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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 3 years

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if I can never give you peace — two || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader // Word count (chapter): 5.8k // Genre: Mafia AU, Hybrid AU, enemies to lovers // Ao3

↳ It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

Until he comes back.

Warnings and tags (chapter): Descriptions of violence, Threats, kind of dark in general

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The car is late, you think as you smooth over the fabric of your skirt, your mouth twisted in a disapproving scowl. Annoyance is one of the few emotions that ever appear on your face, and you don’t even bother to hide it. You have only been standing there, waiting, for a few minutes, but it already disrupts your perfectly well-oiled routine. This is just one of the many changes that have come with Jungkook taking over, but it could be the one you are the least fond of.

You used to have the routine down to a T. You knew exactly when to leave your apartment so that the car would stop in front of you right as you reached the pavement. There were small hiccups every now and then — traffic, last-minute phone calls —, but most of the time, it went perfectly. You liked that. Having that kind of control, when your life had always been completely out of your hands, was comforting.

That went out the window the day you started working for Jungkook.

When the car stops in front of you, five minutes, that’s three-hundred seconds, after the agreed-upon time, you take a short breath before opening the door and stepping in.

There, of course, is your new boss, sitting with his legs widely spread on the leather seat. He changed your discreet sedan for a limousine, which you find obnoxious, but you didn’t protest. You liked to think that you were better than that at picking your battles

“Mr. Jeon,” you say with a nod, voice even.

Jungkook grins when you call him that. You know he enjoys the title, the power it indicates, particularly since hybrids are supposed to only ever have the same last name as their owners.

“Lot of work to be done today,” he comments, and you know he’s just saying that to rile you up. You used to report to Mr. X, but you worked on your own more often than not. Now, you’re basically Jungkook’s glorified secretary. You wouldn’t particularly mind the change if it didn’t mean that you had to sit and watch him superbly ignore your carefully crafted schedule, as he had every single day for the past week.

“Indeed,” you reply without batting an eyelid. “This morning, you have a meeting with Suga,” this one he should go to, he never misses them, “then you are supposed to eat with Fred Lucas,” chances were he wouldn’t show up to that and make you take him to a fancy restaurant instead, and you would be the one to have to handle the situation with him, “and later today I think it would be important for you to pay a visit to the Mystery Room.” That place was one of the few legal aspects of the business at the moment, if you ignore the drugs that get sold there, and it was not a location you should lose right now. “They have been quite… difficult, since the change in direction.”

That last one is new, and you’re not sure how Jungkook will react to it. Of course, there is plenty more work to do, but you’re trying out new methods to get him to do at least what really matters. You don’t understand why he would hire you if he doesn’t let you do your job, but hey, at least you’re alive. And so is your family.

You don’t know how long that will last, though. Unless Jungkook seriously gets his act together, it won’t take long for someone to think that they can do the same thing he did, and have him murdered. You’re even mildly surprised it hasn’t happened yet. That’s the thing, when a leader gets killed. It weakens the whole structure, and it gives people ideas.

The grin disappears from Jungkook’s face and he nods gravely at that last piece of information. That catches your eye, because it’s new. You tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, he spent the last week riding the high of his victory against Mr. X, and that he will be efficient if there’s trouble, at least.

“Cancel that second thing,” he says. “I want to eat at that restaurant I went to last week. You should get me a reservation there.”

Or not.

“But you can go meet him,” he adds, and you blink.

“Mr. Lucas is expecting to see you,” you say, in case you weren’t clear.

“And he doesn’t get to demand my presence like that,” Jungkook snaps. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from wincing. His voice sounds harsh, cutting. Dangerous. “Did he think that I’d go ask for treats because a human joined us? That’s not how that shit works.”

Okay. He’s not wrong here, but you don’t know about this— approachto the situation. Fred is, indeed, one of the two human leaders who decided to immediately join Jungkook when the news of the death of Mr. X and the uprising of hybrids in various parts of your branches in the city spread. You wouldn’t be surprised if he expected a treatment of favor for that, too, but you’re not sure letting him know how little his gesture was appreciated was the way to go.

“I don’t think—”

“He’s replaceable,” Jungkook says with a dismissive movement of the wrist. “I’ll swap him for one of my men the second he makes a mistake. It would be a lot better if no one forgot that.”

The look he gives you makes his message crystal clear. You feel your mouth getting dry, but you know nothing is showing in your expression, and that at least is a relief.

“I’ll go to the meeting and get you your reservation, then,” you say, pulling out your phone. “Does the rest of the schedule work for you?”

Jungkook frowns, and the tiniest feeling of satisfaction spreads in your chest. You know he’s just applying pressure and waiting for you to crack, but you won’t.You’re used to contorting yourself to please everyone. You’ve made it work for years, and it will take much more than those childish games for you to snap.

Or, at least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the past week.

“Fine.” Then he closes his eyes and leans back in the seat. You raise an eyebrow at the sight. You know it’s not because he trusts you, but because he doesn’t think you have the guts to do anything to him — and because, even if you did, he’s pretty confident he wouldn’t have any trouble stopping you. You hate that you find something endearing in that vision. Jungkook was genetically designed to be handsome, and he is.More than that, though, when you look at him right now, even though his long bunny ears are skillfully hidden under a headband, he looks cute.

And he could — and would — take less than a second to snap your neck.

“This afternoon should be fun at least,” he mumbles under his breath, and you hide your grimace.

Shit. That can’t be good.

It’s been clear to you from the very first day that Suga knows exactly what he is doing. It’s also been clear that this isn’t his scene. Being at the forefront of operations, taking the lead — it’s obvious that he would much rather stay in the shadows. You’re not sure how important he was to Jungkook’s organization before, since no one has bothered trying to inform you of that, but you suspect that he’s usually more the type to be in the field.

Right now, though, he’s standing in front of a small group, exposing what the recent developments have been. Sitting behind Jungkook, you listen to him attentively. Those reunions should become less frequent, but right now things could still change completely, and you cannot afford to be taken by surprise.

You are, however, starting to feel less and less comfortable with the fact that nothing seems to be coming out of them. Sure, Yoongi informs you of the people who have sided with Jungkook and of those who are openly opposed to him — a minority, so far — but there is a large group in between that seems to be in no hurry to take position. And you don’t like it.

It hasn’t been long since Jungkook has taken over, but you should at least have gotten someintel by now. You’re not sure what isn’t working here. For now, you don’t want to risk provoking anyone by offering your services. Worry is starting to gnaw at you, though. You could all be driving into a dead-end street at full speed, and that stupid struggle you’re having with Jungkook just isn't worth dying over.

“So not much has changed,” Jungkook comments, tapping his fingers onto the table. He looks nonchalant, but you notice a muscle in his jaw twitching. You wonder if he understands more than he lets on.

“Things have been stagnant,” Yoongi admits without batting an eye. “There hasn’t been any open rebellion, but communication is lacking.”

“That needs to get better.”

“We’re working on it.”

They probably are, but it doesn’t look like that’s going well. Word has reached your ears that some of the branches have been keeping hybrids at bay as discreetly as possible.

“What about that Mystery Room thing?” Jungkook asks, frowning. “What’s going on over there?”

“The what?” Yoongi frowns.

Jungkook looks puzzled — pissed, actually — for a second, then glances at you over his shoulder, and the attention of the whole room suddenly shifts to you. You straighten your back, swallow.

“The owner of the bar has missed a payment to us,” you state calmly, “and it seems that he has no intention of making it and is trying to get out of his contract with us. It would be better if we didn’t lose it right now.”

“What do you mean, ‘it seems’?” Yoongi asks, narrowing his golden eyes at you. His voice sounds more like a hiss, and this time, you struggle to hide your reaction. You haven’t forgotten what it felt like, when you thought he was going to kill you. It’s affected you more than you’d like to admit.

“I have a contact who—”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, and you close your mouth.

“I’m going there today,” Jungkook informs him, and Yoongi nods.

“I’ll be around.”

The two men have a silent exchange of looks. Their relationship is somewhat atypical, not something Mr. X had with anyone. It looks like they genuinely rely on and trust each other. You suppose someone else would find it touching, but you don’t have it in yourself. Especially not when that means they both have it out for you.

“Haven’t you been following what we’ve been talking about here for the past week?” Jungkook snarks at you, and you blink. “Any information you get from now on needs to get to Suga so he can factor it in.” At that, you give him a disbelieving look. That just won’t work. It can’t. Not for the first time, you wonder how much he underestimates you, exactly. If he knew anything about the way you work, about how many contacts you have and how much information you’re usually juggling with, he would never ask that of you.

Yet you nod. You don’t know yet if you’ll send a believable amount of intel to Suga, or just absolutely drown him under it until they tell you to stop, but once more, this just isn’t worth fighting over.

Especially when fighting over something can so easily mean dying over it, in your current situation.

“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”

He looks displeased, and you know it’s because all he’s waiting for is for you to slip.

“I shouldn’t even bring you to these meetings. You’re not even taking any notes. That’s fucking useless.”

It takes everything in you to bite back a scoff at that. You could tell him you don’t need to take notes when Yoongi is talking about minimal changes in a landscape you know on the tip of your fingers, that maybe you would if he said anything of value, and that this wouldn’t be an issue if people actually feared him.

You marvel at how annoyed that quip makes you. You suppose you don’t like it when your competence is questioned. You don’t like the threat either, though. You don’t want to risk falling out of the loop.

“I’ve gotten you a reservation at that restaurant,” you say. “If things are done here, I’ll be on my way to meet Mr. Lucas.”

Changing the subject. Deflecting. Trying your best to live to see another day. It seems like it’s all you’ve been doing for the past week. You know you can keep it up for a long time, you’re patient enough. You also know that this game is set up to make you lose.

Right now, as Jungkook looks at you, clearly not amused by your attitude, there is a terrifying moment during which you fear that he might just drop the charade. The only point of this whole thing is to get rid of you. He could decide he only wants to do that any second.

“Yeah, right. Be on your way.”

He dismisses you like you’re some low lackey, but that, at least, isn’t anything new, and you know how to handle it. You bow politely, then exit the room.

“You really wanna keep her around?” Yoongi asks once you’re gone, and Jungkook groans.

He doesn’t know why he had expected you to break easily. He’d seen you work for Mr. X, do that same shit he makes you do and survive as long as you had, so he should have known you’d be good at it. He supposes he’d been used to you making decisions for him, back then, and had thought that was a normal thing for you, that you wouldn’t enjoy being in the position of taking orders. But you were, after all, just someone who worked for others that whole time.

Not that he gives a fuck about it. He couldn’t care less why you did the things you did. All he wants is to give you a taste of your own medicine. Dangling a false chance of survival in front of your eyes and let you handle the rest yourself. So as long as you push through… well. He’ll let it slide.

It’s not like you can keep doing it forever anyway.

Fred Lucas worries you. He’s always smiled too widely, been too loud, made too many jokes. You know Mr. X considered him to be some sort of buffoon, but also kept his distance from him. Mr. X didn’t like people who pretended to wear their hearts on their sleeves.

“Always a pleasure to see you, (Y/N),” he greets you warmly when you walk up to him and you give him a nod. If he’s upset that Jungkook isn’t there, he doesn’t show it, just like you don’t show your distaste for his use of your first name. “I’d like to discuss with just you, though,” he adds, eyeing Hector, who’s standing beside you. The fact that you still have him by your side is the only good thing that has come from working for Jungkook so far.

You don’t like that. You’re all too aware of the fact that this is his land, and that the only reason why he’s saying that is that Hector is a hybrid. If that gets back to Jungkook, it wouldn’t be good for Fred — but you don’t think he’ll go down without a fight. You glance at Hector, who looks as placid as always and offers no help. The gears in your head are turning fast. Before, you were protected by how indispensable you were considered by Mr. X. That is clearly not the case anymore, but Fred likely isn’t aware of that. Yet.

On the other hand, sending Hector away would show weakness, and you can’t afford that.

“Hector goes where I go,” you say.

Fred’s smile widens even more.

“Of course, of course, can’t trust anyone those days, can you?”

You wonder if it’s a jab at you and how quickly you changed sides, but he is more or less in the same position, so you could just be paranoid.

“Come on, come on in, let’s get ourselves a drink.”

You don’t want a drink, but you do follow him in. The sooner you do that, the sooner you will be out of here.

Fred has a lot of things to say. Most of it isn’t relevant to anything that is happening right now, but you’ve never been able to tune things out. You always worry you’ll miss an essential piece of information. So you listen as he babbles about his business — getting weapons in and out of the city, something he is decently good at — but also about his family, his friendships, and his favorite kind of alcohol. You let him pour you a glass, even if you have no intention of touching it.

“I hear you,” you manage to interrupt him, “but I am curious to know why you wanted a meeting with Mr. Jeon. It seems to me that you have the situation here under control.”

Flattery has always worked on Fred, and you have no issue in using that against him.

“Of course we do,” he gloats. “It’s just— There are a lot of rumorsfloating around those days, you know?”

You do know. You suspect Fred has heard the same things as you. You also suspect most people have been very careful not to let those things reach Yoongi’s ears.

“People are talking about a ‘human opposition’ forming,” Fred gasps dramatically. “Can you believe it? Some people are really not happy about being led by a hybrid.”

That seems to be more concrete than what you’ve heard, which means that Fred could be exaggerating things… or that he was contacted to join that opposition. And you don’t like that second possibility, not at all. You trust Fred about as far as you can throw him, and that means you certainly don’t trust him to not try and play both sides.

“That was to be expected,” you reply calmly. “I do not doubt that Mr. Jeon knew such a reaction was coming.”

Fred narrows his eyes at you, trying to gauge what you knew then and what you know now. Which isn’t much, but that’s not something you plan to let slip out.

“Do you know of anything specific?”

You see from the glint in Fred’s eyes that he knows the game is on. If you know something and he doesn’t tell you, he will look suspicious, but he could also reveal too much, and you doubt he wants to play his cards so soon.

“I— don’t, unfortunately,” he finally says, and you nod. Either he hasn’t heard of the Mystery Room, or he is voluntarily hiding it from you. Regardless, that limits how useful he is to you. “But the word on the street is that Jungkook may not know what he’s doing all that well.”

You send him a sharp glance. He’s taking a risk in telling you that, you both know it. That doesn’t make the information any less precious.

“I see. And, again, I don’t suppose you know where this— ‘word on the street’ is coming from?”

He shrugs, a true picture of innocence, and maybe you’d have believed it if Fred hadn’t been in the business for longer than you. He knew, he just wasn’t telling because he wanted to preserve his opportunities if something happened.

“I have to go, then. Thank you for the drink, Mr. Lucas.”

“Please,” he says, holding out his hand. “Call me Fred.”

That won’t be happening.

“Goodbye, Mr. Lucas.”

Once you’re out, you take a second to collect yourself, Hector following like a shadow and waiting for you silently.

“Is everything okay?” he asks after you’ve mulled over the conversation that just happened for several minutes.

“It’s fine,” you say as a reflex. You couldn’t stop thinking about how Fred had taken a gamble when he’d proclaimed his allegiance to Jungkook. He’d bet on him coming out on top, and yet you didn’t trust it. You couldn’t think of a reason why he would do that instead of carefully waiting to see how things would go, like everyone else. You didn’t like this. Not one bit. “We need to get to Mystery Room,” you add.

“Of course,” Hector nods, gesturing towards the limo, and you don’t bother repressing a groan this time.

“God. That’s so tacky.”

That brings a smile to Hector’s lips, but you don’t smile back. You never do. Instead, you climb in, roll your eyes at the whole thing, and let yourself be driven away. You can’t come to a conclusion about Fred Lucas just yet, but you have no intention of forgetting about him either.

It takes you a few seconds, once you’re out of the car, to understand that something isn’t right. You’ve never been good with feelings — instincts, as hybrids call them — and the air doesn’t feel particularly tense or charged to you. Hector stands a little close to you for comfort, and you piece things together from there. There are a few cars around, but not too many, which isn’t surprising considering it’s the middle of the afternoon. Still, you can hear voices from inside, and you know there’s an argument going on there.

“Let’s go,” you say with a decided nod, and Hector leads the way, shoulders tense, ready to pounce if needed. You trust him to do his job, and that’s a lot, coming from you.

You frown when you walk into the bar, taking a few seconds to let your eyes get adjusted to the lack of luminosity, and that frown only deepens when you hear the argument going on and recognize Jungkook’s voice. God. The concepts of subtlety and discretion are completely lost on him, aren’t they?

Making your way through the room, you try to evaluate the situation. Yoongi is leaning against a table, looking bored out of his mind, though you’re sure he doesn’t miss anything from what is going on in the room. As if to prove your point, his golden eyes flick towards you for a second when you approach, before looking away, clearly uninterested. Other than him, it seems that the only other people present are the owner and various employees. You think it’s stupid and dangerous that they showed up here basically alone but, for the millionth time today, you grit your teeth and don’t say anything.

There are five men around, including the bouncer and a security guard. They’re probably armed, and that’s to say nothing of anyone you cannot see. Outside of Yoongi, though, no one pays attention to you, not until the bartender asks loudly “Mojito, as usual, Miss (L/N)?”

It’s a bit early for that, actually, but you give him a nod. The Mystery Room isn’t quite your scene — you’ve always been one to prefer classy restaurants — but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re well-known here, and everywhere, actually, which is something that everyoneknows, except your own boss. That is obvious by the way people’s attitude shifts when they see you. The owner bows to you politely. You acknowledge it with a curt movement of your chin. Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. He doesn’t look happy about it.

You wait until you have your glass in your hand to say something. The silence that fills the room is heavy, and you can feel Jungkook’s anger emanating from him, having lost the men’s attention. He’s the man who murdered Mr. X, took over half of his operations without anyone noticing, and their fucking boss, and they’re still treating him like a low-life hybrid.

“You haven’t been paying what you owe us,” you say, almost lightly, when you get your drink. “Has business been slow?”

You know it has. You know people aren’t too sure what to think of Jungkook yet. You also know they’ve still made money. Better yet, you’re sure the men in the room know youknow that. You’re giving them an obvious way out. All they have to do is say “yes”, and you’ll come up with something. You won’t let them go off scot-free, but there’s no need for this to end in a bloodbath, either.

“That’s not the issue,” the man says, voice raspy, and you don’t let it show, of course you don’t, but you’re still taking the hit. They’re underestimating Jungkook.

This might be the last mistake they make.

“I think it would be better for everyone if we could work through whatever issue there is,” you say slowly.

Better for them, really, especially because this is you giving him a second chance. There won’t be a third one.

“I’m afraid we don’t, uh, approve of the recent change in direction,” he replies, a stupid grin on his face. He’s mocking you and your infamous overly procedural speech. You know people say you can’t accept who you’re working for, that you can’t take the idea of having blood on your hands.

You may not care, but you’re well-aware of it, and you really don’t appreciate him saying that to your face. You’ll have to make an example out of him.

You sigh and shake your head at his answer. You’re not going to enjoy this. You’ve seen people’s attempts at rebellion against Mr. X, even if those were few and far between, and no matter how much of a fight they put up, it never ends well. For them.

You’re prepared to just leave the place and arrange for it to be set on fire during the night, when Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of it.

“What’s your problem with the change in direction, fucker?”

The mood changes immediately. Hector’s hand on your shoulder gently pulls you back, and Yoongi hops off the table to come stand next to Jungkook, hands in his pockets. He looks nonchalant and relaxed. He could probably easily kill everyone in this room and not get a drop of blood on his jacket.

The owner squares his shoulders and walks up to him. He’s slightly taller and much larger than Jungkook.

“Listen, bunny…”

You barely have the time to widen your eyes at the word, to think about all the ways Jungkook has made it clear that he’s not your typical rabbit-hybrid before his right hook connects with the man’s jaw, so fast you would have missed it if you’d blinked.

A moment of stunned silence follows, during which the man stumbles backwards, hand coming to cup his face in disbelief. And then, he seems to decide that it’s a good idea to retaliate. The dozens, hundreds maybe, of fights you’ve seen Jungkook win flash before your eyes. He doesn’t stand a chance.

People start moving around you, but it seems like it’s only a fistfight. No guns are drawn, for now, and you’re reminded of how much you fucking hate watching people fight. You take a step back, bored already at this stupid display of strength and violence. Still, you can’t help it when your eyes are drawn to Jungkook. There’s a— curiosity within you. How much has he truly changed, in the past two years?

For one, he certainly isn’t pretending this time, isn’t trying to make this fight last for a few more rounds. There iscertain showmanship there, though, you note. He’s giving time for the owner to recover while he takes out some of the other men with hits of surgical precision. He wants them to seewhatever he’s going to do to their boss. Hector and Yoongi keep the fight contained, don’t let anyone escape or call for help, but Jungkook doesn’t need their help. No one here is a threat to him, and it doesn’t take long for the men to be on the floor, groaning in pain.

The owner pushes himself up, spits some blood on the floor. Jungkook turns to face him and beckons him closer with a flick of his hand. He looks amused.

“You fucking piece of—”

This time, Jungkook doesn’t go for the head. His fist gets the man in the ribs, and that first punch is followed by dozens of others, not giving the man any respite, not letting him breathe. When the man falls back, Jungkook doesn’t stop, though the hits slow down, based on what you can see and hear. You have to clench your jaw to stop yourself from grimacing at the sound of flesh hitting flesh, of the bones underneath clashing. It was drowned out, back when he fought in a ring, but knowing it was there disgusted you back. You don’t know why, you just hate it. It makes you sick.

When Jungkook finally gets back up, he hasn’t even broken a sweat. There are five men on the ground, clenching different parts of their bodies and crying out in pain, and he isn’t even out of breath.

“You should fucking reconsider,” he spits out.

They won’t have to. This place will be gone soon enough.

His eyes meet yours as he walks out, and his expression turns to a disgusted scowl. It almost draws a scoff out of you, but you hold it in, and instead, you follow him dutifully.

Jungkook doesn’t speak to you in the car, eyes instead on his bloody knuckles. It will heal fast, you know, and that’s probably why he doesn’t bother taking care of it. When the car stops, you look outside and find yourself faced with your own apartment building. It’s not even five in the afternoon yet. You turn around to give your boss a quizzical look.

“You’re not needed anymore,” he shrugs. He doesn’t sound like he’s playing this time, though you’re still sure that he wants to get on your nerves.

You hate that it’s working this time.

“The day isn’t—”

“I think you’ve proved exactly how efficient you are today,” he says, obviously dismissing you. “I have no fucking idea how you got this job.”

