and slouch on your side on the arm,”

They walk over to the couch and she props herself according to his directions. She tries her best to avoid looking stiff and tense.

“Sorry, like I said, it’s my first time modeling for someone,” she defends herself needlessly.

“Try to relax. Make yourself languid like you’re melting on the couch,” he suggests as he hovers over her to check the placement. All of a sudden, he becomes serious and commanding while he directs the scene and holds his chin over his knuckles. Her tries to do as he says, becoming more self-conscious of her already horrible performance.

“Hold this also,” he puts a half-filled champagne glass in her hand.

“Hmm, I don’t think this will do,” he brushes his hand across her heel, swipes the Mary Janes off her feet, and lifts her legs on the couch, placing them in a specific way.

“Heh, I bet you liked that. Your pinky toe is as red as your face a while ago,” he said, referring to the incident that happened a while ago.

What is with him and physical contact?

Her’s complaints must have been heard by some higher power because now he doesn’t touch her to direct her, but instead, he taps her with the pencil he was spinning a while ago to instruct the finer placement of her body parts.

“Lift this up a little,” he taps her elbow.

“Move that back there,” he taps her shoulder.

“Put your hand there,” he taps her forehead.

“And finally,” Taehyung pushes the underside of Her’s chin and lifts it upwards, “Don’t look anywhere else but me,” he smirks, only inches away from her face.

Taehyung pushed Her past her edge, feeling treated like a toy, that she couldn’t help but blurt out the first thing in her mind after that statement.

“I’m seriously about to hit you,” she says, failing to further hold her thoughts anymore.

“Hey now, what’s with the tone?” he smiles, “You know-- it’s funny. You’re making it up to me for staring, even to the point that I snapped,” he walks away and sits in front of his easel, “But I’m also letting you look at me for a longer period of time, sweet cheeks. It might be the only acceptable time I would not be angry,” he crosses his arms. “Heh, I know you want to paint me too, like the other students out there. Take this opportunity to look at me more, yeah? Maybe by the end of this, you’ve memorized my face so well you see me in your dreams. But, in the meantime, what kind of music do you like?” he smirks at her waiting for a reply.

He solidifies his impression of having a way with words and in a sense that it makes her have mixed feelings towards them. Again, she’s speechless and he chuckles at her expression because he knows he’s right. She know he’s right.

“Put on some soul,” she says through gritted teeth.

“Excellent choice!” he claps.

He plays with the radio next to his easel until he finds the right station. A familiar song fills the air, Yves Montand’s Les Feuilles Mortes. Her hopes that this slow solemn tune will help her be at ease with the rather uncomfortable situation.

Taehyung then starts swiping the surface of his canvas to sketch the outline of the scene. She notices that his hand movements are swift and erratic, contrary to how she usually paints. At intermittent phases, he looks at her directly with an intense gaze and with eyes furrowed, concentrating on the shapes and contours of her face.

“Her, don’t stop looking at me,” he says sternly.

For a few times, she breaks eye contact as she could not take his gaze any longer. She looks at him again with difficult effort and tries to feel comfortable laying on the couch. She starts a conversation, thinking that it might help the awkward air.

“What are you trying to do with your painting?”

“Weell...my professor wants us to study textures so I brought together many different types of textures. Your dress, that silk turban, the transparent curtain, that furry cat, the glass bottles, the lace, the carpet…” The more he lists things, the more impressed she got by how much he’s thought his painting through.

“…But the main concept is…maturity,”

“Maturity? That’s…different”

“Well, thank you. Every artist wants to be different.” Her didn’t mean for that to be a compliment. She meant the concept seemed too mature for his type of personality but she doesn’t feel like correcting him. He continues, “I’m sure you could figure out how I decided to illustrate maturity.”

“Mmm…the liquor bottles, the baby’s-breath, and…me.” It clicks in her head exactly why he wants her in particular to be his model. “So you wanted to use my innocent face and my petite frame, huh?” Her has been told many times of her youthful physical features and she’s come to acknowledge it after too many comments.