You bite your tongue not to reply. You don’t care about the job, you don’t care about his opinion of you, you barely even care about the Family. You should just nod, give him the usual “yes, Mr. Jeon,” and walk out. But something keeps you in place a little longer than it should, and that’s how much you hate jobs that aren’t well done.

Your voice sounds distant to your own ears when you say what you’re supposed to, your body doesn’t feel like your own when you walk out and close the door. Your breathing quickens while you hear the car leave behind you like it’s all happening in a dream, your head spins, and you stand frozen in place, staring right in front of you.

Is this your life now? you wonder, feeling your heart thumping like it’s trying to get out of your chest. Are you going to let yourself be so disposable, so mediocre, let everything you’ve spent years building fall apart? This isn’t the time for pride, you’re well aware of that, but it’s still eating at you inside.

You walk back to your apartment like you’re in a trance. There’s a heavy weight on your chest, and you realize you have to make a choice. If things stay like that, you suppose Jungkook will have your head at some point. This is a fight of patience. One you cannot win. But if you make yourself indispensable, then maybe, maybe you can survive it. You’ve done it once already.

You brush aside the little voice mocking your reasoning, telling you that you’re doing this because you don’t want to lose your status. Not because it’s wrong, but because you know that’s not enough of an incentive for you to take a risk. You need something stronger than that. Even if you know it’s a lie.

That doesn’t stop your hand from trembling as you dial Yoongi’s number. You’re happy there’s no one to see you, because God, you couldn’t take your carefully crafted facade crumbling right now.

“Yes?” he answers quickly. If he’s surprised to hear from you, it doesn’t show.

“What are the plans for the Mystery Room?” you ask, satisfied that your voice doesn’t quiver, even if you’re a mess right now.

There’s a silence at the other end of the line, and you suspect he’s considering not answering you, so you take the initiative.

“You need to at least replace the owner,” you say, kicking off your shoes. “You can convince him to sell to us,” — convince, one of your favorite euphemisms — “or get rid of him and get the place from his family. Burning the place down is also an option. We can’t let what happened slide like that.”

“Hmm,” Yoongi says.

“Also, it would better if Mr. Jeon could avoid fighting with people. The last thing we want is people who think they can challenge him.”

“He can take them.”

“That’s not the issue. If people think they have a chance, they’ll keep trying. We don’t want them to do that.”

Another, longer silence.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because he’ll listen to you.”

“And you think I will listen to you?”

You roll your eyes. It’s strange, you know you’re gambling your life right now, but the tension you were experiencing earlier has been replaced by an eerie calm. You feel detached from everything.

Maybe you’ve been doing this for too long.

“You don’t have to,” you say, “but this is my job. I’m good at it. If you just let me do it, it would be far more efficient than whatever has been going on for the last week. I know you don’t trust me, but you can probably come to the same conclusions as me in this situation at least.”

Your heart is hammering in your chest. This is an explicit critique, something you would never have risked with Mr. X, and it’s the most open act of defiance that you’ve ever done — and it’s to convince them to let you workfor them.

“We’ll see about that,” he replies dismissively, and your shoulders fall at first, but then he adds, almost reluctantly, “I’ll take what you said into consideration.”

“Good. We also need to talk about tomorrow’s meeting. I’ve gotten some important information about the opposition to Mr. Jeon, and I think—”

As you explain the situation to Yoongi, you feel yourself calming down. Maybe it’s because you’re doing something that’s familiar to you, you’re not sure, but you can breathe again, and that solidifies your conviction that you’re making the right decision.

Finally, you’re ready to take back your life.

Tag list: @chaiwivluv @mintyrae @btswdwsmhrdt @xxquenwxtchxx @fekitza @kimmieloveswho @deeepvibes @lonleycoffee @gookiebts @kpop-baka @taecallsmenoona @mimiinluv @dabbingangels @jooahchu

#jungkook x reader #bts #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook #jeon jungkook #hybrid jungkook #bts mafia au #bts hybrid au #candywrites #if i can never give you peace

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girlmeetsliv3 · 4 years

Text

Lilies of the Valley I

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower’s shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

Chapter One: Hatred & Pride

“Lilies are considered a beautiful, popular flower but the orange variations actually symbolize hatred, pride, and disdain.”

Release Date: 05/18/20 @ 7 pm

YN stumbled haphazardly into her apartment, as she tried to kick off heels and steer her way into her apartment's small bathroom. In her hand lay a crumpled up business card that scorched her skin, yet she couldn't let go of it. As she reached the bathroom, she flickered the yellow lighting on and stared at herself in the dirty mirror. Mascara and eyeliner were smudged making her resemble a panda, a frown etched between her brows, and colored lips turned downward. It was not her wretched appearance that had her sorrowful, but rather the bite that was visible right where her neck met her shoulder. It looked fresh, harsh red marks that displayed to the world that she was taken. "What a fucking lie."

She took off her makeup and jumped into the shower scrubbing off every trace she could of the alpha. Not wanting his scent permeating on her body any longer, then it would truly prove people's perception of her to be true. A small ding as she was exiting the shower alerted her towards her phone.

Mark Lee: Sorry about how I acted. I just don't understand, but I don't think we should see each other anymore.

"Great," YN grumbled. There went another one that she'd managed to drive away. It would be a lot easier if she could simply date someone like her - not that it would ever be allowed. Still, there would be less judgment and she wouldn't have to feel like a let down to society or her family every time a holiday passed and she failed to present with a mate. "Fuck society." Though truly it was more like fuck Jeon Jungkook. None of this would've happened if it weren't for the alpha and his hormones. Truly none of this would've happened if his mates kept a tighter grip on the newly presenting alpha, but she couldn't blame the others for his mistake.

On second thought, fuck them all. Why the fuck are sub-genders a thing anyway? This wasn't the first time said thoughts had filled her head. Presenting as an Omega in a family full of beta's had been difficult, not to mention the events that followed afterward. YN dragged her feet into her bed, thankful for once that she lived in such a small apartment that things were never so far apart. Though her current apartment was about the size of the kitchen in her parent's home, she couldn't complain. Few people rented unmated omegas. She was lucky that her landladies were two female betas with small children. YN doesn’t have anything against alphas but she’s aware enough to know how they perceive her: a means to an end rather than a human being. Or half of one at the very least.

Her cell phone screen lit up again, but YN was far too tired to check it. Until it stayed on as a plethora of messages appeared. Rolling her eyes, YN grabbed her phone and unlocked it planning to send to hell whoever sent so many messages this late at night.

Unknown: Please consider it.

Unknown: I know you blame me for a lot of things and it is my fault, but I’d like to fix things.

Unknown: or help at the very least.

Unknown: Please just answer me.

Unknown: I’m very sorry. You know I am. It was a mistake, I was presenting and couldn’t control myself. Please YN.

Unknown: You’re my mate.

YN slammed her phone down on her bed with tears in her eyes. She regretted ever going on the date tonight, regretted ever meeting Jungkook, regretted presenting as an Omega. YN regretted being alive. She knew others felt the same way, she'd seen the look in her father's eyes when he had gone to the police station. None of this would've ever happened if she were a beta. YN would be able to get a good education, a good job, a decent place to live. She wouldn't be treated like a third-class citizen because of her sub-gender - she would just be YN. The way she'd been in school before all this happened. The way she spent seventeen years of her life living. Sobs racked throughout her body and she bit into her arm to keep the sound from reaching her neighbors. She didn't want to get into any more trouble tonight.

Exhaustion eventually won over and YN slipped into a restless sleep, plagued by the events of her past and the ones that occurred a few hours earlier.

“So there was nothing you did in high school? No clubs or anything like that?”

YN shook her head, shrugging slightly. "I helped some teachers, dabbled in a couple of things but wasn't like the head cheerleader or class president." Tentatively she reached for her drink, making sure Mark didn't notice her smelling it for anything. It wasn't that he wasn't nice, but one could never be too careful. Mark laughed, "Alright you got me there, but I'll let you know the only reason I became class president is that I promised I'd get us a pool."

“How did that work out?”

“Terrible. The school was convinced our stupid asses would drown or something. Can’t say it wasn’t true.”

YN giggled, taking another bite of her food. Mark was cute and he seemed aware of things, enough to not try too hard. He hadn’t asked to pick her up or asked about exes, he’d agreed to meet at the restaurant and even arrived early. Then again it might also be because they have a friend in between and it was Rosé who’d set them up together. “So YN what school did you go to?” Mark leaned forward resting his face in his hands. The warm lighting in the restaurant cast a nice glow on his features, it made him look more attractive. Or perhaps the alcohol had finally set in.

“I went to Yeong-gwang Academy.” As soon as YN uttered the name Mark’s eyes widened exponentially. “No way, I’ve heard about that school. Isn’t it like a rich kid central or something? Wait didn’t you go to school with the Kims?!” It was an involuntary reaction the way she shivered whenever she heard that name, but her date must not have noticed. He stood waiting for her confirmation and all it took was a curt nod, for the man to begin rambling about all the rumors he’d heard over the years. It was difficult to keep up with them all, but she did manage to correct a few.

“Haven’t you guys been ranked number one school in Korea for like thirty years or something?”

“I think it’s only twenty.”

“I heard all your sports teams are national champions.”

“We only really had like five or so.”

“Don’t you have the largest private collection of flowers in Asia?!”

“Um, it’s Lilies and I think that’s an exaggeration.”

On and on it went, YN was now beginning to regret opening her mouth. She'd heard of Academy fans before, but it was mainly people who wanted to go there and couldn't or alumni. The way Mark spoke about it made her seem like she was an olympiad or a part of history. The date was drawing to an end, YN couldn't help but feel disappointed but it could have gone worse. Mark could have seen her mark and it would've caused conflict, hearing the boy ramble about her school was the lesser of the two evils.

It was when YN lifted her drink to her lips that she sensed it. A hint of musk and the smell of fresh linen, she couldn’t explain how she knew it was him. It was almost instinctual the fear that spread throughout her. As discreetly as she could, YN cast a glance around the room trying to find him almost exhaling with relief when she didn’t. It’s probably a mistake.

“Hey isn’t that Kim Jungkook right there?”

It was said a little too loudly, just enough that YN knew he'd heard it. It didn't take long for her to feel eyes peering at her, goosebumps rose through her arms. Her bite began to throb and YN could feel her heart skip a beat. Mark's eyes focused on him and eventually crawled up, letting her know the alpha was approaching. Now the scent hit her entirely, shaking her to her core. YN gripped the table to steady herself but found that near impossible when the alpha kept sending his pheromones at her.

"Does there seem to be a problem here?" His voice had deepened over the years, no longer the voice of a teenager but that of a man.

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean to call your name so loudly. Um, I'm Mark Lee. A pleasure to meet you." Mark turned his attention towards YN expecting her to acknowledge Jungkook or greet him as a classmate. YN couldn't. She couldn't look at him. It didn't help that there was a tense atmosphere between the two, the tension was palpable and it seemed Mark had enough.

“Aren’t you going to greet him, YN?”

Greet the man responsible for everything wrong in my life, sure. Yn’s eyes trailed upwards from the table to Jungkook’s face until her warm eyes met his golden ones. As YN parted her lips to speak, she felt it: the heat spreading throughout her body. An uncontrollable feeling that raked throughout her body. The fucker was trying to trigger a pseudo-heat. Instantly YN’s grip tightened on the table, her fingertips becoming white as she fought with nature to keep control over herself.

“Do you two know each other?” It seems Mark was catching on and truly she couldn’t blame him if he misunderstood. She would too if the roles were reversed. Suddenly Jungkook turned to face Mark, holding his hand out to greet him.

“I’m Kim Jungkook, her mate.”

"What?! No, he isn't. Don't listen to him, Mark." Her outcry had caused quite a few patrons to turn her way, now all paying close attention to what was happening.

"Uh -" Jungkook quickly interceded whatever Mark was going to say. "Did you not notice her mark? Or do you make a habit of seeking mated people?" At this a few people gasped, Mark looked between the two of them confused. YN snapped, "It's a partial bond. It was never completed so it doesn't mean anything." Her words only confused Mark even more. Whispers from surrounding tables began to reach her ears and it only fueled YN's rage more. This was all a big misunderstanding, but Jungkook was thriving off it. Mark and YN's eyes met as she silently pleaded with him to listen to her.

"Hey beta," Jungkook snapped his fingers together, "look at me." YN should've known she'd lost then and there. As a beta, it was impossible to resist the order of alpha, not to mention one that exuded the stench that Jungkook did.

“You know who I am right?” Mark nodded, eyes wide as if aiming to please. “Then you know don’t you? You know…” When Mark looked back at her, there was sympathy in his eyes. “I’m sorry YN.” was all the beta said before standing up and walking away. YN had so many things to say, so many more explanations, but they all died in her tongue.

Jungkook tsked, “What an asshole. Could’ve at least paid for the meal.” That was the final strand for YN, she gathered her stuff and threw all the money she had down on the table. Walking fast out of the restaurant trying to avoid the judgemental stares directed towards her, she swore some people hissed at her under their breaths. Once outside YN leaned against the side entrance of the restaurant trying to steady her breath and stop the incoming tears.

"YN. Hey!" Jungkook raced out the front, staring around panicked until his gaze landed on her. YN tried to walk away, but his long legs gave him an advantage and he reached her in a few steps. "Please YN. I'm sorry, I just- I couldn't control myself." YN rolled her eyes, trying to push the alpha aside.

“No please YN look.” His hands gripped her forearms and tugged her close to him. “I’ve been trying to find you, we’ve been trying to find you. But you disappeared off the map.”

“That’s because of you. I left because of you.” YN tried to get him to release her arms, but his hold was too tight. “Wasn’t it enough for you? Isn’t it enough for you? You ruined my life and my reputation Jungkook. The least you could do is leave me alone.” She was begging at this point, trying to make him see reason.

“I can’t leave you alone, YN. You’re my mate.”

“You already have mates Jungkook. Fucking six of them! How could you want more?!”

“It isn’t like that and you know it. You’re all our mates. You're the pack omega, you just don’t see it yet.”

This wasn’t the first time Jungkook had tried to excuse his behavior by using the pack bond. Yes, it was true all seven of them shared it but that didn’t mean she did too. “Omega’s don’t have the pack bond, Jungkook. Stop trying to lie.” YN couldn’t see what he gained from this.

“I’m not lying. It’s rare but it happens, please if you just speak to Namjoon you’ll see-”

“Leave me alone Jungkook.” YN mustered all her strength and managed to finally push him off. The alpha looked shocked at her display of aggression, YN strongly desired to hit him but knew it wouldn’t end well if she triggered his instincts. “I’d rather die alone than be mated to you.” YN could see the spear driven through the boy’s heart because she felt something similar go through hers. YN let out a shaky breath, she leaned over resting on her knees for fear of falling over.

"I get it. I'm sorry, I ruined your date. I embarrassed you in front of all those people and that wasn't right. I'm sorry YN, I truly am. For everything, I've ever done to you. But it doesn't change the truth. You know this isn't something I can lie about: you are my mate. Our mate."

YN groaned and went to walk away, knowing that there wouldn't be an end to Jungkook's madness. As she walked past the shaken alpha, he grasped her hand placing something in it. "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate, please." YN didn't even spare him a look as she walked away. It wasn't until she could no longer smell him that YN broke down, her body shaking as she tried to hold it all in. She was still in a public place and a vulnerable omega might draw unwanted attention. YN took a deep breath and steadied herself. Heading straight to her apartment and refusing to look back.

A loud abrupt ringing awoke YN from her sleep, she jumped so high she practically touched the ceiling. Grabbing the phone, she saw Rosé’s contact picture pop-up on the screen. It was rare for her to call, especially since it was nearly six a.m.

“Hey.”

“YN? Oh my god.” Rosé’s tone was panicked and YN could hear the way she panted. “Someone broke into my apartment while I was sleeping.”

“What?! Are you alright?!” YN jumped out of bed and raced to put on pants and hoodie, before grabbing her keys and wallet. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the police station. I couldn’t see very clearly, but they’re looking at security cam footage from around the area to figure out who it is.”

“I’m on my way. Did you call Lucas?” Lucas was Rosé’s foster sibling, his husband worked in the police and was certain to make the whole process smoother.

Rosé hesitated, “He isn't answering. Please come, I’m here alone and I-”

“It’s alright I’ll be there soon I promise.” YN had managed to wave down a cab and told him to drive as quickly as he could.

The sight of her best friend in tears triggered something innate in YN. She pulled Rosé into a hug and refused to let her go, terrified at the thought of what could have happened to her friend. "It's alright, I'm here." Rosé dug her head into YN's neck using her scent to calm her nerves and trying to muffle her cries. Already she could feel the sympathetic stares of some of the officers. Out of the corner of her eye, YN saw someone approaching his bloodshot eyes, and the tall way in which he stood made it seem like he owned the place.

"I told you to call your mate, not your girlfriend." He remarked voice dull yet mocking. Rosé stepped away from YN turning towards him, "I don't have a mate and my brother isn't answering." Her tone was meek and eyes were downcast, YN knew she wasn't a confrontational person and this event likely further caused her to become more introverted. The cop rolled his eyes, "Where is your mate then?" He turned his attention towards YN, now she could see the name inscribed on his uniform: Officer Hwang. "I don't have one." Her tone was too blunt, YN knew she could see the way his eyebrows raised at it.

“Don’t lie to me, I can see your mark.”

“I don’t have a mate.”

Annoyance was now visible in Hwang's tone before his eyes widened. "Ah, now I get it." The officer turned back towards one of his colleagues and called out, "Bo, it seems we have a cat house on our hands." Rosé's eyes widened and YN spoke quickly, words tumbling out of her mouth. "No. You're misunderstanding." Bo had already stood up from his desk and was making his way towards them.

“Ladies if you could please follow me.”

The two of them were talking over each other trying to explain the situation, but the officers had made up their minds about what was occurring. YN cast a glance around the room trying to find anyone who could help them, but everyone kept their eyes downward. They'd been titled as prostitutes and it would be difficult to change people's minds. Officer Bo guided them, pushed would've been a better term, towards the basement where the holding cells were.

“Please sir, you’ve misunderstood.”

Officer Hwang shrugged, a cruel smirk on his face. “Call your alpha then and everything will be solved.” YN resigned herself as they were dragged downstairs and locked up.

Rosé and YN were separated in different cells while a guard stood watching. Tears streamed endlessly down her best friend's face, whilst YN told herself that hers were tears of frustration rather than humiliation at everything that had occurred tonight. Eventually, as they hit the two-hour mark the guard spoke up, "I'd call your mates if I were you. The boarding house bus swing's by at nine." Both omegas stilled in fear at his words. YN turned towards Rosé, "Ro can't you try your brother?" She was pleading with her friend, but Rosé shook her head. "He won't come." There was something she wasn't telling her, but YN figured now was not the moment to press it.

“Don’t you know someone who can help YN? What about Mark?”

Mark would be no help, considering everything that went down at the date it would be a further embarrassment to ask him to come to pick her up at the station. If he even answered that is. Unless? No, there was no way. Her pride wouldn’t be able to take it.

"Thirty minutes, girls."

It seemed as if fate was pushing her into a corner. YN had heard about what kind of things occurred to Omega's who were taken to the boarding house, it was not a nice place. It certainly didn't provide the comfort or protection that was promised to unmated troubled omegas. Hesitantly YN cleared her throat, "Can I please make a call?"

~ Please lmk if you would like to be added to the tag list. Thank you

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jaeminscoffee · 4 years

Text

The midnight man | l.ty

Pairing- Lee Taeyong x reader

Mentions- Lee Donghyuck, Na Jaemin, Liu YangYang, Nakamoto Yuta, Seo Johnny, Kim Doyoung, Ten Lee, Lee Dong Wook.

Genre- Horror!au, angst, crack, part fluff.

Warning(s)- Evil entity!Taeyong, Manipulation, Major character death (lmao you'll actually punch yourself towards the end), sexual themes suggested, impulsive decision making, talks with religion.

Word count- 11.83k

Synopsis- 'Lust though pleasurable, innocent and vice, thee shall stay loyal to thy partner regardless of wants. To betray thy partner is to deceive thy people and hence the kingdom. Thou shall pay for thy soul shall remain wandering, driven by the desires but, shall not be able to feel the human love thou took for a grain of salt. And all who shall follow thy steps shall face the same wrath.'

@kpopscape

This story is pure work of fiction and therefore doesn't speak about the mentioned members' personality in real life. I, in no manner, am trying to encourage hate speech towards the members so please don't come at me. This story was written using a mix of a bunch of urban legends and few made up by myself and therefore it isn't going to be spoken about the same way as it is in google. I also worked really hard on this piece and it's by far, the longest story I've written so feedbacks would mean a lot!, also it could get a little boring since i took time to focus on the side characters too. Make sure not to repost my works and sign it off as your own because that's a little disheartening and mockful towards the writer. So all credits reversed to @jaeminscoffee 2020©®

If anyone here doesn't know the story behind the midnight game, then read on! Because I've described it throughout the story! Happy reading!

29/10, Thursday, 10:57PM

"We need to do something this halloween man, Y/n come on!"

Your friends all collectively whined as you constantly kept rejecting their proposal.

Halloween is bullshit. It's overhyped and in all honesty, childish. You'd rather prefer staying home than go house to house and make a fool out of your existence. Not to mention you were all past the age of trick or treating. And to add on top of that came all the sugar rush you'd all go through at the end of the day. "For the last time, Hyuck we're not dressing up like crewmates and going trick or treating. I've got other things to do for the love of god" you grunt, rubbing the scrunched up skin to soothe the pain at the temples. University has been acting up again and so has life. "If your 'other things to do' is binge watch high school musical then no, you have no other better things to do" Yangyang bites back.

"It's just, I don't feel like it anymore, alright? It feels too weird going out asking for candies when we're all literally 19 and above. It's time to up the notch." you say, plopping down.

When Haechan called for an emergency meeting in pure 'among us' style back at the guys' dorm, you'd expected it to be about something along the lines of having to console Jaemin or someone for having been stood up on a date. What you didn't expect was to have the boys prepare an entire presentation on who'd dress up as what character from among us and who'd be the impostor, do a little play and then say 'red is sus' and then ask for candies. What made it worse was that you thought they were just pulling a prank on you when in all reality, they were dead serious which made you go, 'oh, oh they aren't pretending to be stupid, they're just in their original form.'

"It won't be that bad, doll. It's a genius plan if you ask me" Jaemim chirped in on the conversation finally after looking back and forth between you, Donghyuck and Yangyang caught up in a meaningless fight. "I don't see how any of this is genius, Jaem. If this plan's anything, it's stupid." You pull out your phone after making your way all the way to the headboard of Jaemin's bed. "How about we try out one of these creepy pasta games?" Yuta finally spoke up. Jaemin's brother, an early graduate, senior and of course a dear friend of yours. Yuta, despite the age difference between your classmates and you, had little to no trouble blending in with the tiny group of yours. Probably the only one who didn't behave like a toddler and the most sane one according to you. Yuta's been an amazing planner since junior year where you first met Jaemin, Yangyang and Donghyuck who then proceeded to introduce you to their senior friend group that consists of Yuta, Johnny, Doyoung; Donghyuck's cousin and Ten. You guys had a friendship the entire campus was envious of. But two year after you getting into the university, the seniors had to graduate. But that didn't stop all your bonds from staying as strong as ever. Not even after Ten got his posting in a town a little far away from the one you guys lived in. The distance didn't change anything between you guys and you were as close as you could ever get.

"Creepypasta?" Donghyuck inquired, looking straight at the guy who aimlessly scrolled down the screen of his device as Yuta didn't even bother looking up while passing the confused boy a nod. Sitting up cross legged from his previous side sitting posture, Yuta showed his phone screen to Donghyuck, who immediately got surrounded by the other two while you stare at the oldest in the room, slightly intrigued by the idea. "Creepypasta's like these horror-related legends that have been copied and pasted around the Internet by people who're too bored for their own sake." you explain as Haechan took the phone out of Yuta's hand who agreed to your explanation. "I read some sick games that I kinda wanna try out and see for myself," he said, looking at you with expectations and then the rest who seemed too immersed in surfing the website.

"Yuta, you of all people should know better than to think all these made up crap's real" you say nonchalantly.

Yuta's a huge skeptic, and so were you. Which is why you got along really well despite the mentioned age gap. The night gatherings back at the boy's dormitory or the girls (in this case, girl, yours) would always end up in narration of on spot made up stories of all genre, mostly horror because apparently according to Jaemin 'Rom-com's overhyped, sci-fi won't be fun when you narrate it out loud, mystery can easily turn boring, comedy, meh i guess, but a good horror story narrated properly, -yes, like you, Haechan- while adding jumpscares here and there could actually result in y'all being too scared to use the bathroom on your own'. And yeah, you'd startle here and there but the stories weren't believable enough for you to actually be scared. On the other hand, Haechan and Jaemin were scaredy cats. Literal toddler's who're so gullible, you could literally tell them there was an alien invasion news flash two minutes ago and they'd be hiding under their bed. And then there's Yangyang, he just doesn't care. He goes along with the plans solely for the fun of it and for the other's' (Haechan and Jaemin) reaction. "That's the point. I don't" he shuffled around to shift closer to you,

"Which is exactly why i want to try them out"

Maybe it's the feline that crossed over his body, maybe it was the fact that his spirit just wasn't ready to leave the human realm yet. Maybe it's the mourning of his family or maybe it's him himself knowing full too well his potential was truly wasted due to the fast departure. Whatever it was, his spirit was definitely made restless.

The world is a cruel place where harsh actions are always sugar coated by honey like words. It's how he knew the doings of his people were wrong that made him disappointed. The practices of the people, his people, were stupid, meaningless and only harmful to the human kind. They fend off the satisfaction of their almighty even if that means that there needs to be sacrification of their loved ones, their nemesis, or them themselves. And it was his ancestors fault for starting all these practices.

Passed down generations from generations was the curse put on the first of their bloodline by the princess he'd defied to go out and be ruthless by disregarding his duties as a husband, a father, a member of the royal courts and as a human being.

Lee Dong Wook. The root of all evil, the main reason the males of the family line faced the same wrath as him, all cursing at him but one namely enjoying his role. The pagans, dating back to the roman times era had a very, let's say, interesting method of punishing. The said lords they'd worship, the people following the religions had a strong belief that nature is sacred and that the natural cycles of birth, growth and death observed in the world around us carry profoundly spiritual meanings. Gods and goddesses of life, or say, death or anything else that exists beyond life and death, they believed in all.

The doings of his ancestors started off innocent. Sacrifices to the lords of goodness and tranquility, a peaceful life by the towns and outskirts, forgiveness for wrong doings and of course, happiness. It's how any religious rituals would go about and all were happy until the said betrayer of the group came in with that curse of his. 'The doings of his shall be repented for all the men following shall be the one paying it,'

At first glance when the man returned back to his royals, there were little to no suspicions of a curse being casted on him. He seemed normal to his family, his people except for the occasional forcing people to do something they despised. And it wasn't just the men of the family instead, it was all. But mostly the men, unless the same sin were to be committed by the females. Obscure behaviors have been asked to follow starting exactly at midnight to the witch's hour be it hurting your loved one, your enemy, doing sinful things, allowing self to get manipulated and mostly, shortening their own life time in the human realm. It was all unexplainable. Why was he asking people to do things like this but most of all, why are they even listening to him?

It wasn't until they discovered that Dong Wook, for one, was never the one who returned home. On a second note, he, 'Dong Wook' mainly only targeted the men whose doings were similar to his that was fueled by the same sin that had him going. Which only remained undiscovered. The curse was unbeknownst to all still, Dong Wook himself remained undiscovered. Or proposed by the elders of the community, his body remained undiscovered while his spirit roamed restless among the people.

The pagan romanticists are, in most cases, ignorant of the “paganism” they praise—the redeemed paganism of Christianity depicted in the transfigured water of the True Well of Life. Wrestling with the Greek gods, however, leads us to see the hyper-anthropomorphization of the gods with one intention in mind—justification of sexual lusts and displays of power over the weak.

The oldest written account of the Greek deities is from Hesiod. His Theogony, literally “birth of the gods,” charts out the genealogies of the major and minor deities in two branches. The first set of gods come into existence without sex. The second set of gods come into existence with sex; often very graphic and violent sex and they continue to have violent sex after their birth.

As Hesiod continues to describe the birth and death of the gods and great monsters of antiquity, the chaining of Prometheus to his eternal torment is described. So too is Hades’ rape of Persephone. Battle is depicted left and right, and “a terrible din arose from their dreadful wrath, and the work of power was revealed”. Lust, sex, and war reign supreme in Hesiod’s telling of the birth of the gods. Moreover, it is from this brutality and carnality that Hesiod gives them praise—only those with enough cunning and ambition are worthy of having the praise of the muses.

That the gods birthed through sexual lust are themselves lustful was not missed by Christians of the pagan community. Though St. Augustine received the Romanized version of the Greek myths, he goes to great lengths and laborious pains—using the pagans’ own prophecies —to highlight the moral depravity of the gods in Confessions and City of God.

His sin, after all the years, was lust and the want to dominate.

'Lust though pleasurable, innocent and vice, thee shall stay loyal to thy partner regardless of wants. To betray thy partner is to deceive thy people and hence the kingdom. Thou shall pay for thy soul shall remain wandering, driven by the desires but, shall not be able to feel the human love thou took for a grain of salt. And all who shall follow thy steps shall face the same wrath.'

Oh, how lust was a dangerous feeling.

29/10 continued. 11:28PM

It's how you all circled around in the living room like any other day that was comical to you. Instead of reading out your own made up story, it so happened to be the Creepypastas Yuta screenshotted for what he wanted to try out and see for himself. It wasn't even his idea to read them out. Haechan and Jaemin's 'too curious for their own sake' selves were the ones who wanted to read it out loud. "How about we sit in the order of who's gonna read out what and when?" Yangyang suggested, standing up from his seat. "Yuta read out the topics and we'll pick randomly."

"No fun! Hold up," Haechan did some pretty exaggerated hand actions before getting up and heading to his room, well, Jaemin's room to do who knows what. "Okay? I'll get the candles!" Yangyang said, him getting out of his seat too, "And I'll go get the bible, jesus christ" and Jaemin was out of his seat too. You look at Jaemin in a funny manner, as though questioning him with your eyes if he's actually going to get a bible or not, "What? I don't want to die young, I'm too hot for that" he said, before following Haechan's steps to his bedroom, "Yikes, you aren't going to die dude"

"Okayy, I'm back, make way bitches" Haechan dictated to which he earned a few groans and a smack on the ankle from Yuta, "Jaemin! I can't find the candles!" "It's beside the Reese's cups! Second rack inside of the refrigerator!" Jaemin says while walking back up to your tiny circle with an empyre comic in his hand and a cross pendant dangling off of his neck, "That's a bible?" you question. "Shush, do not question the power of avengers and fantastic four." Jaemin replies, holding the comic up close to his chest. You all collectively dismiss it with a concerned look directed towards the male, "Are we not going to question the fact that Jaemin keeps his candles inside the fridge?"

"So here's what we're going to do, I've got these tiny papers which have numbers from 1 to 5,because we're five people and I've folded the paper into chits, once i toss it, we pick random sheets and the number you get is when your turn to read is, any objections?" Haechan explained, "Even if you have any, keep it to yourself because I don't care" he bites in again while juggling the folded sheets in a closed palm while the other supports his body by it being planted behind him. "Okay I'm back with the candles" Yangyang finally joins in on the circle, completing it, "You took that long to find one candle?" Yuta asks, "No i was eating the reese's cups" he replied, wiping his hand on your jean clad thighs earning him a loud whine of 'Eww that's disgusting man' and a little too far from soft smacks on his shoulder, "You piece of sh-" Jaemin starts, "Okay all, Focus!" Haechan cuts him off, ready to throw the bits onto the space between the five of you in front of the now lit candle (Thank you, Yuta), and so he tossed it a little high up from the ground, letting the paper fall of his palms and onto the floor while being cautious of not throwing it anywhere near the flame.

"Now let's arrange ourselves according to the numbers, who's number one?" Haechan asks, Yuta raises his hands while pointing at where he's sitting, "I'm not getting up, y'all arrange yourself so that the person going second is to my right and the last person would be to my left", you all look at him nonchalantly, "What?" with a shake of your head, you proceed calling out numbers, "Number two?" Haechan shoves Yangyang back to take his place beside Yuta, "bitch." Yangyang seats himself beside Haechan, followed by Jaemin and lastly, you.

"First, Yuta!" Jaemin slurs the elders name, receiving a death glare from his cousin. Nevertheless, Yuta cleared up his throat and switched his attention to his phone screen, "The first urban legend is from Japan, ironically." He states as a matter of fact, "It's called Aka Manto."

"Aka manto is an urban legend related to toilets—particularly those in elementary schools.-"

"Is that why you take a relatively long time inside of the bathroom? Are you, you know? Tickling pickles with Aka Mant-ow! Sorry!" Yangyang was wasted as he was tackled onto the floor by Yuta, while the rest of you cracked up, "Now let's get a little serious, come onnn!" Haechan whines.

"This phenomenon is known all over Japan, with countless variations on the same theme. It usually takes place in a specific stall in a specific bathroom in the school. Usually it is an older or seldom used bathroom, often in a stall with an older style squat toilet. Often the fourth stall is the cursed one, as the number four is associated with death." "I'm so glad our university has only two stalls," Jaemin chimes in, suddenly grasping the cross pendant.

"Most stories follow this general pattern: while at school late in the evening, a student suddenly finds him or herself in desperate need of a toilet. The closest restroom available is one that is normally avoided by the students; it is older and less well-kept, separated from the rest of the school, and is rumored to be haunted. But with no time to search for a different restroom, the student enters. He or she does their business, and when they have finished, they reach for the toilet paper only to find that there is none. Then they hear a strange voice" Yuta looks up from the phone screen, "“Do you want red paper? Or blue paper?”"

"None bitch, give me the classic white,"

With a roll of his eyes, Yuta continues, "If the student answers, Red paper, moments later, they're stabbed and sliced up violently that blood seeps out of them, painting the walls of the stall red and it soaks up into their body, making them appear red", "And if the student responds blue paper, then their blood is going to be sucked up dry, leaving them dead and blue-faced on the floor."

"But! If you try to outsmart Aka Manto, by replying to question with, i don't know, "Yellow paper" then too, dead is inevitable, you will be shoved onto the floor where the spirit is said hold your head down in the dirty toilet water until you drown and well, die" Yuta ends with a shrug of his shoulder, "Seems pretty bullshit to me" and you agree alongside, though, it could be a little creepy if the existing legend did turn out to be true. "Okay next!"

Yuta leans back a little more, pressing onto your side which you took as an invitation to lean on his shoulder. When you did so, all Yuta did was beam at you and wrap his arms around you to keep you close after handing the phone over to Haechan, "If you want me to start reading you have to give it up for me. Give me the grand welcome that i deserve" the lad said in a childish voice which again only earned him a few smacks and half hearted applauds. "So this one is apparently called, the one man hide and seek" though all narrations were being taken on a lighter note, the mood set in the room gave you enough space to picture the stories, added to that came the factor that Donghyuck knows exactly how to narrate what.

"The "One-Man Hide and Seek", also known as the "One-Man Tag," is a ritual for contacting the dead. The spirits, which are wandering restless on the Earth, are always looking for bodies to possess. In this ritual, you will summon such a spirit, by offering it a doll instead of a human body." He lowers his voice while focusing solely on the screen.

"The warnings say that if you have any psychic abilities, you may feel unwell or be prone to accidents during the ritual." He raises his eyebrows, looking at all four of you in a curious manner. The things you need for this game seems lowkey sketch"

"One stuffed doll. It must have limbs, Rice, enough to stuff the doll full. One needle, and one crimson thread. One pair of nail clippers. One sharp-edged tool, such as a knife, glass shard, or scissors. One cup of salt water. Natural salt would be best. A bathroom, with a bathtub and some form of counter. A hiding place, preferably a room purified by incense and ofuda. There must be a TV in there." Haechan's face contorts with each requirement for the game. Letting out a defeated sigh, he hands the phone over to Yangyang, "Of all the stories i could've narrated, i got chosen for this and for what? Just to contact stupid poltergeists. Just play a ouija board and go"

Giving Haechan a sympathetic pat on the back, he takes the device. Looking through the screen he cracks up a smile, "Alright, listen up closely. This is an Urban legend classic"

"The Slender Man-" a bunch of 'aahhs' of realization resonate through the room

"-is a supernatural creature that is described as appearing as a normal human being but he is described as being 8 feet tall and he has vectors or extra appendages that are described to be as sharp as swords. The creature is known to stalk humans and cause many disappearances. He is described as a shadow creature that has a missing face. The creature fits into many mythologies in legends from nations such as germany and celts which brings up the possibility that he could be real." Yangyang pauses to add in a little more life to his reading while all of your paid full concentration to him

"A man named victor Surge found this legend and made his own version of it which he called slender man. The slender man is not exactly evil according to mythology but victor Surge’s version shows him as an evil creature that stalks humans to kill. In mythology he was actually trying to save you from a painful death by taking you to the underworld early." he ends, placing the phone down in front of him, screen down. "Kills you to save you from a death and collectively shortens your lifespan? Seems legit to me" Jaemin chimes in while the rest of you chuckle whereas Haechan pouted at the device in front of his friend, "I should've gotten that story"

"My turn!"

"So, ahem-" Once the focus is all on him,Jaemin looks down onto the device containing his part of narration. "- This is an urban legend about a girl named Daruma who was a young Japanese woman that died in the bathroom, which upon entering to take a bath, it stumbled and her forehead ended up against the edge of the tube, destroying it the brain, at the same time that her eye embedded in the tube , leaving it in consequence, one-eyed key and later , dead by bleed out." "Oh god ouch" You hiss as though your forehead was the one that hit the edge, " Her appearance as described is apparently; black hair that is entangled, her clothes rotting and made shreds. She only has one eye. Her left eye is completely open and injected with blood." "That's gruesome," Yangyang adds, earning a nod from Jaemin who's eyes were still fixated on the screen. "And apparently there's a ritual that you can follow to summon her into your house for twenty four hours straight" At the silence, he continues. "I'll shorten it, so you have to begin it right before your bedtime, shed all your clothing and enter your bathroom, turn off all the lights and fill in your bathtub, climb into it while being seated facing faucet, close your eyes and start washing your hair while chanting "Daruma-san fell down" and keep chanting that until you're done washing your hair, and yeah don't open your eyes."

"If you did it right then you'll get this image of a japanese who'll slip and fall in front of you. Even if you hear a noise behind you, do not open your eyes, no matter what it takes, Ask out loud, 'why did you fall in the bathtub' and let that hang in the air. With your eyes still closed, get up and out of the tub and be careful not to slip and do not drain the tub. Go to your room, don't turn the lights on, shut the bathroom door closed and sleep. Wake up the next day and carry on with your day and you'll apparently feel her presence alongside you all day. She'll constantly try getting close to you, when she does, scream 'Tomare!',"

"That means stop," Yuta adds to which you all hum in understanding.

"To end the game, capture her gaze from over your shoulder and say 'Kitta' which means 'I cut you loose' while swinging your arm in a chopping motion. If you followed the procedures then you'll be rewarded but if not then, run. That's all it says here" He stops, looking a little shaken at how he created an image of it all in his mind. "They didn't say how to get rid of her if you fail following the procedure?" you ask

"No." Jaemin shrugs it off

"Alright boys, my turn"

30th October, Friday, 10:53PM

It's probably how you read out your part of story telling, or it was how he felt the game was a little too unrealistic that had Yuta hooked onto the urban legend.

Yuta found himself at his dorm doing a little more research on the midnight ritual. A backpack already consisting of all the elements required for the game, 'could it really be played just by one person?'. Whatever it was, he really wanted to do the game. He wanted someone to accompany him, of course. But knowing his friend group, not many would be ready to play it alongside. Doyoung was probably busy preparing his resumes for his job interviews. Johnny's all the way back in Chicago for a little family time. Ten was a little too far from your town so he'd feel bad calling him all the way over just to perform a probably demonic ritual. Donghyuck and Jaemin are out of the question, they'd obviously say no. Yangyang has a company party to attend as the heir. And you had to study for your test on Monday so he didn't really feel like disturbing you though, he did inform you that he was going out to have some fun and that you could join him anytime. Closing his laptop with a sigh, he gets up and walks over to where his bag was sprawled across the floor, picks it up and makes his way out of the studio apartment like dormitory after grabbing his car keys.

Not like he believed it was real, it's incase if the legend turns out to be even the slightest of reality, he wasn't going to get his dormitory haunted, instead opting to perform it at the house he grew up in, his childhood house. That was left abandoned ever since they moved out months before his younger brother was born after his father had an episode still unknown to him inside the place. It was convenient enough to perform the ritual in and no one lives there anymore, and it was just a few minutes from where his house was anyways.

Reaching the place and swinging the backpack over his shoulder, he makes his way into the surprisingly still intact house. Not much time to waste, looking around, Yuta slowly made his way up the wooden stairs, the wood creaking with each step he took to prove the existence of this house dated long back. The guest room shut lock from lack of human souls even when they used to live there. The paintings still hung off of a single screw, nostalgia hitting him straight as he recalled the one time he was playing catch with a neighbor's kid and ended up breaking the glass frame. The wallpaper's adhesive seemingly had gotten weaker from how they had started coming out from nooks and crannies of the walls. The place, without doubt, looked a little creepy but nonetheless felt homely.

Switching on all switches from the main controller that was in the control room right by the end of the hallway, the entire darkness was replaced with light as the bulbs shockingly still seemed to function. The warm white colour of the lights took Yuta all the way back to his growing up years, missing all the fun he'd had there and all the memories he'd created. He, though grew up mostly by himself from how busy his parents were on the weekdays and sometimes the weekends, missed them more now that they live far off in Japan with his mother's family. Especially now that he was in the place they spent the most time together in. Shaking his head, he had no trouble navigating his way to his childhood room. Where he set the bag down.

He reached out to his back pocket to get out his phone, switching it on as the screen illuminated, 11:28PM, the screen read. To kill the time, Yuta set up all the items required in place to proceed the ritual smoothly. He pulled his laptop out of the backpack once he was all set to maybe watch something on the internet. It being other peoples attempt at the ritual he was about to perform.

11:55PM.

Yuta inhaled, having only a few more minutes until he had to proceed. He recalled your words,

"Alright boys, my turn" You snatch the phone out of Jaemin's hand who seemed really immersed in finding out more about the legend he just read out about, earning a pout from him. "I was reading" he let out in a whiny tone immediately going stoic after receiving a 'do i care' look from your end. "Okay, so the story I'm going to read out is called the midnight man, or the midnight game" You scroll back and forth through the pages the oldest of the group screenshotted. "From what he's gathered, there's not much backstory, but apparently it's a ritual or mostly a punishment that the pagan's use to punish the betrayer of the group who failed to stay loyal to their lords or the group. One of the people of the religion will summon the midnight man to an abandoned house where they lock up the said betrayer who'll then be put through god knows what by the midnight stranger," You stop to look up from the screen to look at each of your friends before letting out a sigh.

"My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you state, "But what if, it's the midnight man that they preach? You know, like, they could be praying the midnight man" Haechan adds in a point which seemed to make sense, "That's possible too"

"Why would someone preach an evil entity? That's so sketch" Jaemin asks perplexed. "They did a lot of sketchy things back in the days, Jaem. I wouldn't question it," Yuta chirps. "Is there any other backstory given about the midnight man?" Yangyang finally speaks up, "Well not really, but when i was taking screenshots of this it apparently started with a curse on someone whose identity is unknown to most. There was no such thing as the midnight game or ritual until the said bewitched man came back into town. I only know up to there, but there are high chances that he's probably the origin of the ritual." Yuta explains. "Why does Y/n get the best always, that's so unfair" Haechan's dramatic self whines while leaning onto Yangyang who rolled his eyes but nonetheless threw his hands around the latter's shoulder, "Anyways, the procedure for the ritual is given here."

"You need one candle, a lighter or a match box or anything that ignites fire, a piece of paper, something to write with, a sharp object, it could be a pin, it just needs to be something sharp enough to draw blood, a wooden door, and salt for protection-" You read out, "Now why the fuck would they need blood," Jaemin asks, shaken up. "That's for them to know and us to find out"

"Here's how the invitation for the midnight man goes. Begin prior to midnight,"

Yuta stood up from his bed, and walked up to the backpack on the floor, picking out the papers he'd brought along and took out a blunt pencil.