“You don’t have to say it that way but it’s interesting how you know yourself well,” he smirks at his canvas. “An innocent girl whose lips touched alcohol for the first time! That’s why I made you look tipsy,” She looks down at her body and she instantly understands his words. “I chose to paint a flapper because…well, you can guess.”

“…mmm, I know women started being rebellious back then,”

“You know, the twenties was a wiiiild time! So wild they called it ‘Roaring’! Don’t you think innocence was easily corrupted at a time when being wild was the trend? Young girls probably felt the urge to mature quickly.”

Her’s mood suddenly shifts to an irritated and uncomfortable one to one that’s stunned. She finds it interesting, but strange, how he’s able to shift his personality from one that’s playful, to one that’s like a scholar. She realizes she’s seen this side of Taehyung outside by the bus stop. She’s reminded that he’s deeper person than he let on.

He’s so...creative.

It surprises her how much symbolism he’s produced for one painting. It reminds her of Renaissance paintings convoluted with symbols like Gustave Moreau’s works– abundant with images of good and evil.

Oedipus and the Sphinx by Gustave Moreau (Year 1864).

“You know…I-I’m honestly very impressed. I think your painting will come out well,” Her said shyly.

“Weeeell, that’s if I can pull it off,” he shifts his gaze from his canvas and looks at her. “I don’t know how many times I’ve heard that I have trouble with my realistic techniques, something you said that you were good at,” he says as he points a wet paintbrush at her.

“With time, you can always learn and practice realism…but coming up with things like how you just did, that’s different. No one can really learn how to do that.”

“The professors don’t think soooo,” he says in melody.

“Well, would you like me to give you some tips later?”

“I’m guessing you’re not annoyed by me anymore,” an eye twinkle peeks at the edge of his canvas. Her thinks a remnant of annoyance will forever be at the back of her head for him. “How did you learn how to paint like that anyways?” he asks.

“I was just kinda born with it and I guess I honed it over the years. It’s weird though, I’m the only one in my family who was born with this trait,”

“Is that so?” he raises an eyebrow at me, “What’s your family like then?”

Feeling a little bit more at ease with modeling for Taehyung, she tells him about herself as he paints and listens. She tells him about her childhood in the countryside of Arles and how she’s loved painting ever since she saw her first Van Gogh. Living in his hometown only fed her love for his works. She’s visited almost every site that he has painted-- that’s how much she loves painting. She tells him about the family business and how she’s expected to help design the furniture after graduation. She also discloses how her parents are “perfect people,” always accomplishing something they’ve started, and that it scares her to defy them, not arising to their expectations -- not being able to be perfect like them.

“Oh! So you have a job after graduation! Lucky you! You won’t be the usual starving artist,” Taehyung says.

“That’s not the point...” she sadly chuckles. “I could not fathom to tell them ‘no, it’s not what I want to do.’ It’s more of my passion to major in Fine Arts rather than, eck…Interior Design. I don’t want to be some Ikea hack that mass produces furniture that I know will eventually ruin the little bit of artistry in me. And you know how by the end of this semester we have to declare our concentration and…I don’t know what I should do! I can’t even be creative enough to even think of cool designs! I’m not creative at all! I don’t even know what to do for my own painting project which my professor wants me avoiding doing still lifes!

“How ironic. This is the first time I’ve seen an artist complain about a job offer and not being able to starve,” he teases and she gives him a murderous glare at him. “I’m only kidding! I’m sure you’re going to figure it out somehow…Come to think of it, is this the reason why you always go to the Panthéon? Every time I see you there, you always look so frustrated...and lost,”

“As a matter of fact..yeah. Whenever I feel stressed or trapped about my parents’ plans or school, I go to there...”

“But why there of all places? It’s so boring there!”

“I-I never really told anyone this but since you asked…I feel mmm…most inspired when I go there. You know how you have your own corner to wind down? Well for me that’s the Panthéon. The people buried there lead lives that sought after new things. They… thought for themselves instead of what others wanted them to think and it manifested in good ways – nice artworks, smart discoveries, beautiful literature, new ways of governing-…aaand I don’t have the same courage that they had in pursuing the things they want. Sometimes I wish their courage somehow miraculously transfers to me when I rub their statues. Kind of like how people rub their heads against their books before a test hoping it would just transfer to their brains,”

Taehyung laughs so much he had to stop painting.