"Write your full name- first, middle, and last- on the piece of paper with your writing implement." He wrote syllable by syllable, Nakamoto Yuta. "Prick your finger with the pin and squeeze until a drop of blood appears. Dot the blood on the paper and allow it to soak in. Turn off every light in your home." He took out the small safety pin he brought along from his jean pocket, pressing his fingers hard and pricked into the skin as hard as he could, keeping in mind to not draw too much blood. Yuta let the droplet fall right in the space between his last name and first.

"Place the paper with your name and blood on it in front of the closed wooden door. Light the candle using the matches or lighter and place it on top of the paper. If you are using a taper, make sure it is placed in a candle holder." He walks up to the door and places down the paper with his name and blood on it, with the half melted scented candle he brought along. Yuta took out his phone once again, 11:59. "Knock on the door 22 times. The final knock must occur precisely when the clock chimes 12am. Open the door; then blow out the candle and close the door. Relight your candle immediately." He starts to knock on the door, drumming on the dusty wood, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22.

He checks the time once again, 12:00AM.

He leans down to pick the glass jar containing the candle, relighting it,

"I welcome you."

Taeyong loved the tiny creatures in the human realm. They were so naive and so, stupid but weirdly smart at the same time that made playing with them ten times more interesting. The callings from them, or the way they say it in the human realm, summoning the spirit was the only way he could gain access to enter the place. Summoning wasn't even necessary. Saying his name out was more than enough for him to go up to you. Midnight man, midnight stranger, midnight visitor, pagan's god, What not had the human's named him.

The only one besides his ancestor of said curse that enjoyed the power of punishing people was Taeyong himself. The youngest of the bloodline and the freshest of pagan's spirit, he loved the power he had. Sure he had no access to love, instead besides lust and range he felt nothing, maybe amusement too, but none other than that and he seemed perfectly fine with that. Human's always seeked lust more than love either way so he found no problem in being void of feeling a vulnerable emotion. Instead, he found love pathetic. Watching human's from where he lived, he'd seen all from men and women seeking love by going to heights of trouble only to waste away your remaining life with one partner. Leeching off of pleasure at times when you had a significant other. He always got a hearty laugh from all of that. According to him, if you want someone, get them. Instead of tailing them and trying to be a goody two shoes, just make them yours in a way that's inevitable for them to fall for you. Control how they feel. Easier said than done since he was the only one with the ability to do so, 'how fucking pitiful'.

So when he saw you and your small group of friends discussing about him, laughing at all the assumptions you made along the way, he wanted each of you to himself. "My take on this though is that it's highly impossible since the rules here state that once you start the ritual you aren't allowed to the leave the place until the game is completely done unless you want the midnight man to follow you around for as long as you live, so unless the midnight man actually favored the pagans, there's no way they could punish the betrayer without one of the loyal ones passing away along with the one being punished" you're smart and that was intriguing to him. He liked the way you thought of things and the male beside you too, you both seemed to take tales of him as a grain of salt and that, besides angering him, made him feel the want to prove himself to you. Taeyong found the other three cute, seemingly scared of him just the way he liked it.

His ancestor's who held the same power as him, the curse actually, came to be known as said lord because of their power of manipulation and to inject in their worst nightmare into their minds that had the people divide themselves into groups. One that believed the power they had was for the good and considered them to be their god, their savior. And the other being the one's scared of their power and the fear that the same faith would bestow upon them that had them pray for forgiveness for sins they never committed. So your friend had the point a little, but it was inaccurate. They believed him. Believed Taeyong and feared his power. He loved people bowing down in front of him, eyes trembling and body shivering. It gave him a sense of dictatorship. And he had set his mind to have both of you non-believers fear him.

Having been brought up with little to no love, Taeyong followed down the same path as his great grandfather. Not having enough time to feel the vulnerable emotion, he chose to go down the path of pleasure and power play. His powers though, seemingly stronger than the past generations, probably due to the fact that he was young, ruthless and free of care. He could make himself appear physically in the human realm in any shape and form, though he always preferred to go in his original, but less scarier form. His visuals were out of the world. He didn't have to scare people to make them obey, instead all he had to do was pretend to be there and just be himself and that only made humans seem even pathetic to him.

"Relight your candle immediately"

12:01PM, The main event.

"Keeping your candle in hand and your salt and matches or lighter close by, begin to move about your home. Should your candle go out, you must relight it within the next ten seconds. If you are successful, continue moving about your home. Do not stop moving until 3:33 am. If you are unsuccessful in relighting the candle, immediately surround yourself with a circle of salt. Remain inside the circle until 3:33 am. At 3:33 am, it is safe to stop moving or to step outside your circle of salt. You may also turn on the lights. The game Is Over."* You conclude. Hissing slightly at the sudden pain by your shoulder that was exposed from the minimalistic clothing you'd adorned, the stranger looking over it all smirked to himself. 'Got it'

Yuta opened the door again, mindful to keep his phone back in his jean pocket along with the lighter and of course, the salt be brought along. Starting from the end of the hallway, nothing seemed to change except now, the eerie silence was starting to bother him, 'Just 3 hours to go,'. He didn't miss a single corner, walking room to room, corner to corner, mindful to stay inside all the way. The temperature of certain rooms seemingly lesser than others. A cold pocket.

"There are few warnings too," you swipe the image to go to the next one, "At 3:33 am, the Midnight Man will leave your home. After he has left, you may safely end the game. Do NOT turn on any lights during the game. Do NOT use a flashlight during the game. Do NOT go to sleep during the game. Do NOT use a lighter instead of a candle during the game." Check. He had a lighter on him just to relight the candle anyways.

Taeyong, following the guy seemed to be quite impressed by his bravery. Not even the slightest of shaken up as he proceeded to walk about the villa. That's good, no slip ups and he seemed too good to mess anything up either ways, and that bored the entity. Where's the fun if he just succeeded?

To avoid the candle from going off at the sudden flickering, Yuta covered it up the best he could with his hands and checked around whether any windows were left open. Darkness engulfed the surrounding all of a sudden, the lad being taken aback, 10 seconds. He rushed to take out his lighter, 9, pressing the button repeatedly to ignite the flame only to get a small blue flame instead, huh? 8, running back full speed happy that he was in the premises of where his backpack is, he pulled the spare lighter, a brand new one out of the side pocket, 7, repeating the same process of flicking the button over and over, 6 until a bright orange flame engulfed the dark room, 5, he immediately grabbed his candle from besides the bag, 4 reaching in close by the wick, burning himself slightly in 3-, the process. Yuta heaves out a sigh of relief, while the spirit laughs at the frantic boy. 'He's cute.'

For a breaker, he took out his phone, looking at the time that seemed to pass by quickly throughout the ritual, 2:47 AM. A little more while to go until he'd finally get it over with. "Do not attempt to provoke the Midnight Man during the game." You ended for the nth time that night, "Which idiot would-" Yangyang asks "Haechan-" Jaemin pretends to cough while blurting out his best friends name, the mentioned feigning offence while tilting his head to the side, tongue poking at the insides of his cheek. "Seems like that's pretty much it." you shrug while the older guy beside you leaning back on both of his hands, "I kinda wanna try that out" Yuta raised his eyebrows at you. "Halloween night? We all go together" you chirp in, both of you whipping your heads to look at the three perplexed boys. "Uh, I have to water my fish on halloween? She'd get pretty thirsty". Jaemin's eyes wandered about, coming up with an excuse, "And I gotta walk my rock yo, physical fitness." Haechan adds, "Can I bring my fish along? She could use some exercising".

"Come on guys, it won't be that bad, we'll stick in a group?" You pleaded, trying your best to muster up the cutest puppy eyes. "I'm down" Yangyang shrugs. You do a tiny seal clap, looking expectedly at the other two, Yangyang and Yuta doing the same. "We stick together?" Haechan asks, to which the three of you nod your head,

"Alright then we're down too"

[3:04AM 30th, October. ]

A few more minutes left until he'd succeed, Yuta was starting to grow tired of constantly roaming. He'd usually not the one to wear out that quickly, but for a reason unknown to him, he felt utterly sleepy, tired, hungry and just wanted to lie down. He decided to take a small break, the candle still light, dangerously flickering but yet still intact. Yuta sat by the foot of the stairs as Taeyong looked at him with the same cocky smirk on his face, contemplating whether to pop out or not. 'Maybe let's make it subtle? '

Taking up the form of a black humanoid figure, Taeyong makes his way towards Yuta whose eyes seem to be dropping low with each passing second. Upon hearing the sounds of footsteps Yuta looks up, a hand on his forehead from the sudden throbbing headache. Letting out a loud yell at the figure in front of him that disappeared almost immediately, he rushed to grab his lighter again. The sudden temperature drop made him shudder. Taking out the new lighter, he pressed the button again and again as the time limit started to exhaust, 6, at a successful fire, he reached for his candle, only for the flame to go off when it neared the candle wick. "what the fuck.." 5, "come on.." he stated in a rushed voice, sure that he just saw whatever he saw once again. Finally flicking the button one last time, he succeeded in lighting the candle.

Contrary to popular belief, the midnight man didn't always radiate death. Sometimes he just messes around with the humans because the underworld could get a little boring. And as the curse states death and wrath is only to be faced by those who sinned and the boy playing right now seemed to be of no threat. All Taeyong wanted to do was get the guy to believe in his existence. Skeptics were like an insult to him. So if he had to prove himself and his existence on his own, then so be it. He gets some pretty good experience out of it anyways.

Yuta stood up immediately, remembering the warning's you'd stated, "Do not stop moving until 3:33am", walking back up the stairs, he took out his phone to check the time, 3:29am. Almost.

The same sounds of footsteps resonated from behind him, Yuta took an immediate U-turn. Going back down the stairs and roaming the empty, dark hallways, making sure to enter each and every room, keeping a mental note to thank his parents for having a slightly confusing infrastructure. The wax was almost completely out in the glass jar, but he had to hang in there for a little longer than 2 more minutes when he felt something brush his shoulder, much similar to how a friend would drape their hands over his/her friends' shoulder. He could've brushed it off as anything if it weren't for the sharp pain he felt right after the feeling of someone touching him. He's getting the proof he wants. Almost as if someone pulled his hoodie, Yuta stumbled back, letting out a shaky scream, tripping on his own foot, landing butt down onto the floor, catching a glimpse of the same humanoid figure he'd been seeing. He needs to get out of there.

Stumbling back onto his feet, Yuta bolted it upstairs, grabbing his phone once again to check the time, 3:32am. Reaching his room, he set the candle down right beside him, vary of the windows and doors, starting to back his backpack, the sounds of rushed footsteps running start to where he is ringing through his ears, hands shakingly packing his bag. Keeping the candle closeby, contemplating whether to draw a salt circle or not since there was only less than half a minute left when the same humanoid figure neared him with fast footsteps, reaching by the door frame with a loud agonizing scream only to disappear immediately.

Not realising the stress of tears flowing and the tresses sticking to his forehead, Yuta looked at the door frame in a perplexed yet confused manner. What the fuck was that.

Taking out his phone once again while grabbing his backpack, laptop and the car keys in the other hand, 3:34 am. He'd made it through. After reaching the front door, not even bothering to close it, he rushed to his car, starting it before pulling up your contacts, seeing the messages he'd never sent you.

Yuta san 1:39am: The boys said they won't make it tomorrow, it's gonna be just you and i

Y/nleE 1:43am: Why not?

Yuta san 1:45am: Dk, they said they aren't interested. So come near xxxx tomorrow at 11:30. I'll meet you there.

Y/nleE 1:48am: Coolsies.

Yuta san 3:38am: Y/n don't come here, gather the boys and meet me by Haechan's dorm tomorrow. The game's no fucking joke.

And with that he started driving away quickly to his dormitory, not once looking back at the house to see a human. Or a human like figure standing there, A bright red hair standing out due to his blood drained looking pale skin. A smirk on his face

Message not delivered.

31st October, 22:37PM, 2020.

Today was a weird day,

Having all plan's set two days before, you'd make sure to keep yourself ready for whatever you and your friend group were supposed to do today. You finished up all your assignments earlier that day to keep yourself free from afternoon and on.

The weird part was that, no matter how much you kept your phone for charge, each time you tried calling one of the guys to ask for the sudden bailing out on plan, which is a shocker because they've never done that, your phone kept switching off. You could've gone all the way to their apartment, well, dorm, but you decided to wait until later to do so. Maybe a few minutes before leaving to the place Yuta texted you so that they'd have no choice but to come along. Since your last time texting with Yuta, you hadn't heard from him. Granted, he did text you quite late at night saying he's going to do god knows what and to tell you of the sudden plan change, but you hadn't heard from him after, that being weird since he literally lives a floor below yours, he could've come any moment but nope. You kept a mental note to tell him off later.

You took out your phone once again to check if they'd sent any messages or missed calls only to have an empty chat box, other than that of your other friends that is. Added on top of that came the constant pricking feeling on your shoulder blades from the last day you hung out with the boys. The pain would appear randomly and it would be hurtful enough to draw blood, which is weird considering the fact that you kept yourself away from all sharp objects and had a full sleeve covering the area.

One stone, two birds. Taeyong's motto.

After having interfered with your phone, your friends, trying to keep you away from them until you'd go through the same as your other skeptic partner, Taeyong made sure that Yuta would be sick enough after returning home to keep him from even getting up from his bed. Temporary paralysis. Your other friends, of course they tried reaching out to you, only for him to cut the service to keep you away from them for a while. They got easily distracted from you ignoring their texts as they were focused on reaching out to Yuta.

Unknown: Hey Y/n, I'm Yuta's friend. He told me you aren't replying to his texts so asked me to do so.

Y/n: Who's this?

Unknown: Oh! I'm Taeyong! A close friend of well, your friend XD.

Y/n: Nice to meet you, Taeyong. I'm Y/n but it seems like you already know that.

Unknown: Yeah :). Yuta's on his way here and told me that you'd be joining us? Are you nearby?

Y/n: He left? No, actually, I'm just leaving my place. I guess I'll meet you there?

Taeyong: Meet ya :)

[23:22PM, 31st October, 2020 continued. ]

Hailing a cab to the address Yuta had sent you with his friends, Taeyong's number saved on your phone in case the later won't pick up, you left your place. Still feeling a little eerie from how Yuta just decided to leave you behind when he could've just offered to go together, which is pure Yuta style. He probably wasn't in the best of moods but he could've at least texted you letting you know of his departure from the apartment building.

The journey to the given address didn't take that long surprisingly. A little towards the outskirts of the town in a much aloof part but nonetheless, doable. It's not like you'd be alone there any ways. Paying for your fare, you took your purse, brushed your fingers through your hair to tame it a little from the ride, and turned towards the building, jumping slightly at the bright haired guy sitting by the front porch. Adorning the simplest of fit, a black knee slit jeans, with a graphic tee and a black leather jacket with a chain or two. He, in no doubts, was ethereal. His pale skin stood out the most in the street light if you could call it that and his lips seemed a little drained of blood, eyes hollow yet captivating when he looked up from the dirt below him to you who still stood yards away. Smiling, he got up, making his way towards after brushing off the invisible lint from his jeans, "Hey" he offered you his hands for you to shake upon reaching you. "Hey..? Taeyong, right?"

Wanting so badly to smirk, he only looked down with a silent snicker, looking up immediately to not look suspicious, "Yeah, Y/n..?" you nod in response, shuddering from the coldness of his skin, "Have you been out for too long? You're freezing," you exclaim, looking at him with a guilty expression and taking a mental note to hit Yuta for not arriving earlier. "Oh no, i just reached a minute or two prior to your arrival." you nod in understanding, withdrawing your hands from his hold, "By the way, Yuta called me a few minutes ago, telling me that he wouldn't make it and to just carry on" Taeyong said, looking at you with his eyebrows raised at your confused, innocent expression, his humane form threatening to change into his original form. "What? Why? It's like,-" you look down at your wrist watch, "11:50! And he's bailing out now?", smiling at you in fake sympathy, he replied, "he said he had other things to take care of," "But you said he'd left the place and was on his way here?" you ask, hands on either sides of your hip, "Last minute plan changes" Taeyong shrugs, "Anyways, let's get inside?"

He pointed towards the front door with both his hands, gesturing you to go forward first. And so you do. You offer him a smile before turning your back towards him and making your way towards the old house, the door seemingly open. Climbing up the stairs with caution, humming at the sound of dried leaves crunching up below your feet with each footstep. Taeyong stood behind where you two had introduced yourselves for a few minutes, a few more minutes. "Taeyong? Are you not coming?" you turn around slightly, looking over your shoulder at lad standing still, "Yeah, I'm coming" he replied soullessly, still standing his group until he saw you open the door ajar and then took his first step forward. Not bothering to go too quick.

The insides were simple, very very simple yet magnificent. The flooring seemed to be that of wooden finishing that creaked with each step you took, implying that of how old the infrastructure must be. You look around in awe, clutching at the sling bag that you carried along. You go corner to corner, not bothering to look behind to see if the friendly stranger was hot on your trail, instead seemingly being captivated by the olden time-ish wallpapers and paintings and antique pieces that the wall adorned. Taeyong on the other hand was just growing restless, 4 more minutes until he could play his next victim, he was growing frantic. He did follow you inside, instead opting to walk the opposite direction as you, towards where he'd hidden the paper with your crimson blood and name written on it, contemplating whether to just tear it and carry on proving his existence to the female in the room. 3 more minutes, he bit into his lips, "Taeyong? Look, i found something!" He heard you scream.

Puffing out a breath of frustration, Taeyong replied "Coming!" and he walked out of the room, hands in his pocket towards where you stood by the bottom of the stairs, looking at the lighter in your hand that seemed relatively unused. "I found lighter down here" you look at him with a tiny pout evident on your lips, looking back and forth between the candle and the guy, puzzled. "It must be some thugs who came here to smoke or something" He shrugged it off, taking the lighter out of your hand. It must be you over analyzing things but without a single light turned on in the villa with only your flashlight acting as a source of light, but Taeyong looked even more lifeless than before. Eyes dark ebony and dangerous, somehow intimidating, lips adorning a bright shade of red in contrast to how you saw it the first time, and his aura had seemingly darkened. 2 more minutes. You shake your head and walk up the stairs and towards a room which has it's door wide open. Choosing to lay out your things there, you stretch out a few stiff limbs, "So, me and the boys were planning on doing the midnight game, you know. One of those stupid creepy pastas? I can't believe all of them bailed out on me last minute," you speak particularly to no one in the room, assuming that Taeyong was listening to you, whose ears only perked up at the words midnight and stupid. Midnight. 00:00Am. The devil smirked to himself. Midnight, at last.

"I mean, Yangyang, Jaemin and Haechan came off as no shock to me- they're the other friend's by the way, but Yuta, it's weird for him to at least not let me know." You keep going, scrolling through your phone screen, only for it to load suddenly, No internet access. Sighing, you pull out offline downloads, "Did he tell you anything else? Like if he's feeling unwell or something?" you ask, letting the question float in the air, waiting for a reply. Getting known even after the passing of a few seconds, a minute too maybe, "Taeyong?" you stand up from the bed, well, the bed frame and make your way outside, "Tae?" you look left and right, searching for any moving soul when you feel your phone vibrate in your hands, and the sound of notification resonates through the eerie silence. You look down at the device in your hand, one new message from Yuta san and an immediate black out of the screen. Impossible.

You remembered full well charging your phone to a hundred percent before leaving your dorm. Hell, you even kept it on airplane mode your whole cab ride. Shrugging it off, you keep your phone beside your bag and then proceed to go out to look for your new friend? acquaintance? You didn't even know how to classify him as yet. "Tae, if you're trying to scare me, I'll give you heads up, it doesn't work on me." you chuckle, walking to the room beside the one you were previously lounging in. "It's past midnight and we both seem too uninterested to try out whatever we were supposed to anyways, how about we just head out?" you start, looking down at your wrist watch which displayed 00:09 on the screen in neon green. "I mean, it was stupid enough that my friends and i even decided to try it out knowing it's some made up shit to scare some seven olds, probably" you continue, feeling as though you're talking to the walls at the lack of response. "Taeyong, come on. I'm growing bored."

"Tae-" "You know, the way you logicised made it seem like you're smart enough. It was impressive," you hear his voice, a little too hoarse and plain for your liking, he continued before you could muster up a reply, "But seems like you aren't all that smart after all, seeing how you believed a total stranger and are even ready to spend time with him." you look around the place, only hearing his voice but his figure to be nowhere near you, "Taeyong, what are you talking about?" you head out of the room you currently stood in, jogging to catch his voice.

"It was a little angering you know? The way you spoke about me and my followers, it was disrespectful. And I could've taken you then and there, but what to do. You seemed too cute to take your soul without a small game? Is that what you humans call it?" You feel breathing fanning the nape of your neck and a cold air following it right after, making you turn back, "Your friend got his share of play" you whip your head forward, finally seeing the male in front of you, standing by the door frame of a connective hallway, you swore you felt his presence behind you though. His infamous smirk still adorning his features. Figure a little more towering and intimidating. If you thought he couldn't have seemed more lifeless a few minutes ago, then his appearance now only seemed to prove you wrong. "So it's only fair if you got your part of the play too, right?"

"Taeyong, you're only making your existence weird for me, let's go if you're done." He only tilted his head in amusement, "Oh it's only about to get weirder, darling" You turn back to face a blood red shot eyed male, well, Taeyong, eliciting a gasp from you, you look over your shoulder to see the place where Taeyong stood a blink of eye ago. "How..did-" His chest visibly vibrated from the hearty laugh he let out, "How did I do that?," you step back as his voice dropped even lower, only for you to bump your back into something rigid, something cold, making you let out a yelp as Taeyong seemed to stand still in front of you, "I can do a whole lot of things," you feared turning back, the insides of your stomach hurdling around as whatever was behind you reached their arms up and held you still in a vice grip. "Y/n!" you hear a voice scream from downstairs, "Y/n! Come out! We need to get out of here!" you recognize the voice as that of your friends, Yuta's.

You squirm hard to loosen the person's grip on your shoulder. Once succeeding, you bolt down the stairs, skipping a few steps, tripping now and then but nevertheless making it down without landing face first as you hear Taeyong's laugh thunder throughout the place. You take a turn to reach the front door, where Yuta stood in all his glory. You immediately run into his embrace, ignoring how his body seemed just as cold as the one you felt from whatever Taeyong was, "Y-yuta, he's sick, let's go, we need to go!" you try pulling Yuta's body a little closer to the exit, only for him to stand his ground, wrapping his hands around you even tighter as he caressed your hair, "Oh, Y/n.." your body goes stiff as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, that sounded nothing like your best friend, "Yuta..?"

You try pulling your head away from the nape of his neck to look at him, "No darling, it's 'stupid made up shit''," his body vibrated once again from the laughing against yours, as you feel yourself growing scared each passing second. You try mustering up all your strength to bring it to his sides and push him away when you feel a plush yet cold muscle press against your neck, only for it to go futile. "Still made up for you?" you feel a sharp pang of pain flow through your nerves, result of him biting the skin in a manner far too away from soft, "Taeyon-g- lord--midnight man, whatever you are.. I'm --sorry" you say in a hushed voice, scared that if you voiced out a little louder, he'd pounce at you. You feel him nibble at the soft skin, making you whimper, "Oh no, darling, do not apologize. Your doings really intoxicated me. Kept me entertained for a while."

"But now, it's angering me to know a feeble creature as you kept poking fun at my people. At me. And I want no more than to turn you into something belonging to me. Who'd worship me the way 'my people' do." He whispered against the area, lifting his head up and leaning down, making sure not to let go of his grip on you, "oh no, pretty girls aren't supposed to cry. Tsk tsk, what is this, Y/n" His eyes bore holes onto the crown of your head. "Look at me." he acted on making you look at him faster than you could, "Could you beg for forgiveness? Give me a piece of yourself?" he inched closer to your face, a small snarl escaping his throat at your scared and trembling figure, "Or you could just be my queen and come below with me, and you'd not have to cut down your lifespan"

"Are you turned on by all of this, Y/n? Or is it out of fear?" you let out a shaky breath as the tip of his nose touched yours, "Because i can smell you from here and oh," he let out what sounded like an animalistic growl, "Is it delicious.". "Taeyong, please let me go.. I'm sorry. I really am, just please don't hurt me,-" you let out a whine of pain when you feel his other hand knot his fingers in your locks and pull it back with much aggression, immediately planting his lips onto your trembling once, bearing his fang like teeth into plush flesh to draw out blood, earning a loud high pitched scream from your end as you try your best to push him away, futile once again. His hands tighten their grip at the waist while his other hand pulled your head further back, latching onto the firm skin of your neck, treating it with the same aggression, puncturing through the skin with his teeth as your hands go limp beside your body, nevertheless, letting out a whimper from the harsh treatment, which, in all your defense couldn't be help since you still are a human with all emotion any human would feel, that including lust. You feel his cold lips curve into a smirk against where blood flowed out, lapping it up with his tongue as you feel your vision blacken the more as time went by.

"Oh darling you're no different than me.."

4th November, 19:48Pm, 2020.

"She's awake!!" you blink multiple times to get accustomed to the blaring lights in the room, a comfortable white filling your eyesight. You move your head towards the side to find all your friends sprawled out on each side. A drip connected to your hands making you squint in confusion, "Can you hear us, Y/n?" you feel your shoulders being shaken as jolt, "Hey? Yeah i can hear you, why won't i be able to?" you ask, confusion still laced in your voice, "Because you hadn't responded to us the last time we called you. And because you've been laying dead the past few days" Jaemin spoke up first, earning a smack from his elder brother

"Why didn't you stop when we screamed your name the other day, Y/n? You literally weren't breathing the day we found you" Yangyang inquired and stated, "And why did you leave us all on seen??" Haechan added, "Most of all, where were you even??" Yuta spoke. You hiss at all the questions being thrown at you as you try sitting up by the inclined hospital bed, "Screamed? Didn't respond? I left you on seen? That's highly impossible and where was i??" you stare blankly at the plain wall in front of you, trying to remember any such episode. The more you strained your head, the more clueless you grew. Your throat starts to grow dry so you turn your neck to check if there are any water bottles nearby, only for a sharp pain to flow through your nerves at a particular spot in your throat. You yelp at the sudden pain, "I'll get the doctor," Haechan rushed outside, when you reached out to touch your neck, feeling it with the tips of your finger, feeling in the swollen skin, the dried up blood when it all hit you. Your eyes grow wide as you start shaking, for it to be first noticed by Yuta, "Yuta, that house! The game, it's all real! I saw hi-him, his name! I swear he's real!" growing concerned at your sudden frenzy behavior, Yuta kneeled down beside your bed, holding your non-injected hand giving it a comforting behavior.

"Calm down, angel. Tell me point by point," he encouraged you to take in a long breath, as Haechan rushed in along with the doctor whose face was half covered with a doctor's mask, "Doctor, he-he's probably out for me, you need to get me far away from here! Please" you beg with your eyes stinging with all the tears, "No one's going to get you from here, Ms. Y/n, you're safe here" You pause your frantic actions for a while. That voice sounded a little too familiar for your liking, making you think you're over analyzing everything again. The doctor gestured to your friends to leave you up to him to have a doctor to patient talk. All of your friends nodded in understanding, giving you one last reassuring smile before collectively leaving the room.

The doctor, once after making sure that everyone left, removed his mask to reveal the oh so familiar smirk and the hair protector, rustling the same, familiar bright red hair with the same familiar pale fingers of his. Your eyes widen, mouth falls wide ajar

"Oh wait, there's one last warning, Do not assume that the Midnight Man has left your home for good at the conclusion of the game. I'm for real done now" You laugh at your friend who snatched the phone away from you,

"Pleasure to meet you again, darling"

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stillness-in-green · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on Chapter 314 (and surrounding events)

Being a loose summary of several things I thought about in relation to the leaks, what they say about the series as a whole, a bit of new operating headcanon on the Peerless Thief, and a dash of how fandom is responding to the revelations. Spoilers, obviously.

This chapter makes it quite clear that the HPSC absolutely would have gone in and eliminated the PLF quietly, lethally, and wholly unlawfully if Hawks hadn't reported back the numbers that he did. The only reason the raid involved non-Commission-affiliated heroes at all is because the PLF's manpower was simply too much for the Commission to deal with via their usual methods. I'm both appalled that the disregard for human rights in HeroAca Land is somehow even worse than I thought it was and smug that that tiny little piece I recently posted criticizing the PLF's treatment has turned out to be totally justified and supported by the canon.[1] (Note that this does not absolve Horikoshi of the responsibility to, himself, treat the PLF better than paper dolls tossed into the incinerator of Plot Irrelevance when they cease being convenient to his story.) The fact that the Commission was forced to involve heroes might mean Re-Destro, Mr. Compress and the others are somewhat safer than might otherwise be the case. Because of the involvement of the unsuspecting stooges law-abiding heroes, and because the botched raid became such a huge disaster, there’s far more public scrutiny on this than would otherwise be the case. Of course, "accidents" can still happen,[2] especially in a chaotic environment, but the factors above (combined with Clone!RD murdering the bejeezus out of the Lady Prez) do, I think, suggest that there probably isn't an organized push for quick solutions going on behind closed doors.

I don't think Nagant has been around for a terribly long time or that there was an uptick in vigilantism in recent years—I think the scene where she mentions vigilantes becoming accepted as heroes is just in reference to the early history of heroism. It's in keeping with what Tsukauchi Makoto described in Vigilantes, and forms the basis of the current system—the current system that Nagant was a single cog in a big machine grinding away to preserve.

Speaking of Nagant and the system, it's interesting to me that one of the groups Nagant apparently targeted at the HPSC's behest was corrupt heroes—those who colluded with villains or specifically goaded/incited civilians into using their quirks illegally, thus turning civilians into capital-V Villains in the eyes of the law. One might easily say that targeting corrupt heroes (albeit using a much broader definition of "corrupt") was Stain's whole shtick, but it actually puts me more in mind of the Peerless Thief, Harima Oji. Harima punished greedy or corrupt heroes with theft, and presumably with a measure of declaration and exposure,[3] then distributed their money back to the streets. Someone who ridicules those who abuse their power, and gets away with it for long enough to build a reputation: that right there is a recipe for a folk hero. The HPSC, in whatever form they existed at the time, obviously couldn't let that go on—such repeated humiliations would weaken peoples’ faith in (and obedience to) the system the HPSC was trying to build. At the same time, though, it would also weaken faith in the system to openly acknowledge that system's flaws, to acknowledge that some pretty awful people had found their way into the heroics business specifically for the power and ability to abuse it that the title of Hero afforded them. Public trials would make it a matter of record that some heroes—and, accordingly, heroes at large—did not deserve the public's unquestioning faith. Obviously in a system that was built from the ground up on faith, that was unacceptable. And so Harima was branded a supervillain for exposing the system's flaws, while the corrupt heroes who embodied those flaws to begin with were—and continue to be—quietly disposed of at the HPSC’s discretion.

There's a lot of talk around about how Lady Nagant is stupid, or hypocritical, or delusional, or whatever other dismissive adjective people want to use, because she expresses a preference for AFO's rule over the HPSC's. Firstly, I think it's dubious Lit Crit to fault a character for not being a Paragon of Rationality, especially when they're under the cascading stressors Nagant has been under since she was, what, 13? 14? Forced to live this dichotomy of smiling gallant hero and ruthless covert assassin, had her life threatened by the man who'd taken her in,[4] probably dumped in Tartarus until such time as her trial could be held,[5] and kept in those ghastly, dehumanizing conditions for who knows how long? How shocking, that her objectivity might be somewhat compromised! Secondly, it's not like she's saying that AFO's rule would be a sunny walk in the park. The kanji she uses doesn't even mean "better"; while it can mean serene or tranquil, her more likely meaning is clear/transparent. Her phrasing indicates that she's aware it would be pretty bad; she's simply of the opinion that at least his rule wouldn't be a sham, a pretty lie. It would be bad, but everyone would know it. No one would have these comforting illusions they could lose at any time; if you stepped out of line and got shot in the head by an assassin, well, at least you would probably know you that being defiant was running that risk, rather than never seeing it coming because you'd been told all your life that Heroes Didn't Do That To People. Again, this is a woman whose life was shattered no less than three times by the duplicity of the highest acting authority in this comic.[6] She doesn't have to be Objectively Correct By The Standards Of Ethical Utilitarianism—nor do you have to agree with her choice that because she doesn’t want to live in the Matrix, no one else should get to either—for her opinion to make sense from her own perspective! Thirdly, while I think it's fair to say that the HPSC and AFO actually use fairly similar methods to recruit followers and punish dissenters, we have no idea how much Nagant herself knows about AFO's recruitment tactics other than her own brief experience of it. And while AFO is a controlling and manipulative bastard, at least in his case it's coming from a man who openly styles himself as a Demon King, not an organization positioning itself as lawful regulators of the protectors of society at large while secretly training child soldiers to flagrantly violate every law protecting the human rights and due process of that society's people.

Overhaul's presence is delightful, and yes, he is a victim of Hero Society, if only because Hero Society could have put him in some kind of prison-based rehab facility after Shigaraki was through with him, but chose to dispose of him in Tartarus instead, for absolutely no justifiable cause. I suspect it's only due to Horikoshi not being very interested in the harsh realities of the trauma caused by enforced isolation[7] that Overhaul is the only Tartarus escapee that talks to himself and has dissociated from reality almost completely. Overhaul's maiming was not the fault of Hero Society, nor did Hero Society force him to torture Eri and repeatedly commit cold-blooded murder. But his madness? Yeah, I'm pretty comfortable laying that one at Hero Society's feet, actually. I can’t wait for Deku to have to face the victim that Chisaki Kai has become due to levels of systemic cruelty and negligence that really ought to be criminal—and which, if this were real life, would be.

--------Lately, footnotes are really popular with us!--------

[1] Lady Nagant: *talks about how the Hero Society everyone believes in is illusory, a thin fake over a brutal reality, and that returning to the false simplicity of that status quo will only cause history to repeat itself* Me, two weeks ago: Hero Society will never stop creating its own villains so long as, every time it fails people, it does nothing but shrug and write off the victims as unavoidable, inevitable sacrifices for the greater good.

[2] Yes, I'm still highly suspicious of the "Destro committed suicide in prison" claim.

[3] Compress tells us Harima “preached reformation,” but regardless, you don’t dress up in a modified kabuki costume and waltz midair through nighttime cityscapes raining cash out of the sky if you’re trying to keep your activities a secret.

[4] And her family situation couldn't have been much better than Hawks', if she was targeted by the HPSC to begin with. I would guess she was an orphan in the childcare system, easy to move from whatever alternative care arrangement she was in, be it an orphanage, a group home, or simply mature enough despite her relative youth that she lived alone on government support payments—that kind of thing isn't as unbelievable in Japan as it is in the U.S.—to the HPSC's care.

[5] And given what we learned between this chapter and 297, I doubt she was even allowed to be present for it. Japanese law states that everyone by default is supposed to be present for their own trial, but as in the U.S, that right can be waived if the defendant proves themselves to be a threat to the safety of the judge, court staff and other attendees. And of course, what a threat the HPSC could have painted her as being!

[6] At least until Hori deigns to show us a damn Diet session.

[7] To say nothing of the physical consequences of spending six months stuck in a tiny room with no natural light while frequently being strapped into a straitjacket, of which there should also be several.

#bnha spoilers #bnha 314 #boku no hero academia #hero public safety commission #paranormal liberation front #harima oji #lady nagant #overhaul bnha #my writing?

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op-sheepy · 3 years

Note

6. dark law, 19. Davy Back, 36. the whimsical captain trafalgar law, 55. marine pet AU!

Oh, good eye. Those are some of my favorites.. Here is another long one under the cut. Also sorry for the late response. :D

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6. Dark Law

Essentially my take (one of them at least) on what would have happened had Corazon not taken Law from the Donquixote pirates but left anyway when he thought Law had ratted him out.

Some details regarding this:

Rocinante returns to the marines and was able to submit the intelligence he'd gathered. This doesn't do much except inconvenience Doflamingo, as already acknowledged during Law and Doffy's fight.

Vergo gets discovered so he just goes back to the family.

Law does not eat the Ope Ope no mi since Doflamingo never intended for him to. At least, initially.

Because, I'm assuming, not everyone can perform the "Perennial Youth Operation," as it was stated they needed to be 'wise' or 'knowledgeable' and being a doctor does not really automatically equal that, Doflamingo had to kill the users he had chosen when none of them could do it so the fruit could go back to the circulation and he could feed it to the next potentially qualified person he could find.

Law's Amber Lead Syndrome got healed by one of these users though it was only because Law, himself, taught them how to (being familiar with the disease through his father's research as well being a good doctor)

Eventually, everyone realizes that Law is actually the most suited to wield the fruit (all the other smart doctors either having a fruit already or are simply inaccessible), certain that Law would be able to figure out how to do the ultimate technique. So, reluctantly, because he does care in his twisted conditional way, Doflamingo gives the Ope Ope no Mi to Law.

Law at this point had been raised as Doffy's right hand, all according to his plan. While he truly considers Law family and might genuinely regret making him give up his life, Doffy would still ask it from him because there is nothing more important than Doflamingo and his goals. A sentiment that almost everyone in his family considers true.

And Law... well...

Doflamingo rested both hands on Law's shoulders. His tinted glasses peering down, voice heavy with regret, "I wish there was another way."

Law's face remained impassive only broken by a small wistful twitch of his lips. It almost looked like a smile. He grasped Doflamingo's arm and directed him towards the operating table.

"You have taught me many lessons one of which was the futility of wishing for better circumstances." Law seated him and prepared his equipment.

"You taught me to take advantage of any situation by using whatever it is at my disposal." Carefully, he opened a package of sterile gloves. It wasn't really needed but the ritual of opening the pack and putting the gloves on one hand at a time always helped settle his nerves.

"I had expected you to do the same so I'd been prepared for this even before you gave me the fruit." Law lifted his eyes as he slid the first glove in place. "Don't feel too bad. I really am grateful for everything you've done for me. This is just me returning the favor."

He slid the other glove and stretched it over his hand. Softly, almost a whisper, without taking his eyes off his would-be patient, "I wish there was another way too." The snap that followed the release of the glove was too loud in the small operating room.

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19. Davy Back

Early Heart Pirates stuff. And another workaround for writing with at least one of the nameless Heart Pirates.

A Davy Back Fight is initiated for an abused crew member of the opposing crew because Penguin couldn't help himself. The rules are a work in progress, hence this fic's state in limbo.

I really like writing about how these guys were when starting out. They probably looked too adorable, to be honest, so in the harsh North Blue they must have had a hard time getting treated seriously. Not that that would have bothered them (I honestly think they exploited it a lot.)

The enemy captain stared intently at each Heart Pirate then at the list of members given to him. The man didn't bother controlling the upward curl of his mouth.

"No powers. No weapons. Sumo wrestling with your navigator and hand-to-hand combat with your doctor."

Shachi choked and struggled a little bit to get his breathing back to normal. He waved away Penguin's hands patting his back. The pats were a little too harsh, clearly an admonishment if the accompanying glare was anything to go by.

Penguin almost felt sorry for whoever it was being matched against Law. Bepo, while just as incensed by the other crew, was way too conscious of controlling his strength to ever really hurt anyone too badly. The captain, on the other hand, could turn someone into a useless writhing lump of agony by systematically dislocating joints Penguin hadn't even known could be dislocated. Gruesome as severed body parts looked, the powers could at least make it painless.

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36. The Whimsical Captain Trafalgar Law

More Heart Pirates stuff though would feature some of the allied crews as well. This is actually a series/multi-chaptered (or would be).

A Heart Pirates adventure fic where they all go along with their captain's whims all while trying to figure him out. His crew is so used to it they barely even flinch anymore.

Not to say they understand him because who knows what goes inside their captain's head. In fact, they debate that sometimes (a lot of times) the crew being divided among those who think Law has got a plan and those who think he's winging it (often switching really).

"You can't possibly tell me there's some sort of plan behind this."

More than half of the crew looked a bit skeptical, the rest looked defensive.

Clione held up his hands. "Hey, I'm not complaining. I'll follow the captain wherever same as you. But you gotta admit that there isn't always a method to his madness. He really does do things on a whim."

"I disagree. The captain's just saying that but he knows what he's doing. Pretty sure there's a reason behind all his actions..." Protests started, so Penguin amended, "...that isn't just him being a bastard on purpose because he hates someone. Which is a pretty valid reason since we are pirates."

"How about that time we raided the flour factory?" Ikkaku asked.

Penguin's reply came immediately. "Discreet incendiary." A beat. "...also he hates bread."

Before they could celebrate, Shachi interrupted, "His dislike of bread counts as a reason and since it's incidental it doesn't count as a whim."

With narrowed eyes, Clione tried again. "The monastery? Dressing up as monks."

"Medicinal plant in the courtyard bred by this one priest."

"Marineford?"

"Allowed us to get intel and allies."

"And the emergency operations without anesthesia?"

"Possible drug interaction. Emporio Ivankov and their hormone powers."

So continued their back and forth. By the end of it, Penguin and Shachi looked way too smug. Truthfully, they both agreed Law was more impulsive than he let on, often unaware of it himself. But they knew the man they chose to follow always had a plan and purpose (though not necessarily present at the start, but semantics)

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55. Marine Pet AU

Haha... Another one of those difficult to explain ones. Starring the Marines (particularly the original three admirals and Sengoku), and the Shichibukai.

Uhm... So everything's the same except the Shichibukai aren't pirates. They're animals. That's it.

It starts with a wayward flamingo wearing eyewear harassing officers near one of their HQs. Also the Marines need to improve their public image. For some reason, the best they came up with is to get a mascot. Hitting two birds with one stone. (Except they can't really hit the bird. They tried)

So the Marines build a zoo or a habitat. Here are the only types of pirates the World Government can tolerate. Aren't they cute and fluffy?

The public eat it all up. It's popular so now they have to commit. And really, these animals become so important their safety and wellbeing become the higher-ups' problem.

Kizaru is having fun. Aokiji is resigned. Akainu tries (he doesn't quite know what but he'll do what's best for the Marines even if that's getting that damn flamingo away from the reptile enclosure for the tenth time that week on a Tuesday.)

Will feature other marines as well as all of the Shichibukai. All of them.

He checked the schedule and sighed deeply.

Boa, Doflamingo, Mihawk.

He had the most troublesome ones. Briefly, he contemplated just letting his subordinates handle them but quickly scrapped the idea.

He wouldn't say these animals were attached to him and the other admirals but they got more difficult to handle the lower the rank as though these creatures' egos get ruffled. It wasn't a matter of ability. It was perhaps more accurate to say that they had respect. A modicum of it.

It should be Boa's feeding time. Another sigh escaped him as he headed towards the grooming room, a room specifically made to groom Boa's food.

It took them a while to figure out the snake's preferred diet but they found it out when a stray kitten had snuck in and Boa swooped in to swallow it whole. From there they determined that she would only eat cute animals--any less adorable and she doesn't even look at it. So puppies and kittens. And maybe bunny rabbits. Which was bad from a PR perspective so they've taken to grooming rats. Put a nice lovely ribbon and brushed them so they're all fluffy.

He entered the grooming room and one of the officers assigned there took a quick look at him, glanced down the rat they were grooming, then burst to tears (they tended to get attached.) He pressed his hand to his head letting the ice cool down his budding headache. Why couldn't he have gotten Jinbe?

Thank you for playing. :)

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plumoh · 3 years

Text

[Yuumori] tethering touch

Rating: G

Word count: 1846

Summary: “Sherlock's soft and long fingers don't shake in the slightest when he touches William's hair, brushing aside uneven bangs that were covering the scar of his eye.” A touch, no words, and trust. / pre-chapter 57.

Note: AO3 link. The fic is set right before chapter 57, during the timeskip, and was written before the release of chapter 62.

The window is open.

A carriage drives at a brisk pace and causes someone to hurl half-shouted insults at it, probably due to its close proximity to the sidewalk. A dog barks, terrified, while its owner murmurs reassurances. The cries of children running around and playing games travel from one street to another, clear and innocent.

The wind blows gently against the thin curtains; the weather is nice, a good day to take a walk and enjoy tea outside to relax.

The second chair at the table scrapes on the wooden floor, and Sherlock winces as he lets himself drop into it without grace. He at least had the forethought to put his mug of coffee on the table beforehand; William wouldn’t have cleaned the stains for the third time in as many days.

“It’s too early for chairs to make that much noise,” Sherlock mutters.

“Perhaps yanking on a chair without lifting it from the floor isn’t the right way to sit,” William says, the corner of his lips curling upwards.

Sherlock shrugs, his face giving no hint of a change in behavior in the foreseeable future. William thinks he can manage watching chairs being poorly treated for a while longer, since a month or two are meaningless compared to three years of cohabitation.

“Did you leave the window open all night?” William asks, glancing at the slightly damp ledge that got rained on during the night.

“I smoked too much last night, I figured it wouldn’t be pleasant to walk into the living room with that stench in the morning.”