“Hahaha, wow. I didn’t know you could be funny,” he looks at her with a big smile as he shakes his head, “You know you got some really high hopes there, wanting to be as big as them,”

Her stops holding the position of her body and lays flat on the couch, giving a threatening expression at the same time. “High hopes BUUUT very reflective and ambitious!” Her goes back to holding her body to how it was.

“Phew! Are you utterly sensitive,” he goes back to painting.

“Well, what about you? You haven’t exactly said anything about yourself since we came here.”

“Me? Oh you don’t want to know my story. I assure you it’s not up to par with your perfect life.”

“Try me.”

“No…no, Her. I don’t really want to say.”

“Come on! You just judged me after saying something somewhat vulnerable and now you’re not going to tell me about yourself? Where’s the justice in that?”

He thinks a moment about submitting as he chews his bottom lip and he furrows his eyebrows at her. Then, he smiles his iconic mischievous smile.

“If you really wanna know, then let’s make this interesting. Let’s play a game,”

Well. I shouldn’t be surprised. His playful self is showing again but this time, I think he just found a way to let it out to its fullest potential.

“Two truths and a lie. I’ll tell you three statements. Two statements are wrong and one is true. Your job is to say which one is true,”

“That’s not fair. I just told you things without a game,”

“I would’ve played your game if you offered,”

“Fine,” Trying to find out more about him the whole day, Her is eager to finally get some answers.

“Mmmmmm…ok…let’s start out easy,” he continues painting as he thinks of some statements.

“One: I have a dishwasher. Two: I like the color blue. Three: I don’t work at the Panthéon.”

“Really…?”

“I did say we’re starting out easy.”

Three is definitely wrong. Everybody on campus has a dishwasher. It’s definitely two.

“Two.”

“Correct! Ultramarine to be precise,” he picks up the French Ultramarine blue, squirts the tube of oil paint on his palette, and molds the paint against it with a palette knife. “That’s why I like your dress,” he says as he puts his forefingers and thumbs up in a shape of a box, putting Her in frame as he shoots one eye at her.

“T-Thanks?” Again, she’s at lost for words.

“Her,”

“What?”

“I said don’t stop looking at me, sweet cheeks,”

“I-I didn’t,” she said as she looks back in his direction, trying to maintain her eye contact through the box he formed with his fingers. Her finds it more and more difficult to stay in eye contact when he keeps toying with her.

“Something a little harder this time…mmmm….ah! One: PCA gave me a scholarship to go here, Two: I lived in the streets since I was 15. Three: I’ve lost 500 grand at a hand of poker.”

He doesn’t seem like he lived in the streets since he was 15. I don’t think anybody our age has that kind of money?

“One?”

“So you really do think I’m smart, huh? You weren’t kidding haha,” he chuckles that his hair gets caught in his eyes and he brushes it out with his arm. A streak of paint washes over his forehead. “Sorry to disappoint, I appreciate it, but no,”

“So which one is right?”

“I’ve lived in the streets since I was 15.”

“You…you did? You don’t look it.” Although, what Her really wants to ask is ‘where are his parents?’ However, she thought it might be too sensitive to ask.

“Of course not. Living in the streets taught you how to blend in,”

“So…is that how you’re so good at hiding and being stealthy? Like when we were at the Panthéon?”

“You noticed that, huh? My world required it of me,”

“How did you manage?”

“I have my ways. Yooouu…just go day to day and never expect that day to be like tomorrow. It’s not as bad as you think. In fact, I’m in debt to the streets. That’s how I found my love for art. It saved me,”

“It saved you?”

“…….One: I’ve left the country with a woman I barely knew, two times. Two: I have a black belt in martial arts. Three: I’ve been scouted to be in some commercials,”

Her detects that it seems like he doesn’t want to go into deeper topics as he ignores her last question and she decides to play along.

What kind of choices are these? One seems like he’s an indecent person. Two seems to good to be true. And three feels like just a scheme to make me acknowledge his good looks.