It tugs at William’s heart, a gentle grip that can turn forceful any time. No matter how long he spends observing Sherlock, no matter what truths and secrets they’ve told each other, one way or another William finds himself always, always surprised at small gestures and reasonings that make up Sherlock’s strange character. He’s grown over these past three years—they both have, though not everyone would be satisfied with whom they’ve become, most likely. But they are the only judges of themselves, uncaring of the opinion of others.

But it is unlike Sherlock to forget something as basic as opening the window when he smokes. William stares at him, searching for a sign of discomfort or doubt that wasn’t apparent the night before. There is a small crease between Sherlock’s brows, pinching his face into an expression of both focus and concern that hardly belongs on these cocky features allowing nobody to think he’s hesitant.

William brings his cup of tea to his lips, carefully, biding his time.

“I was under the impression your habits have improved, and that you have been smoking less in the last few months,” William says. “Did you get enough sleep this week? We could re-institute our nightly games of chess, if it helps you relax.”

Sherlock, mirroring William in a deliberate and casual gesture, sips his coffee and stays silent. His gaze never leaves William’s, assessing and critical, like he’s expecting to be teared open from the inside out if he lets too many emotions slip through his fake calmness. William smiles at the thought behind his cup.

"Of course, I don't believe that losing to me every night would give you the desired effect. Your brilliant mind needs rest, too."

"You have a way with words that makes me wonder if I should be amazed or frustrated, Liam."

Sherlock puts down his mug and sighs deeply, throwing his head back and staring at the ceiling. William places his cup on its saucer, and gets up. He pushes back his chair like he's handling something precious, his gaze focused on where his feet are and what his hands are gripping to avoid stumbling, then he makes his way around the table to stand next to Sherlock. Sherlock cuts a glance at him, half-sprawled on his chair and half-stiff with unnecessary worry.

"I'm not saying this lightly, when I suggest you should let your mind rest," William says in a low voice. "You are filling your head with cumbersome thoughts that have no reason to exist in the first place."

William doesn’t understand why the air is so heavy with doubt this morning, so stifling when they’ve agreed on the plan a long time ago already. Being overwhelmed with the panicked need to back down at the last second before the act is not an option permitted in the life they’ve chosen to live; they go through with their decisions and succeed. Failure is rarely brought onto the table, because they can’t afford to fail.

Sherlock’s body relaxes ever the slightest upon hearing William’s words.

“You’re right,” Sherlock whispers. “I just have to act like I always do.”

William smiles. “I’m sure three years aren’t long enough for you to forget how to act around your brother and the MI6. You’re still the same.”

Wild, unpredictable and straightforward Sherlock Holmes—a person that slips through people’s fingers when they think they have him in their palms, someone that uses flamboyant methods to get out of unpleasant situations. His words are sharp and awkward in their honesty, grazing at skins without the intention of hurting, but he’s too earnest. William is nothing like Sherlock at all, from their opposite dressing styles to their obvious different way of thinking, and yet.

And yet, William shares half of his mind with Sherlock, and Sherlock listens to him.

William slides a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder, feathery-like touch leaving behind trails of phantom strokes. He smoothes a wrinkle here, dusts off a spot there, then pulls lightly on the shirt’s collar, prying it open easily without a tie holding it together. The underlying message doesn't go unnoticed, judging by Sherlock's soft laugh. When he looks at Sherlock’s face, William finds hawk eyes watching him with rapt attention, scrutinizing him like he’s harboring all the unresolved wonders of the world.

“Well, mostly the same,” Sherlock points out with a grin. “My tie’s in the bedroom. I’ll get it later.”

“You will make a lasting impression, I’m sure.”

“Yes, reappearing three years later with a tie strangling me will do that.”

A laugh escapes William’s throat, and Sherlock keeps looking at him like he will never tire of watching the blooming of roses. Sherlock shouldn't make this kind of expression; he should know better than to let such naked feelings dance on his face and in his eyes, hiding none of the bizarre, fiery affection he's nurtured over the years for William. It's a dangerous train of thought that William lets fester in a corner of his mind without doing much about it—maybe when it fully takes root and can't be plucked off anymore, then William will acknowledge it and will no longer run away.

Sherlock wrenches his gaze away and glances at the table. William follows his movements and watches him pick up the abandoned black eyepatch next to the tea pot, pinching it gently by the thin strap.

There are no words exchanged. William withdraws his hand from Sherlock's collar, and Sherlock rises on his feet with a smile. His soft and long fingers don't shake in the slightest when he touches William's hair, brushing aside uneven bangs that were covering the scar of his eye. The scar is an ugly thing, a mess of tissue and discolored skin surrounding the hole where his eye should be, but they've never been one to flinch at the physical manifestations of the cruel trials of life. There is warmth oozing from this gesture, as quick as it is intense. The two of them are not people who are used to the touch of others, preferring the cold and grounding sensation of a weapon held in their hands. In spite of it, William closes his good eye.

It's permission as much as it is curiosity. How long will they keep doing this, allowing small acts of service and reveling in the peace they bring, without ever addressing the meaning behind them? William isn't one to let anyone stand so close to him, at a distance where any threat is invisible and any counter-attack is ill-timed. Sherlock could grab him by the sides of his head and hurt him, and William wouldn't be able to stop him. In another world, where their shared future is written in stone, it could have happened. They could have been facing each other like this, silent as a tomb, following the script of a justice punishing all criminals equally, one of them delivering it and the other accepting it.

But it isn't that harsh and implacable reality. In the world they live in, William feels the eyepatch placed over his eye, the two ends of the strap traveling behind his head to be tied together. Never once does he stop sensing the warmth of Sherlock and his hands. They are close enough they can hear each other's heartbeat; one second passes, then two, and then three, and Sherlock's fingers are still in William's hair. A careful and tender pressure, a steady touch he savors.

"I could do this with my eyes closed," Sherlock says quietly.

He slowly, slowly extracts his fingers from William's hair and lets one hand linger on his cheek. William opens his eye, already knowing what he'd find staring back at him. Sherlock has always been unable to hide his emotions, even in his touch.

"That's good to know," William replies just as calmly. "You can be my two eyes, as well."

"I'm anything you want me to be, anyway."

Sometimes, Sherlock's words are so honest they are hard to parse. Abrasive, frank and sincere—how did such a man end up with someone like William? He caught him, and he's not letting go.

"You are too trusting," William settles on saying.

Sherlock grins. "I trust you as much as you trust me, Liam. Don't forget that."

"That is assuming you know how far my trust in you extends."

"That's because I do know. You haven't left yet."

William chuckles. Bold words coming from a shameless person.

"I suppose I haven't, no," William agrees.

William lifts a hand, and in turn, he cards his fingers through Sherlock's hair, much longer than it was when they first met. He makes it more presentable, less wild, smoothly. Sherlock's eyes are locked on his, like he has nowhere else to look.

Small acts of service that punctuate their shared life, charged with significance they cherish without uttering a word.

"Finish breakfast and go retrieve your tie, Sherly. It's almost time for you to go," William tells him.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll do that. You should get ready too."

They came back to England and are continuing their fight. It leaves no room for hesitation.

William drops his hand. Sherlock does too and smiles at him, and if it were yet another universe, where he isn't a coward, William would have kissed him.

But not yet—this isn't the right time yet. The way they look after each other is enough, for now, and William will protect it, until they are ready.

#sherliam #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot #yuumori #william james moriarty #sherlock holmes #hello i love sherliam and how soft they can be while being emotional disasters #they took my heart and have a vice grip around it

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lordviridis · 3 years

Text

Fictober 26 - Passion

Prompt: Passion

Summary: Aleena has very different views regarding the Empire’s foreign policy than other Sith, and she’s unable to not give her views on it. Late 17 ATC.

Rating: Gen

Tags: political debate, imperial foreign policy sucks

“That’s hardly sustainable! You are just waiting for them to rebel, giving an excuse to park the fleet in orbit and waste everyone’s time and resources.” Aleena’s hand sweeps the air as she’s on the edge of her seat.

“Oh, and what do you suggest? This method has worked for hundreds of other planets.” Kaleb says, seeming much more calm than she was, though still sarcastic.

“Right… and maybe it’s time to evolve. All that I’m saying is that acting like they are second class citizens who don’t deserve anything is going to end badly. There are so many planets that are treated badly by the Republic and you are going to drive even those away.”

“We are not treating them badly.” He leans against the seat, seeming to enjoy himself. She and her big mouth, Zane had invited her along to spend time with his friends and now, now they were arguing about foreign policy. She and her inability not to start a fight. Or a fun debate that Kaleb seemed to think this was.

“What have you done to make them think their life will be better with the Empire than the Republic? Because all I’ve heard is treating them with suspicion and not improving their lives at all.”

“At least we aren’t taking their kids away.”

“Not yet, not until they are old enough to be sent to the Academy. Do you know what they tell about the Sith in the Republic, about the training we go through? That it’s horrible and likely to kill us, that if we survive it, we become monsters incapable of caring about others.”

“I know what the Republic propaganda says about us.” Kaleb’s words are harsh, it seemed that she had hit a sore spot. “But by now they should see that’s not true. They see their kids after school, still being kids.”

“That’s the difference between the Jedi and the Sith, the Jedi tend to take the kids away so young that the parents never see them using their powers. It’s all foreign and probably scary for them. Added to which that nobody is explaining any of this to them. Besides, most people in the Republic have never even met a Jedi in their life. To most Jedi are legends, not real people.”

“Okay, I see your point. I’ll do my best to explain this better to their parents when they are informed about their children’s talents. It’s just so odd that people in the Republic don’t deal with Jedi more often.”

“It’s just very different. The amount of effort Jedi on Lothal put into being integrated with the locals, it’s a lot. Helping with the farms, at the clicic, being helpful in other ways. All the while teaching the apprentices how to act around non-Jedi. It is mutually beneficial, but a rare situation in the Republic. Meanwhile everyone in the Empire can name a Sith, has probably seen one. We are planetary governors, military commanders, heroes, rulers, everyone can name a Sith, because we are present in their lives.” Not necessarily for the best, but still present.

“Aleena, why aren’t you in Diplomacy? You seem to care a lot about this and if we were able to use this information, well it would save a lot of resources.” She and Kaleb turn to Yâna. They hadn’t even realised he’d been listening to them.

“It’s just not for me. I tried it, but I ran into Aleusis and it was a disaster. Rather not repeat that. Besides, I’m busy with the Academy.”

“There’s more to diplomacy than just negotiations. Even if you did it just for one day. I’m sure your Overseer would agree to it if contacted by someone high enough in Diplomacy.”

“Think it would matter with Ravage in charge?”

“Well… we all know how Councillors come and go.” She knew few others who shared that sentiment, but it still seemed overly optimistic.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to talk to someone about all this.” It would make life better for all of them if the new people under Imperial rule were treated fairly and the resources went to better use.

#kat goes fictober 2021 #oc:aleena

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fascinatedhelix · 4 years

Text

Some updates to the HK/NSR crossover AU, since the original was made pre-release (the following does contain spoilers!):

Ghost

Ran away from the Trankil Adoption Agency due to finding most humans too restrictive on their freedom; they’re accustomed to being able to come and go as they please, and the agency doesn’t really approve of trankil running around unattended. BBJ are more relaxed about it, leading to the little one being along the lines of a latchkey trankil.

Mayday and Zuke earn their trust by buying them food and helping them clean up in the restaurant’s bathroom, rather than just grabbing them and dragging them back to the agency. Aunty, for one, adores them, due to their sweet little face and how eagerly they eat her cooking.

Has pulled a knife on Kliff, multiple times, because he’s creepy as hell and sets off all their alarms, much to the exasperation of Zuke and Mayday. He tries bribing them with toys and snacks up until his betrayal, after which he almost gets stabbed again before BBJ drag Ghost with them to stop the fans.

Zuke doesn’t let them draw their blade in the sewer or on the streets, normally, but he doesn’t necessarily ban them from sharps entirely. He can tell they know how to use them, though he opts to let them use a kitchen knife instead of the haphazard scrap of metal they’ve been swinging around on the streets.

Zam has attempted to conduct interviews with Ghost before, but finds himself mostly just perplexed at their answers. "Okay, I’m looking at what appear to be, uh, hieroglyphics of some kind. I can see something that kind of looks like a rhinoceros beetle head... They’re shaking their head ‘no.’” The little section where he interviews them is nicknamed Ghost Tour.

Comet

They were sleeping in DJ Subatomic Supernova’s apartment at the time of the battle, since he didn’t think he’d need their help. They’re too small to be asked for a whole lot, anyway; he mostly has them around to keep himself company and have someone to talk to (or at, as the case may be).

Their sound energy absorbing powers would probably be enough to deactivate some of NSR’s robots; it comes in handy when the rogue robots are getting in the way of reinstating their guardian as charter.

Their favorite stuffed animal is a toy dolphin that DJSS calls Delphinus, though Comet calls them Splashy when they learn how to write.

As they grow older, their horns begin pointing backward and eventually curling into a similar shape to ram’s horns.

DJSS secretly relishes in the opportunity to have a legacy in the form of taking care of Comet, though he doesn’t know that they are probably more likely to carry his name farther into the future than any drones he sends up to space.

Bunny

They live with Remi, the artist and leader of the Sayu team. He treats them much like a little sibling, in the nice way, and gets them to watch some of the more family-friendly anime he watches; they’re particularly fond of Sailor Moon and Dragon Ball Z, even if they keep dismantling the figures he gets them. They’re much gentler with the plushies, though.

It takes a few weeks of watching Dodo and Sofa work on machinery to get them learning how to build stuff as well as break it. They make it an entire thing when they grow older, working on machinery.

They eventually grow cheek spines, not unlike some depictions of the adult Ghost, and otherwise heavily resemble Hornet as an adult. Much taller than her, though.

Sayu’s kind of reluctant to attack Ghost because they resemble Bunny so much; “You’re too cute to fight!” Zuke doesn’t like the idea of Ghost acting like a trankil shield in fights, but it does help throw off her aim.

Thorn

Yinu’s mom specifically chose the former Broken Vessel because they were the only trankil that expressed any interest in Yinu’s infodumping about classical music. They even responded to questions with head shaking or nodding.

They come to Yinu’s side after her piano breaks, letting go of their fight with Ghost quickly enough; they don’t fault their sibling for doing what they thought was right, even if they don’t understand it, but they believed Yinu needed their support more.

They’re taking violin lessons, as it’s a touch easier to adjust to playing with four fingers on that then on piano. They get pretty good at it as an adult, though in the modern day their playing is a touch mediocre.

After their performance at Yinu’s concert, fighting in her defense with a stolen machete, Yinu’s mom at first grounds Thorn for stealing and playing with sharps, but concedes to put them in a fencing program to “get it out of their system.” They turn out a lot more competent than the instructors were expecting, and intimidate the crap out of their peers. When they’re older they take up a proper swordfighting class.

Yinu does wind up joining them in learning fencing, after her mother gets a recommendation to get her to get more exercise to avoid literally rooting herself to her piano (not an unusual issue for plant folks; they have to move pretty regularly or else they get stuck in one spot and have to be cut out). Her mom worries that she takes to it a touch too eagerly, perhaps because of her relative helplessness.

Thorn acts fairly stoic and polite most of the time, but they can be quite the handful when something piques their interest. They get banned from at least one Renaissance fair due to playing with the swords or poking the roasting pig. Yinu starts covering for them after they start bribing her with extra sweets.

Scotty

Neon J initially treated them like a trainee when he got them, but it quickly slipped into adopted child territory when he realized just how young they were. He did want kids back when he was human, so he took very quickly to the role of adoptive father.

Scotty is very good at learning language and patterns, so they wind up learning English writing pretty quickly for one of their kind. Because of this, Neon J becomes one of the few privy to the nature of the vessels, though he is uncharacteristically quiet about it.

1010 adores Scotty, occasionally posting about them on social media, making them a bit of a fandom darling, though the band does have to put out PSAs about not getting a trankil irresponsibly.

Scotty’s favorite food is cheese tarts and cheese danishes, which they tend to be awarded for good behavior.

Scotty is a very active child; they dance, they run around the mansion, they swim in the pool (and just about any fountain they run across, much to Neon J’s embarrassment), and they can’t be brought within 100 feet of a dog park without trying to pet every animal in the vicinity.

They try their best to comfort their adoptive dad when he’s suffering from phantom pains or flashbacks, though they don’t know the techniques very well. Their usual method is gently patting his hand or leaning against him (among vessels they’d be leaning against each other in large groups, leading to one big cuddle pile; they can’t do it here by themselves, but they’ll sure as hell try).

Much to Neon J’s embarrassment, they become quite the potty mouth (er, hands) when they get older. He’s a sailor, he slips up every now and then!

Riley

The former Greenpath Vessel is rather happy to leave behind the harsh life they lived back in Hallownest, though they find the most success in recounting their old life through art.

Eve tends to be a very dramatic teacher, but quite gentle with her little friend. She couldn’t have asked for a more enthusiastic student, though.

Eve’s quite protective of the little thing; she’s not quite as heartbroken about Zuke’s abandonment due to the company of her apprentice/adopted child, but the thought of them being taken away tends to scare her quite a bit. As such, she tends to spoil them rotten, though they’re still quite sweet.

Riley has a degree of PTSD from their experience in Hallownest; they’re very sensitive to sounds and movement in their peripheral, and have bitten and scratched people on more than one occasion for getting in their bubble without proper warning or consent. Eve’s pretty good about avoiding their blindspot and having her footsteps make noise they can track.

Eve’s among the first to learn about the Lord of Shades and the dream realm due to her teaching her magic painting to Riley. With her help, they created the Dark Mirror, which allows people to enter a sort of waking simulation of the dream realm, though it tends to seriously disorient people not accustomed to messing with reality (musicians tend to do fine, but normal folks? Not so much). It becomes a very useful communication tool when discussing Hallownest and how it functioned.

Sterling

The former Hollow Knight views themselves as deeply indebted to Tatiana, though also viewing her as a friend. She gave them a name, a new purpose, and an opportunity to live again without the constraints of their failed duty; of course they’re going to feel kind of guilty about it.

Only the NSR artists and a few select NSR personnel have seen them in person, and the first thing people tend to notice is their sheer size. Tatiana worries how much renovations will have to be done to accommodate the rest of their kin once they grow up, if they wind up matching their eldest sibling.

They tend to have a reasonably positive relationship with the artists, due to their kindness towards the vessels and generally respectful attitude towards the behemoth of a trankil. DJSS tends to rant about space in their general direction as his idea of small talk, and they tolerate it. He also not so subtly squees when he sees Comet interacting with their elder sibling. Sayu’s team thinks they’re anime hero levels of cool, sword and all, and Bunny tends to agree, trying to challenge them to fight. Yinu’s mom tends to scrutinize them as reference for Thorn’s later growth, though Yinu herself and Thorn tend to climb the adult trankil like a tree for fun. Neon J respects them deeply as a knight and technical prince, though Scotty’s pretty content to try and get them to play when they visit. Eve appreciates their good manners and willingness to listen, and Riley rather likes showing them their drawings.

Tatiana tends to treat Sterling as something of a confidante, due to their quiet nature and strong sense of loyalty. She worries they idolize her a touch too much to be healthy, but knowing what she does about their past, she’s not sure if a human therapist would help.

The wings grew in a couple weeks before the Rock Revolution; evidently they hadn’t developed quite enough to develop them before they had been sealed, leading to serious back troubles during their fight before their rebirth. It was a pretty chaotic affair helping them through their last molt, considering the other trankil who’ve been molting had a lot less to shed.

Tatiana tends to scold Sterling for digging through her old rock cassettes, though she comes to regret it after the whole debacle with BBJ.

Sterling’s way more ruthless than Tatiana asks for or is fully aware of; they tend to take threats to their new life, siblings, and new companions very, very seriously, and god help the poor soul who convinces them to act. Kliff doesn’t last long after the Rock Revolution, because of this, not that anyone notices.

Misc

The vessels were united under the leadership of Ghost to create the Lord of Shades, and upon killing and absorbing the Radiance, they’ve essentially become the collective gods of the Dream Realm as well as the Void and probably Death too. The level of focus and cooperation needed to fully activate these powers is incredibly high, especially after the vessels begin developing individual personalities, so there won’t be any casual appearances of the Shade Lord any time soon.

Vessels don’t need to eat to grow for the first five or six years of their life, as they have a lot of soul energy stored in their bodies from birth to facilitate growth in the Abyss (their “yolk”), but once that’s expended they won’t grow any more until they gain a stable food source and a safe environment to molt, hence why Ghost spent such a long time being so small, despite being the same age as Sterling. While not eating won’t kill them, humans don’t know that.

The average height for an adult vessel is 8 feet, from the bottom of their feet to base of their horns, whereas a newly hatched vessel (like Comet) is about the size of a tennis ball curled up.

People who aren’t accustomed to the otherworldly presence of the trankil tend to freak out when they’re nearby; the sheer emptiness of their eyes, the expressionless faces, the inhuman size and proportions all give anybody not used to it the heebie-jeebies. Of course, Vinyl City locals stopped caring pretty shortly after they first got the trankil.

#crossover nonsense #hollow knight #no straight roads #nsr spoilers

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docsnotes · 3 years

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Views on Cancel Culture, Woke-ness, Political Correctness & Other Related Issues From The Perspective of an Irrelevant Nobody: Why People Think it Helps & Why it Does Not. By Bradley “Holliday” Rozier I had hoped this first post would be a lot more light-hearted, but after an article and the related tweets I read yesterday, I had to write and share this. So, it is roughly November 2017, I decided to join Greenpeace because I felt it would be a great way to put my mind and anxiety to good use. Through the connections I made, I ended up with some really good friends and some people who I thought would be a positive asset to my growth and recovery, but ended up not being so. However, we will get to THAT part later. First I want to say, generally speaking, I am against most everything the “Woke” movement is against, I simply feel that, tactically speaking, it could and should be handled differently.I was born September 9, 1984 at 10 something PM at what was then “University of Florida Medical Center”, but is now called “UF Health Shands” (Named so after William Augustine Shands, fun fact, W. Shands was not a Doctor, but a politician) on 8th street in Jacksonville, Florida. I grew up in culturally and ethnically diverse neighborhood on the northside of town called “Highlands” (named so because it is at a slightly higher elevation than most of the rest of the city) as well as various other places (my biological mother moved, A LOT) so, from an early age, I was presented a multitude of other cultures and backgrounds to embrace and learn from. The most important factor in this point is my Grandmother, Geraldine Rozier, and my Aunt, Donna Ogle. Both of whom drilled two very important lessons. Love your neighbor as yourself. (Mark 12:31) Treat others as you want to be treated. (‎Matthew 7:12) Now, as many of you know, I have particular disdain for organized religion, as more often than not I see it bring out the worst in people, if you doubt my words, wait for the next thing I post. Yet, even I can find value in these teachings. These teachings also come into play with the topic at hand and I feel that this was a necessary preface for what may come out as being exceptionally harsh. I need you to understand: this is all coming from a place of love and compassion, though I understand how this may be hard to believe as this is my first blog post. This morning, as I drank my coffee and smoked my first cigarette of the day, I was reading a Revolver article about Glenn Danzig (who is easily one of my favorite musicians). The article was basically him talking about how punk rock could have never have happened in today’s sociopolitical climate. It received A LOT of hate, but the simple fact is, he was right. Think about this: The Ramones, New York Dolls, The Clash and The Sex Pistols all put out songs that were offencive to some people, however, that was kind of the point. In 1976 the Ramones put out their self titled debut, on this album was a song called “Beat on The Brat” the 6 repeated lines from this song involve beating some annoying kid with a baseball bat. On the 1973 self titled New York Dolls debut there is a track called “Looking For A Kiss” which is about pressuring someone to be intimate with the singer. The Clash, in 1977,again with the self titled debut, has a song called “Protex Blue” which is a song shaming a girl for not being “wholesome” enough. Finally, The Sex Pistols, who’s name alone may be enough to get them cancelled these days, finally straying from the “self titled” trend with their 1977 debut album “Never Mind The Bollocks, Here's The Sex Pistols” had a song called “God Save the Queen” which was about anything except saving the Queen. In today’s world, these bands would have been stopped dead in their tracks and with them, almost 50 years of other artists. Which brings me to what led me to start this and with it, I hope, a dialogue.

The reason people THINK that cancel culture, woke-ness and political correctness works is because it makes THEM feel warm and fuzzy inside. They got to “stand up” for the “little guy”. The reality is these people do this for themselves and that is what I am going to illustrate in the next part. The first point I want to make, which I almost didn’t because I didn’t want to seem nationalist, is the Freedom of Speech. Now, this is often something people mention when trying to explain how “America is the greatest nation on earth.” However, this is not strictly an American right, Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (United Nations General Assembly Resolution 217A - 10DEC1948 Code-A/RES/3/217A) which was voted for by 48 Nations, and 8 nations abstained1 states that Freedom of Expression as a fundamental human right. So, I say this with the full certainty that it is absolutely imperative that ALL people should be allowed to express themselves.

My second point, it is insanely important that we teach ourselves that reality is sometimes offensive. The world does not walk on eggshells and people will be insensitive, it is a simple fact. Preparing our children (and ourselves) for this fact is a quintessential part of life. Now, it would be great if everyone was nice and perfectly well mannered all the time. If you prepare your children for a flat tire you should prepare them for hurt feelings, conversely, it is also a useful tool in teaching children how they should behave by showing them how they should not act. Using a negative to teach a positive can be a very effective method.

Third, let’s talk about being “woke” which will bring us back to one of the people I met through my Greenpeace affiliation who was a negative influence on my life. I have no desire to smear this person, so I will simply refer to her by her initials D.H. I met her at a coffee shop where we met to discuss racism in general, but, primarily in Jacksonville. Our introduction was uneventful, but informative for me. Over the next few months, we would communicate multiple times and meet up at multiple events. At one point she would call me “one of the most ‘woke’ white guys she ever met” which, at the time, I took as a great compliment. As time would pass we would start to disagree on certain things, mostly things of basic morality. The final straw was when a mutual “friend” of ours decided that it was morally acceptable to lie to someone who was going through a catastrophic period in her life. She made a comment that I completely agreed with in the general context, however in this exact situation it was incorrect. She said “He didn’t owe her anything”, which is correct, except for the fact that he broke a promise. I was raised that if you give your word, you honor it. So, yes, he owed her his word, if not,at least an answer as to why he broke it (which was all she wanted). I mention this to say the biggest problem/misconception with ”woke culture” and it is simply this: Being “woke” does not make you a good person. I also would like to point out that being “woke” 75% of the time does not undo the 25% that you are an asshole.In conclusion, the idea that “wokeness” and Cancel Culture will fix the problems of our society is absolute garbage. I feel that the only way we can actually fix things is with a dialogue, not by simply throwing people out when they say things that we don’t agree with. Alienation is not fixing anything, in fact, I would argue that it makes things worse. It is better to extend a hand than slam a door. Thank you for taking time out of your busy day to read this, I hope to see you next time.

1- For (48) - Afghanistan, Argentina, Australia, Belgium, Bolivia, Brazil, Burma, Canada, Chile, China, Colombia, Costa Rica, Cuba, Denmark, Dominican Republic, Ecuador, Egypt, El Salvador, Ethiopia, France, Greece, Guatemala, Haiti, Iceland, India, Iran, Iraq, Lebanon, Liberia, Luxembourg, Mexico, Netherlands, New Zealand, Nicaragua, Norway, Pakistan, Panama, Paraguay, Peru, Philippines, Siam, Sweden, Syria, Turkey, United Kingdom, United States, Uruguay and Venezuela.

Against (0) - Zero

Abstained (8) - Byelorussian SSR, Czechoslovakia, Poland, Saudi Arabia, Ukrainian SSR, South Africa, Soviet Union and Yugoslavia ( artwork is by marisa deroma @marisa_deroma on instagram)

#politically incorrect #cancel culture #woke #politics #law #free speech

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daggerzine · 3 years

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The Simon Provencher interview (by Tom Murphy)

Simon Provencher is perhaps best known for his frenetic and creative guitar work for the post-punk band VICTIME out of Québec. But on March 26, 2021 the musician released his debut EP Mesures via Michel Records. It is six tracks of free jazz collages that bear favorable comparison to the avant-garde compositions of Anthony Braxton as Provencher makes creative and playful use of clarinet, electric guitar, percussion and processing to convey a strong sense of mood and place while making one very aware of aspects of the environment around us we often tune out. In pairing aspects of exploratory jazz and musique concrète, Provencher has given us an album that is both soothing and keeps us grounded in the present. The composer and musician recently answered some questions we presented to him via email about the nature of his music, its inspirations and methods of crafting its elegantly evocative passages.

Dagger Zine (Tom Murphy): Mesures will probably hit some people's ears as akin to a free jazz or spontaneous composition type of record. How did you approach putting together these songs and experimenting with sound compared with maybe how you do with VICTIME?

Simon Provencher: People wouldn’t be wrong in these assumptions at all. Mesures is a record that was written very quickly. I decided to trust my first instincts for much of the record. With VICTIME, our approach has always been more iterative. By that I mean that we’ll loop “embryonic” parts over and over again, slowly changing elements, morphing the composition until we found ourselves happy with how everything sounded together. I’m still very much into this way of writing, but Mesures was a much more immediate affair.

For me, inspiration almost always comes from timbre, usually through loads of guitar pedals. In this case though, I wanted to see what sounds and textures I could get out of the electric guitar without using any external effects or even amplification. Timbre was still my main concern, but in a more subtle way I guess. I slightly detuned the strings and experimented with resonances, chord shapes, finger placement, fingernails, etc. I also “prepared” the guitar: I jammed objects between the strings and tied sewing thread to the strings (if you pinch the thread with slightly wet fingers and slide them around, you get eerie, reverse-like effects).

Enough about me though, another big change was that this record was made remotely with two new collaborators, Elyze Venne-Deshaies (clarinet) and Olivier Fairfield (percussion). Both of them had “carte blanche” (pardon my french) to do whatever they wanted. I can’t speak much to their personal approach to improvisation, but both of them are seasoned veterans and delivered absolutely amazing performances.

D: Some people might think of any kind of music declared experimental is a barrier to its acceptance but your album seems to me very accessible as a form of pure expression. Do you have a sense of why your songs seem so open and, as one reviewer put it, welcoming?

S: I don’t quite know actually. I do agree that the songs have a certain softness to them that was certainly somewhat intentional. When I did the initial guitar parts, I did set out to make something conventionally “beautiful”, or at least “not harsh”. I don’t really have the vocabulary to describe what happened there, but the resonances, repetitions and patterns definitely implied a soft mood from the get go.

I guess this foundation inspired Elyze and Olivier to also play with softer tones, to approach the music with warmth and subtlety in mind. They really “got” the vibe of the music without me ever telling them anything about my intentions. A “shift” of some kind happened when the clarinet parts were added to the drums and guitars. I felt like the mood of the pieces almost completely changed (in a positive way, of course). I think there’s something to the linearity of Elyze and Olivier’s playing, in contrast with the repetitive, hypnotic guitars that gives the music a sense of wandering aimlessness which I really love.

On the audio engineering side, I did intentionally mix the songs with a certain softness in mind. We added some warm tape saturation to some of the sounds and carved out a lot of higher frequencies. On the songs with feedback and noise, Simon Labelle, who mastered the record, made it so that when the clarinets get louder, the high-frequency content ducks out of the way a little bit. This nifty little trick does help out a lot with making the noisy songs more warm and inviting too.

D: Listening through the album I found it resonated with the albums of Anthony Braxton and Ornette Coleman. The former of which never considered his music part of jazz though he is often associated with that form of music and the latter who expanded the range, dynamics and tonal choices of jazz. Were you inspired by in any way by those forms of abstract yet emotionally expressive music? How might you describe its impact on what you've done?

S: I totally was! I discovered Anthony Braxton through Québec jazz guitar great René Lussier. I’ve been a fan of Le Trésor de la Langue for a while and I got into his back catalog last year: his collaborations with Fred Frith, EAI stuff and more, some of which was released on “Les Disques Victo”. “Victo” stands for Victoriaville, a small city between Quebec and Montreal, where there’s a great contemporary music festival named FIMAV. Shamefully, I haven’t actually been to FIMAV yet, but I’ve loved finding recordings of some amazing concerts, a favourite being Anthony Braxton and Derek Bailey’s 1987 Moment Précieux. I was amazed to find out about this rich local history of musical experimentation and improvisation. This record was very much inspired by the whole FIMAV sound.

Coleman is another great point of reference. His records and those of his collaborators, Don Cherry being another big one, all are major inspirations. As a guitar player, I especially got into James “Blood” Ulmer’s career. I really admire his approach to guitar and the immediacy and expressiveness of his music.

I’m probably paraphrasing it all wrong, but Don Cherry said of Ornette Coleman’s “harmolodic” approach that instead of improvising from chords, like in bebop, you’d start with melodies and improvise to create new forms, harmonies, rhythms to try and reach a certain “brilliance” as he calls it. You’d try to make the music transcend. In harmolodic theory, melody, rhythm and harmony are treated as equals, no solos, no lead and accompaniment dichotomy, no strict timing, scale or tonality.

This is both quite simple but also quite hard to actually grasp in a musical setting, and I’m far from mastering any of it, nor is it necessarily something I strive for, but it is an inspiring way to conceive improvised music for sure.

D: The first half of the album you make great use of what sounds like atonal melodies yet they perfectly convey the mood and lend a sense of texture. What informed employing those sounds in the songwriting?

S: I’ve always written music without much regard for tonality, key, etc. My musical background is still very much anchored in No Wave and noise music, where skronky chords and weird, unstable melodies are the norm rather than the exception. When playing, I really don’t think much about it, I follow what sounds good to me in the moment.

Looking back on the recorded music though, I feel like there is a lot of nuance to be found in atonality and imperfection. Detuned chords ringing out have such complex and interesting decaying resonances, you can almost hear the frequencies battling each other. These interactions between notes and lines that fall just short of resolving are part of the magic and intrigue of abstract music. In the case of Mesures, I think there’s something special with how some of the atonal, out of tune textures and weird synths clash beautifully with the in-tune clarinet parts, making either one “pop out” depending on where you focus your attention.

D: The second half or at least the second three songs on the album use processed drones and what some might call noise underneath or in the background, although very much a presence in the mix, of the clarinets? What do you feel this almost contrast in sounds conveyed that say a more conventional arrangement might not?

The second half of the record is basically a rearrangement of the first three songs. There’s four clarinet parts in there! On the first side, they fade in and out of focus, but on side B, everything is there all at once.

This is basically the result of me simply “soloing” the clarinet takes in my DAW (Digital Audio Workstation, the software used to arrange and mix the music). When I heard the four clarinets at once, I really fell in love with the sound.

So I knew I wanted this to be the focal point of the rearrangement, and I knew I wanted to add something. I just happened to be working with feedback that week, so it kind of fell in place. Feedback manipulation was a technical interest first, I had gotten a new guitar pedal called a Feedback Looper, which sends some of your output signal back into the input of a series of pedals. This creates self-oscillating and rich, detailed noises that are somewhat interactive and malleable. By turning some knobs and flicking some switches on ordinary guitar pedals, you end up with an infinite amount of possible glitches and shrieking high frequency tones.

I don’t know if my ears got accustomed to it or what, but I’ve come to really enjoy the sound of this process. I also really love the tactile aspect of it, it feels kind of like an unpredictable modular synthesizer. When I had recorded the feedback improvisation, which I did in one single take, I thought this sparse, harsh rearrangement was a nice contrast with the more warm, conventional first three songs. At that point, the record felt complete.

D: The final three songs also remind me of Philip Glass in his soundtrack work wherein he mixes the playful and flowing with the dissonant. How would you say these sounds complement each other in your own music?

S: Especially on this release, while there are a lot of sounds that are contrasting with each other, I also feel like there is a sense of shared directionality. The song Et quart is a good example of this. The high feedback notes start out in almost complete opposition to the meandering low clarinet lines, but, as the song progresses, the sounds somehow seem to merge with each other and they end up flowing in the same direction for the song’s climax.

D: What are some other artists operating now that you find interesting and/or inspirational and resonant with what you're doing?

There’s way too many to name them all, but I’ll try! I think there’s a very interesting local-ish scene around me. I admire the work of N NAO, either her solo releases or her collaborations with Joni Void. Sarah Pagé does mind-bending music with harp and effects; I’ve had the pleasure of catching her live in Ottawa just before the pandemic started last year. Kara-Lys Coverdale is also a major inspiration, so is Kee Avil, whose live show and guitar playing blew me away.

I also need to shout out my friend (and bandmate) Mathieu A. Seulement, whose end-year list allowed me to catch up on a lot of fantastic new music, including, but not limited to Ana Roxane’s Because of a Flower, Jasmine Guffond’s Microphone Permission, Caterina Barbieri’s Ecstatic Computation and, last but not least, Holly Herndon’s magnificent Proto.

**the three Simon photos were taken by Charlotte Savoie

www.simonprovencher.bandcamp.com

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cat-x-riceball · 4 years

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I love all the fruits basket pairings. I want to give my thoughts on every couple and how well they compliment each other. There's obviously going to be manga spoilers.

Let's start with my favourite couple. I do like all of them, though. These are not my rankings.

Kyo & Tohru: They are just meant to be. As everyone frequently says, Tohru is good for anyone. Because Tohru is just wife material - she knows cooking, likes household chores, isn't selfish and self-centered, cherishes and genuinely cares about the people around her, and extremely loyal to the one person she loves. Whereas, Kyo is the one most suited to her. While everyone, including Kyo, got help from Tohru, Kyo was the one who was by her side whenever she needed someone the most. He helped her get over the facts with her dad and made her realize that her dad wasn't the villain. Despite knowing he would turn into a cat, he hugged her, wrapped up in blankets. Oh boy, that was hot. Not only that, they both emotionally support each other. Their characters might be different but they have a lot similarities, and persons like them would probably get along really well in real life. They do domestic work together. They are both morning persons. They both can cook. They are good listeners. They get flustered a lot and are shy. Oh, my gosh! I really need to stop ranting. I will keep on going about Kyoru. So guys, all in all, Kyoru is a perfect couple.

Haru & Rin: The iconic gothic couple. Gosh, their dressing style is fab. I read somewhere in the extra of the author of furuba that Hatsuharu picked up these kind of fashion sense from Rin, before that he used to dress up like Kyo - like wear hoodies, t-shirts and sneakers. That's how much Rin influenced him. On the other hand, Rin started liking accessories made by Haru. I love their influence on each other. Plus, Rin and Haru would do anything for each other. Haru is a natural kind and gentle person, except when he goes Black. Whereas, Rin has a very sharp tongue, but still cares about Haru the most. Rin is probably the best to keep Haru in check since he is a space cadet, god knows what he thinks all the time. On the contrary, Haru is the best to be by Rin's side. As everyone Rin had in her life thought of her as a burden, Haru genuinely cares about her and is stubborn to not her go - that is the exact thing Rin needed. Not to mention, Haru is the type to donate everything to others and Rin is the type to not share anything. Therefore, they balance each other out perfectly.

Yuki & Machi: A messy, sweet couple. They are both so unhygienic, it's hilarious. They compliment each other perfectly. One has a sassy mouth, and another has a sharp tongue. God bless their child! Their understanding is very cool, too. Machi is one of those very few people who saw through Yuki - his loneliness and insecurities. We can see in chapter 136 that Machi is someone who gets insecure with her boyfriend but doesn't try to show it, which is very normal. I mean, if my boyfriend was that good-looking and charming, I probably would handcuff him with myself. On the other hand, the way Yuki expresses his love for Machi is so adorable. When he broke that perfect box of chalk for Machi, I was triumphed with delight. Not to mention, Mogeta is a bridge between their love. I love these two together.

Hiro & Kisa: Young love is beautiful - as long as Akito doesn't interfere. Hiro is a complete jerk, no arguments about that. But I love his personality completely flips when Kisa is there. I laughed my head off in the scene where Momiji texted Hiro for coming to the summer getaway and Hiro was bad-mouthing it, but as soon as Kisa said she wanted to go, he agreed almost immediately. Kisa is a sweet angel; she needs someone like Hiro who would fulfill her needs without getting bothered about it. As we have seen, Hiro is very caring for those he loves - his little sister, mom and Rin. Although, Hiro and Kisa might have some fights occasionally since Hiro has a trash mouth, he crosses the line sometimes. But in the end, they both will apologize for the mistakes and solve it.

Hatori & Mayu: Spring comes when snow melts. Kana is definitely someone who Hatori will never forget, neither will he replace her with Mayu. Mayu has created her own special place in his heart, she warmed his frozen heart once again in her own way. At first, I just wanted someone to love Hatori, no matter who it was - because that guy deserves all the love in the world. But Mayu is perfect for him. She can deal with almost any situation given that she is a high school teacher. Plus, she can understand people well as she deals with problematic children all the time - Kyo, Momiji and Haru. She definitely will understand Hatori and is qualified to be by his side. What to say about Hatori? He's already perfect. I'm glad that Mayu's unrequitable love become true and Hatori's empty heart was once again occupied.

Kureno & Arisa: Age is just a number. I admit their age gap is kinda weird, but its pretty common in the place I live in. I don't really mind as long as there is true love. They fell in love quiet earlier than others, it was fast-paced. It was a mutual love at first sight. Who doesn't love that? If I were to find any similarities between these two, I find nothing too spectacular - they are both dedicated people. Arisa is kinda rowdy, not feminine. On the other hand, Kureno is calm, quiet and the type to go along with anything. Arisa doesn't put up with anything, and Kureno put up with Akito - the worse person to be with. I think their relationship would go really well because Kureno has handled Akito's temper-tantrums for years, so he definitely can deal with Arisa. Also, Arisa would go well with him since he is basically a Tohru to her. They have their dynamics, but in the end, love wins.

Ritsu & Mitchan: When you add two negatives, it becomes positive. Both of them were pretty down towards themselves and were prone to commit suicide. But now having each other in their lives, I'm pretty sure, the thought of dying rarely crosses their minds. As Tohru said, the world doesn't need anybody, it's the people who need each other. They both give reasons to each other to live, that's why they are well-suited. Ritsu and Mitchan are both chaotic, it's ridiculous to watch their panicked reaction in sync. They are pretty shy as well. It's pretty cute. We didn't get to see much of them in the manga and anime so far, I hope we learn how their relationship went. I'm sure they will grow to be more confident.

Shigure & Akito: Jealousy is both love and hate at the same time - that's the exact case with these two. They both hated each other for jealousy because they loved each other - also called complicated relationship problem. I think the method Shigure used to get Akito back was pretty harsh and vengeful, but it serves Akito right for treating the other zodiacs so horribly like they were toys. The thing that bothers me most is - Shigure loved Akito even before seeing her. Its pretty messed up if you ask me. But I'm glad, at the end of the series, they both solved their issues and became dedicated to each other, instead of playing around. But Shigure, you seriously need to stop flirting with other females, otherwise I won't be surprised if Akito divorces you or pushes you off the second floor.

Ayame & Mine: The nonsensical duo. Someone who can handle Ayame is god-tier, trust me. As we all know, Ayame lives in his own little, fantasy world. I'm very curious to know - how did someone like Ayame fell in love? How did he even notice Mine when all he looks at is himself? We will never know. But as long as there is someone out there who can love him, it's all fine. Mine is pretty level-headed and just as crazy as him. She can go along with his crazy, nonsensical ideas. Plus, they are both into creating things. What could be better than having the same interests as your partner? You will never lack a topic to talk about. And it seems Ayame is pretty understanding of Mine. Not to mention, when Ayame told Mine that he was born into this world to love her, I screamed with tears rolling down my eyes - that chapter was emotional as fuck, alright? All in all, I love these crazy duo.

Kazuma & Hanajima: I can't imagine this ship sailing. I love them both individually. I do not ship them. I can't picture Hana-chan as Kyo's mother when Kyo is probably older than her - although it would be hilarious to see them as mother-son duo. If you connect the dots, Tohru would be her daughter-in-law. Hanajima would be triumphed about that. We still don't know how Shisho feels about it. He probably would never marry, considering that might hurt Kyo's fragile heart or so he thinks. But who knows? I love them both as individuals. Hana-chan is gothic fab, and Kazuma is the best fucking dad in the whole series. But if the author wants them together, I won't actually hate it. It's okay, I suppose. As you all know, age is just a number and jail is just a room.

That's it for all the ships. Have I missed any? Do tell me.

I feel bad for Momiji and Kagura. We didn't get to know about their respective partners in the original manga. That's what happens when you fall in love with the main two protagonist 🤦🏻‍♀️

I don't really care much about Kagura because I know she will found someone suitable - I do pity that guy. He would get beaten to death everyday like Kyo.