“So…what’s it gonna be, sweet pea?” his lips curve at one side as he looks over and waits for a response.

“…Um, one?”

“Haha…you’re right.”

“I’m right?!”

He’s really that indecent?!

“I escaped two times from some thugs I know who had a problem with my Van Goghs that it made me leave the country twice, just over the border to Spain. This Spanish girl I know who taught me how to paint helped smuggle me in for a brief time. She’s a street artist here, just over at Sacre Coeur…mi amorrr Isabella,” he says as he rolls his ‘R’s with an unexpected accent.

La Place St. Pierre et le Sacré Coeur de Montmartre by Maurice Utrillo (Year 1938).

“You’ve had a problem with selling imitations before and you’re still doing it?! And you made me help you!”

“I’m not lying when I said I just really want to learn. Plus, I got no other ways to pay tuition. I’m back to the streets if I’m not in school,”

“There must be another way, Taehyung,”

He grunts, “Y-you don’t understand, Her”

“Are you in trouble now? Should I be worried?”

“No…no. I’m not in trouble,”

She looks at him with deep skepticism and disappointment that it makes him throw his hands into the air.

“What? I’m not!”

“I’m not going to help you with your imitations if it gets you in trouble that you even have to get out of the country with some Spanish girl’s help,”

“Hmm, I do like Isabella a lot,” he raises an eyebrow and bites his lips, “she was damn alluring,” he emphasizes as he stares into the ceiling, trying to remember her image.

“Okaayy, that’s it-”

Her stops holding her body into position and sets down the champagne glass, but before she could stand up, Taehyung boxes her in with his arms on the couch. She notices that his white t-shirt is now stained with some colors of blue and yellow.

“Hey, hey, hey, slow down there. I was kiddiiiing,” he says with an assuring tone. Her almost forgot how deep and velvety his voice is until he’s in very close proximity to her again. His eyes smile and he chuckles, “You amuse me. What you taught me will always be used for good, ok?”

“No, Taehyung. It only makes you a scammer. Taking people’s money that’s not rightfully yours and it’s getting you in trouble with some god who knows what,”

“Van Gogh’s been dead for decades, sweetheart! We can copy his works and sell them! And I’ve outrun those guys a year ago!” he gestures and flicks the air.

“Ok, but you should still tell all your customers that you painted them and that they’re not original Van Goghs.”

“Ughhhh…you’re making my life difficult. Not only for this painting but my actual life,”

Her stares at him for a while with an angry expression. Her has always been an upstanding person and she was never comfortable with anything that she sees is meant to exploit others. After some time, she speaks in a stern voice.

“One: Taehyung will tell his customers his Van Gogh’s are NOT original, Two: Taehyung will run out of the country again, Three: Taehyung will go back to the streets. Which one is true?”

He squints his eyes back at her and they look at each other intensely like a gun showdown in Western films. One thing’s for sure though, Her’s not going to be docile this time.

“…ONE! ok? One! One. I’ll tell them. I’ll tell all of them, ok? Ughh, I’m going to lose a lot of money...” he exhales, “Now, can you please actually do what I say and stay still?”

“Seems like I won this game,” Her says with a smirk. She picks up the champagne again and goes back into position. She smiles at him, seemingly pleased with herself that their roles reversed. After all the times Taehyung has toyed with her, she gets her revenge. Or so she thinks.

“I can’t seem to compete with goody-two shoes,”

“You know what they sayyy, the good always conquers the bad,”

“Oh…so I’m the bad man now,”

“Eh…you’re more like a boy to me,”

All of a sudden, Her sees his tiger-like eyes darken once more. The angel in him disappears again and his emanating vibe becomes dangerous. Her realizes she triggered something in him again. She looks at him a little frightened, trying to hide her feelings of intimidation behind her eyes. As Taehyung gets closer, she scoots back to the couch, as far as her back would let her, shifting the flow of the curtain on the couch and squishing the cat under her.

“Bad boy, huh? You do know what else they say, right?”

She finds her throat stuck as he comes closer and closer.

“They say all good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you. We’re not done with this game.”

“W-What do you mean?” she stutters and her head draws a blank.