Momiji needs to find someone who will appreciate his angelic heart and treasure him. I hope he finds someone even better than Tohru - someone better than Tohru might be impossible as she is one of a kind - at least, someone who loves him truly.

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antiquecompass · 5 years

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Fic: Signed, Sealed, Delivered

For Xichen Week Day 2 I picked ‘soulmate’ out of the prompts and took a jaunty little stroll back to the Winter King and Wizard Jiang in Journeys ‘verse

“You should consider yourself very lucky,” his mother said. “Few in this world have soulmates, even rarer still is for that mate to be found. And you have found yours in the Winter King.” She turned her eyes from the waters of their home, her fingers clenched around her arms. “And your betrothed is also your soulmate. And you two have a mutual attraction and affection for each other. So what, exactly, causes your hesitation? The Elders asked if you had any reservations. What could they possibly be?”

Jiang Cheng did not want to say it was fear, because it wasn’t. Nor was it caution. He wanted to accept the Winter King’s invitation, to stay and study at the Cloud Recesses for a turn of the sun. To learn more of the Winter Court where he would one day dwell. To learn more of the Sidhe that he--that he--it was still too early to say love. Still too new. Still too unknown.

“I suppose I am nervous,” he admitted.

His mother scoffed. “You are Jiang Cheng. You are born of Wizard and Siren stock. You bow to no one unless you choose to do so and you demand respect with your name and your power. You are the Winter King’s Chosen. To insult you is to insult the Crown of the Winter Court.”

“I don’t care about the Winter Court,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Good,” his mother said.

“I do care about Lan Xichen, and how I could be a disappointment to him, or the image he holds of me in his head. We have been acquaintances. We have been betrothed. We have exchanged letters and elemental messengers. And yet, in so many ways, we are strangers. We don’t know each other as partners. As the people beyond our titles. I don’t want to be a disappointment to him.”

“You will disappoint him if you refuse his invitation,” his mother stated. “And he may take it as a firm rejection.” She cupped his cheek. “You are much like your mother, my sea star, and though your eyes tell of your heart, the rest of you can be far harder to read.”

“I do not reject him,” Jiang Cheng said. He shook his head at the very idea. “Nor would I ever wish to do such a thing, but he’s a king and I am me.”

His mother grasped his chin tight, purple lightning dancing on her fingers, calling his own Siren magic, calling it up, calling it out, until it pulsed awake and alive across his skin.

“You are magnificent. The best that has ever come or will ever come from a Wizard and a Siren. I do not raise mediocre sons. Let the world think you’re nothing but a standard wizard, but we know the truth. The water calls to us, grants us its powers, and it loves you more than any raised outside the Sacred Seas in a very long time.”

Jiang Cheng nodded as his power filled him with the familiar warmth of his magic, a comfort since his youth.

“I will draft the letter of my acceptance tonight,” he said.

“Good,” his mother said, standing back, and finally letting him go. She turned, her magic causing ripples to shiver through the surrounding water.

Jiang Cheng let his power run over his fingers as he thought about their situation. It should’ve made things easier, he supposed, knowing his soulmate. Knowing he was a good, honorable person who genuinely cared about his family and his people. Knowing something and experiencing it were two very different beasts. They weren’t soul-bonded yet. It would take a decade, at the very least, of close contact before they could mindspeak. Knowing Xichen was his soulmate didn’t stop the nerves or the second guessing.

Sometimes Jiang Cheng wished he didn’t know. That they could just court each other as they wished, damn all the proper traditions and politics and the like. Damn the expectations and the history of other soulmates, other love matches.

Let them just be themselves. To discover each other at their own pace, at their own time, in their own way.

He couldn’t even respond to Xichen’s invite without having it approved by three different elders.

Jiang Cheng looked down at his hands and then turned his gaze towards the end of the family pier. Inhuman laughter and splashing told him the mer-folk had come for a visit. He looked down at his hands, at the manifestation of his power, and smiled.

Damn the rules.

Even with his worries, Jiang Cheng knew who and what he wanted. And Xichen had addressed the invitation to him before any other in Lotus Pier. He wasn’t going to make him wait any longer.

It would certainly be an unconventional method of delivering a reply, but his soulmate should know all the eccentrics that came with courting a wizard and siren.

***********

“He’s pacing,” Moira said.

“Yes,” Song Lan agreed.

“He’ll mark up the floor if he doesn’t stop,” Moira said.

“Yes,” Xiao Xingchen agreed.

Lan Xichen paid little attention to his cousins and friends as he waited for an answer. Of course he didn’t expect an immediate response. An official visit of one of the Jiang Wizards to the Winter Court, especially his betrothed, would require deliberation and determination. A debate over good omens. Consultations. Politics.

But part of him had hoped Jiang Cheng would’ve sent word that he’d at least received the invitation.

He felt like they’d made progress, since his surprise visit to Lotus Pier last year. Their correspondence had increased dramatically, and he longed for one of those letters now, containing Jiang Cheng’s loose, slanted handwriting and harsh opinions and tangents about life in Lotus Pier.

“Perhaps it did not reach him yet,” Wangji said. “It could’ve been intercepted by his mother or one of the councilors or one of his siblings.”

“Or his dogs,” Moira said. “They could’ve eaten it. Or that brother of his. Wouldn’t put it past the Necromancer.” She laughed. “Your face will freeze like that, Wangji. Stop glaring at me. It’s no one's fault but your own that you saw that Master of Destruction and decided, ‘thank you, Fates. I’ll take this one.’ After trying to kill him, of course.”

“I never--” Wangji cleared his throat. “We started off with a misunderstanding that has long since been corrected.”

“Has it?” Song Lan asked. “Because he’s clearly missing the point of every one of your subtle courting attempts.”

“The Winter King is headed back towards his study,” Xingchen said, drawing everyone back to the matter at hand.

Xichen started walking towards his desk. “Perhaps I should send another invitation. Just in case something did happen. Moira’s right, the dogs do love to scatter his papers. They have to spend most of their time in his office, you know. Poor things aren’t allowed to roam free.” Xichen paused. “Perhaps I should invite the dogs as well.”

“Oh,” Moira said with a shake of her head. “You don’t want to seem too eager, cousin. Give it a day. At the least.”

Xichen was eager, though. But a day. A single day? He could do that, of course. What was a single day in the life of an immortal sidhe?

“I’ll just compose a draft,” Xichen said as he headed towards his desk.

Song Lan gently stopped him with a powdery snowball to the face.

To lesser kings, more concerned with their power than being a good person, it would’ve been a grave insult. To Xichen, who counted Song Lan as someone he could always trust to treat him like Xichen and not the Winter King, it was a cold, if pointed, reminder to breathe.

“I shall take that under advisement,” Xichen said as he wiped snow from his face. He looked down at his light, spring robes. “Now, if you will excuse me, I need to change.”

“He’s going to write another letter,” Moira mumbled.

Xichen would not. Or perhaps he would, but not an invitation. Just a general letter to Jiang Cheng, with the little bit of freedom they were allowed. Xichen was a king and had to be mindful of what he put down in writing, even to Jiang Cheng. Private correspondence remained the source of so many scandals among Sidhe rulers. And yet writing to Jiang Cheng still meant that he got to devote pages to his favorite novels or art or inane things like the weather, the flowers, his brother’s ever-growing collection of rabbits. It wasn’t about land or trade negotiation. And while he did worry that he bore Jiang Cheng with some of his longer letters, Jiang Cheng had assured them that he enjoyed them all.

It made Xichen wish they could’ve known each other as normal lovers and soulmates, rather than the Winter King and his Chosen.

A loud splash in the small lake besides his quarters drew his attention. He gasped when he spotted a face in the water.

A woman emerged, or at least the face of one, neither old nor young, but beautiful in the unattainable way that came to all Mer-folk. Her skin was a pleasing light blue hue and her eyes a shade of violet Xichen had come to associate with Lotus Pier.

“Are you the Winter King?” she asked in a heavily accented, ancient version of the Common Tongue.

“I am,” he said.

She studied him for a moment. “You speak true?”

“Yes,” Xichen said as he knelt beside the lake’s edge.

The mermaid dipped her head back in thanks, dipping underwater before resurfacing again.

“I have a message from the Siren’s Son,” she said.

“Jiang Cheng?” he asked.

She smiled at him, her face turning youthful in its joy. “Yes, they were correct. We do like you for him. He has let you know the truth of him, or some of it.” She pulled a satchel from around her neck. “You may keep it all,” she said. “He crafted it just to transport this message.”

There was spellwork around the purple cloth. It smelled of Jiang Cheng and the material was soft, as if made from his own robes, but it was dry as a bone. A handy bit of magic for a wizard so connected to water.

“I feel like I must give you something in return for your journey,” Xichen said. “You are far from home.”

“I offered,” the mermaid said. “It is an honor to aid the Siren’s Son in his pursuit; to bring his voice to his mate. He already gifted me a song in gratitude.”

She hummed a soft tune and Xichen could imagine Jiang Cheng’s deep, smooth voice singing along to it. It soothed him and he felt calm for the first time in hours.

“Still,” he insisted.

She cast her eyes about and pointed at a patch of snowdrops.

“I will take one of them,” she said.

Xichen nodded as he picked a handful, putting his energy into the ground to re-grow what he had taken and then again to preserve his gift in everlasting ice.

“You are kind,” she said as she took the gift. “We approve.”

“Thank you,” he said before wishing her well.

In the privacy of his quarters he was finally able to open the pouch. Inside was a letter, sealed with the symbol lotus blossom pressed into deep purple wax. It was covered in a sort of spellwork Xichen had never encountered before. His fingers pressed over the familiar image on the seal and the letter immediately unfolded in his lap. It was blank inside, but then, as Xichen touched the paper again, a burst of purple light overtook the pages.

Xichen gasped as Jiang Cheng’s voice sounded in his room.

“I am not always skilled with words,” Jiang Cheng’s voice told him. “And I felt that if I wrote a reply it would become so practiced and revised so many times that I would make you think it wasn’t even written by my hand. Xichen I am honored to accept your invitation to stay in your realm. I long to see the home that shall one day become mine as well. To learn of it and its people. To learn of you.” He sighed. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have said that, perhaps it is too much, but I want to know you, everything about you, as the Winter King and as my soulmate. If you’ll still allow me such an honor, of course. The official reply should be there in the morning, but I couldn’t keep you waiting any longer. I know how restless I would be in your place and I hope you would feel the same.”

“I do,” Xichen said, heart full and pounding, smile wide as the purple light of the letter started to flicker.

“I am eager to see you again,” Jiang Cheng said. “And I send my warmest regards to you, your family, and your realm.”

The light went out then and Xichen was sad the spell was done. He sighed as he picked the paper up again, only for the light to burst across the paper once more, only for Jiang Cheng’s voice to repeat. A message for him from his soulmate, forever captured.

“He is so clever,” Xichen said as he folded the paper, careful to keep his fingers to the outside and not the inside.

The wax seal redid itself once the ends of the page met. Xichen carefully wrapped it back inside its purple cloth and cradled it to his chest.

#xicheng #xichen week 2020 #verse: journeys #fandom: the untamed #my ridic writing #long post #ish

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bestworstcase · 4 years

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how's everyone in bitter snow feel about the justice system in Corona? also how are the guards in bitter snow, how do these people treat their positions as guards?

okay anon you said “everyone” so like

gonna talk specifically about all the character’s perceptions right now, as of chapter 9, because a lot of these feelings evolve over the course of benighted and also the rest of the series 👍

major characters!

cassandra!

she is well aware of the harshness of the system. her own birth parents were executed for their crimes—we’ll get more into that later >:)—and given who her father is and what her aspirations are, she knows some of the more unsavory details about what guard work can mean. there is a part of her that is… uncomfortable with this, but she rationalizes it as a discomfort related to feeling like she’s trapped in the shadow of the (very serious) crimes for which her parents were executed. she has very much drunk the kool-aid that all of this stuff is correct and just because it’s only being done To Criminals, who of course are not like regular people, who must be protected From Criminals (like her parents, there’s this whole nasty feedback loop of self-disgust going on with this).

she also very much has her dad on a pedestal and doesn’t want to think badly about anything he does, and she wants to make him proud, and in her mind making him proud = succeeding as a guard. so that’s another huge thing tilting her in favor of the coronan justice system.

rapunzel!

i don’t think rapunzel has quite made the connection between the existence of the king’s watch and what they actually do, which is arrest people and feed them into the horrible justice system. she knows that eugene was arrested and nearly hanged, and she doesn’t feel good about that, but she also has not been exposed to this system as a… daily thing with a wider scope than simply being something eugene escaped from. she has a very particular kind of self-centered naivety where it is still hard for her to grasp that people… exist, outside of her life, almost like a lack of object permanence where the concept of Other People is concerned? because she grew up in a tower with nobody but gothel. she’s beginning to develop inklings of this, but it’s not there yet, and with frederic and everyone in the palace actively trying to shelter her from the more upsetting pieces of palace life still, she’s still kind of navigating around obstacles that she can’t see in order to get there.

anyway all of which is to say she’s laboring under the impression that everything in corona is hunky dory. still very much in the homecoming honeymoon phase.

eugene!

eugene is in this weird transitional place where he, by his own actions in the last chapter, has been rather rudely shocked out of his own complacency and now he’s looking around at all the luxuries and privileges he has been granted purely by virtue of being the guy who happened to bring rapunzel home and he’s going: oh. oh i didn’t earn any of this actually.

he knows exactly what corona is like. if you’re a thief in this world you know not to get arrested in corona. and he did get arrested in corona and he came very close to losing his life because of it. for a while there, i think he just fully embraced his pardon and decided to live it up because, well, why not, it’s what he deserves after a lifetime of hard living and fighting to survive… but fundamentally, he’s not an asshole even if he is sometimes an ass, and the more he lets go of the flynn rider persona the more his natural empathy reasserts itself. right now, his focus is on being better for rapunzel, but i think he sort of has in the back of his mind how very, very lucky he got in his brush with the coronan justice system and that inclines him to at least feel… dubious about becoming a cog in it.

lance!

he’s sort of similar to eugene, in that he has this criminal background and he knows exactly what sort of reputation corona has in the criminal world… but there’s also this element of, he’s sort of… adjacent to law enforcement now. thief-takers are sort of like private investigators and sort of like bounty hunters, and they exist in the weird margin between law enforcement and criminal activity and lance has this very personal experience of having been sort of… invited into that space as an opportunity to reform his ways, and that worked for him.

i think he and eugene could probably have a really interesting conversation not too far down the line about how they got out of the thieving business and became better people and ways that could be applied on a broader scale versus just chucking everyone in prison, which i imagine tends to be the default not just in corona but in most countries in this region. lance sees his experiences helping victims of theft as intrinsically linked to his personal decision to never steal again, whereas eugene reformed because rapunzel, specifically, treated him with compassion and dignity. put those two things together and you have a decent platform for a restorative approach to criminal justice.

varian!

varian is a kid. he has no clue about anything but his alchemy lol. i think he probably has a lot of romanticized notions of adventurous thieves in the vein of flynn rider and is accustomed to seeing guards/watchmen as The Enemy through that lens, but he has very very little actual real world experience with either and to him it all has this aura of fiction. it’s something that happens To Other People, not to him.

caine!

caine saw the coronan justice system tear her family apart when she was nine years old, over a petty theft her father committed to feed his starving family. also, she’s saporian, so she has this extra pile of cultural grudges against corona in addition to this personal trauma. she hates corona, and unlike in canon—where the narrative need to make everything About Rapunzel demanded that her motivations be dumbed down—she puts the blame for what happened to her squarely where it belongs, on king frederic’s crackdown and the system backing it. though she’s not a separatist herself, she’s perfectly happy to work with them to attack corona, and she sees her piracy as… sort of a campaign against corona and its allies? in that she targets mostly trading vessels belonging to the seven kingdoms and has definitely liberated coronan prison barges in the past.

as far as she’s concerned corona can just burn. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ up saporia

sirin!

…honestly you’d be hard pressed to find anybody who hates coronan justice more than sirin does because [spoilers lol]. she keeps it on a very tight lock, because she is a pragmatist first and foremost and she isn’t interested in expending her rage on a doomed cause. when she acts on her hatred, she wants it to matter. and she’s also a leader, with a lot of vulnerable people relying on her to keep them safe, so she can’t just lash out the way she might want to if she had no other obligations. so she’s cultivated this very cold, very methodical anger and is proceeding with her plan very carefully but also, definitely enjoyed getting her hands bloody in the prologue.

assorted secondary and minor characters (just the ones i feel like talking about, rip to everyone else)

commander peter!

it is peter’s job to enforce the coronan justice system. fundamentally, he has to agree with it. i think he has this ideal of what justice should be in the back of his mind and he sees all the ways that coronan justice doesn’t line up, and he’s trying his best to close those gaps while working from within the system. he cares very intently about his country and its people, and he firmly believes that he’s working to keep everybody safe—even if it comes at the cost of this harsh, sometimes unfair system.

as part of this, he keeps very high standards of conduct for his watchmen. abuses of power do happen—peter can’t always be watching every single man in his force, and while he ostensibly commands the city watches in the rest of corona’s city’s too, in practice his influence tapers off outside of herzingen simply because of distance—but he tries to stamp them out as best he can.

(there’s definitely a big range within the king’s watch itself vis a vis how the guards approach their work. i think, taken on average, they... are cops. their job is to enforce the system first and foremost and they wouldn’t get into that career if they didn’t believe in it; some try to be more compassionate about it than others and some are just in it for the authority but they’re all... working to serve the system.)

arianna!

she’s both a foreigner originally—she was born and raised in eldora, one of corona’s neighbors—and very well traveled, so she has seen a lot of other models of justice in action and this leads to her taking a dim view of the way corona handles things. i think she and frederic probably have a lot of heated arguments about his crackdown in particular, and it’s one of the biggest points of contention in their marriage. she does often succeed in being a moderating voice, and i imagine she is a vocal proponent for reform not just in corona but in the seven kingdoms generally, but unfortunately she has no real authority in corona (because frederic is the monarch, not her) so her influence in this regard is limited.

frederic!

in contrast to arianna, frederic i think truly believes that cracking down harder on crime is the only way to make it go away. he’s thinking about how a criminal in a jail cell is a criminal who isn’t out on the streets hurting people, rather than thinking about where these criminals are coming from in the first place. he listens to arianna—and to ludolf and peter, who are other moderating voices in this regard—but he also has a very hard time stepping out of this mindset of “we just need to take the bad people and put them somewhere else so the good people will be safe.” in a way, i think he has a very similar mindset to rapunzel in that they both tend to engage in black-and-white thinking, but where rapunzel sees only the good parts of the world, frederic tends to see things in the most bleak light possible.

gilbert!

gilbert is a career military guy in a kingdom with no standing army during a time of peace. this… absolutely has an impact on his approach to domestic justice, and in particular he takes the attitude that criminals and dissidents are The Enemy. he feeds into frederic’s worst impulses and fears because in his mind, frederic is too cowardly to do what must be done to quash The Threat. i think… like frederic a lot of this ultimately comes from a desire to keep corona safe, he’s just jumped fully overboard into not considering the “wrong” sort of coronan part of the country he wants to protect. and then him seeing everything through this military lens is fuel on that fire.

ludolf!

he’s a champion of compassion. he hates the existence of the prison barges and the gallows, but i think he also does not have much in the way of actionable alternatives; he’s has this kind of idealized, almost rapunzel-esque idea that if they just apply a little faith and goodwill then the problems can be solved (and this tends to weaken his stance politically, because he runs into the “well then what do you propose we do” problem; he works best in tandem with someone like arianna or peter, both of whom are details people who can come up with real solutions).

quirin!

having been… sort of? the closest thing aphelion had to law enforcement back in the day, i think he has strong opinions on corona’s system—namely that it’s all wrong—but he keeps them to himself because he’s not one to talk about the past in general and he’s also well aware that in corona, he’s just some peasant and his opinions aren’t wanted. mostly, he tries to keep his head down, keep himself and his kid out of trouble, and focus on preserving the simple life he has constructed for himself.

(in aphelion, i think criminality was dealt with through the moonstone cult—this decayed somewhat over the course of the dedication, as aphelionese people lost their strong connection with the moonstone, but the basic philosophy still remained, and the basic philosophy was “work to understand the root of the problem, then shine the light of truth and understanding on it until the problem reveals its solution”)

adira!

adira very much thinks coronans are all a bit nuts and unlike quirin is not at all shy about voicing this thought when it happens to come up on the rare occasion that she stops being a vagrant long enough to talk to somebody. but that doesn’t happen very often. mostly she’s been too focused on searching for the sundrop and fixing the moonstone to care much about what corona does with its criminals, but also if she were directly asked she’d be like “were you trying to create a criminal assembly line? because that’s what you did” lol

nigel!

i think nigel is a very fearful person in general but this also wars with a degree of practicality. the notion of criminals frightens him but he can also recognize that many people turn to crime out of desperation or fear, and he has a tough time navigating this dissonance. on the whole i think he’d tend to lean toward whoever argued the most reasonably on any specific subject where coronan justice is concerned, which in practice means he ends up aligned with peter a lot—he respects peter’s authoritative experience in dealing with criminals, and peter tends toward this reasonable-sounding, incremental reform approach to the system that speaks to both nigel’s fearfulness and his practical side.

feldspar!

he’s in kind of an uncomfortable situation, in that he is saporian but i don’t think he is particularly open about that fact and would really prefer his coronan neighbors not… know about it. because being saporian, he has a clearer view of how the coronan justice system disadvantages his people and how the crackdown landed especially hard on saporia. i think he lives in perpetual anxiety over the possibility of getting in trouble or being accused of a crime and having his whole life destroyed as a result. also with his friendship with cass, there’s definitely a part of him that wants to just. shake her. until she wakes up to the injustices being done; but he’s far too anxious to actually do something like that so whenever she starts going on about being a guard he’s just kinda like :|

xavier!

as the royal blacksmith and thus supplier of the weapons and armor used by the king’s watch, he has this closeness to the law enforcement side of it that definitely biases him a bit in favor of them; they’re one of his primary customers and biggest sources of business. but also, he’s a very intelligent, very well-read person, and i feel like he spent some time traveling in his youth, so he’s in a similar boat to arianna where he knows for a fact that this is not the only or the best way to do things and he could probably be coaxed into a lengthy conversation about it with the right questions.

#bitter snow #anon i hope you didn't just mean the mains lol bc.#Anonymous

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