“Do you really want to know how I survived the streets?” he eyes her down and Her could see his eyes dilate.

“H-H-ow?”

“I didn’t have anything, Her. I was penniless. No family. No place to call home. I used the only thing I had – my looks. Isabella? Yeah, she was an older woman but she found me beautiful. She used to paint me a lot whenever she first saw me in the streets when I was 18. Even though it sickens me that I have to use this face to make a living, I had no other choice. The deal was that she can paint me as long as I can sleep at her place, keep me out of the streets. And you know what happened to her paintings?”

“D-D-Did they sell?”

“She taught me a thing or two in our sessions and eventually I started helping her– giving her some ideas on how to make it better. Her paintings became more and more popular that she was able to open a small shop by Montmartre. Eventually, the street artists in Sacre Coeur were paying me to be their model and I was able to stay off the streets as long as they give me shelter. I also started making some money that’s not from thieving around. Why didn’t I just stay a stupid model, you ask?”

The Boulevard Montmartre on a Winter Morning by Camille Pisarro (Year 1897)

“But I-I I didn’t ask…” she mumbles.

“Because I found out I can use my hands, I found out I can also paint. And you’re right! Every street artist I’ve met said I’m the most creative one they’ve encountered. So…” He holds her chin with his thumb and his forefinger, “One: Taehyung is a bad boy. Two: Her will do the exact opposite of what Taehyung says…or three: Her will ask Taehyung for help for her project. Which one is true?” He looks deep into her eyes to the point that he could be reading her thoughts.

Is he serious?!

“I am far more irritated with you and my patience has grown thin,” Her swipes his hand away and pushes his chest. She sets the champagne on the carpet, takes off the turban, and throws it against his chest.

“Don’t think you can just order me around like I’m some kind of toy that you have wrapped around your little finger,” she turns her heels and walks towards the dressing screen, taking her clothes, and then taking her backpack and art box.

On her way of stomping out the door, Her sees his painting at the corner of her eye and it stops her from her tracks. The colors are intensely vibrant, splashes of blue and yellow glimmer against each other-- just like how Van Gogh paints his paintings. His brush strokes are fast and mindless without a trace of hesitance with each swipe. The golden couch flares as if its the sun on a blazing summer day and her dress glows a vibrant blue with the beads glimmering like stars from the midnight sky. The feathers from the dress are exaggerated and stretched out, looking like a cloud separating the sun from the moon at dawn or twilight. It didn’t have a realistic style to it like her paintings, but it had a Post-Impressionistic style– her favorite. She’s astounded he’s covered so much of the canvas in so little time but she notices that she was completely painted in already.

“Y-You were finished painting me this whole time?”

“My eyes…just really gobbles up that blue dress,” he whispers as he slouches down on the couch, propping his head up with his arm.

“Ah! Alors aide-moi dieu!! I’ve had ittttt,” she walks to the door to exit but Taehyung catches her with his words.

“Nuh-uh, sweet cheeks,” Taehyung says. “Take it off,”

“W-What?!”

“Take off the dress. Or did you forget it’s not yours?” he chuckles, finding her rage of fit amusing. “Come on. I had to go through great lengths to find a dress like that, and if you won’t model for me no more, I can at least give it to another girl,”

Out of spite, Her walks over to the couch, takes off the dress right then and there, and slaps it on Taehyung’s face. Taehyung curls his tongue, seemingly irritated by her behavior. Her’s outrage pushed any trace of embarrassment she might have on a normal situation apart from the current one. She then quickly swoops her body into her own casual dress as she picks her things up.

“Hm, I thought people like Isabella are the only ones who could be risqué. Turns out goody-two shoes could be too,” he mischievously smirks. Her could not believe that Taehyung still has the audacity to toy with her. He’s driven her up the wall but he’s still not content, revving the gas pedal past its speed limit.

“Taehyung, please just shut up,”

“Well if anybody asks, you’re the one who stripped,”

“Ugh! Good luck with that damn painting,”

Her continues to stomp out the door as she hears the words ‘she’ll be back’ catch up to her.

Ch. 2 fin.

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