#hence the dark line art that I loved so much making a return

[morozyart]

“It’s a crystal. Nothing more. But if you turn it this way and look into it, it will show you your dreams”

[shadyteacup]

Part two of Partners

Tw: None..only some fluff..

A plethora of muffled noises filled your ears. It felt as though you had been under water for as long as you remember, and had just peeked at the surface.  Your eyes were still closed, but you could see a white light above the surface. You push yourself to swim to the edge, towards that light. As you swam closer, the noises became clearer. Louder. It hurt your head. But you had to continue forward. So you pushed yourself to the surface.

Finally opening your eyes, it felt as though you had broken through the surface that was trapping you in a deep slumber. You were no longer under water. The voices became much clearer. You could hear multiple people. Some of whom you recognized.

You took in a deep breath, feeling the crisp air around you.

"Y/N?"

A silky voice said, right next to you.

You peered your eyes open a little more, fighting the sting of the brightness of your surroundings.

You could see a pale ceiling. And smell antiseptic. You were in the hospital.

Looking to your side, you were met with concerned brown orbs.

"Hey.." You smile at him.

All of a sudden, he hugs you. He buries his head in your neck, whispering an almost inaudible, "I almost lost you.."

You froze. You could smell his cologne. It was refreshing. Soft brown hair tickled your face as he stayed like that for a while. You didn't know what to do. You and Dazai have been friends for a really long time, and have hugged before. But this time it felt different. It felt deep and meaningful. You just stayed there, letting the feeling of his warm breath on your neck, his strong arms around your shoulders, and the concerned, timid tone of his voice sink in.

Abruptly pulling back, he stands up straight, facing away from you. Placing his hands in his pockets, he mumbles,

"I'll tell the others."

With that, he was out of the room in an instant.

You were so confused. Did he just hug you? Does he care about you? Did he fear losing you?

And what's this warm feeling? Do you like him?? Well, ofcourse you like him. But does he like you too?

"You're awake!"

Kunikida strides in, followed shortly by Yosano and Ranpo.

"I'm so glad!", Yosano says as she hugs you, kissing your cheek.

You hug her back, smiling at them.

"Hey, guys!"

Ranpo was quietly watching you.

"Hey Ranpo San.. "

He acknowledged you with a nod.

"Is everything ok??", you ask, worried about him.

His green eyes bore into yours.

"I was worried about you. Don't do that again. I missed you."

That was huge coming from him.

"Come here" you open your arms, inviting him for a hug.

You hugged the emerald eyed man child; Yosano forcefully pulling Kunikida along with her to join you guys. You lot bonded over a group hug.

"Y/N San!! Are you OK! I was so worried! I'm so glad you're awake!"

Atsushi rushed into the room, followed by Kyoka and Kenji, hot on his heels.

He and Kenji joined in the hug.The usually conserved Kyoka also jumped into the hug. You kissed their tiny heads, telling them how much you had missed them.

A few moments later, the president walked in, carrying a cup of tea for you. He said that he was glad that you were feeling better. The tea he had gotten had healing qualities, so he pretty much forced it down your throat.

"President, about the case.. What happened?"

The president filled you in.

The girl you two encountered, Sakura Yagami, wasn't the one that was kidnapped. She was an ability user who could mess with minds. She wasn't very experienced, but she had mastered the art of making her opponents see a different face when they saw her, making them believe that she was someone else entirely. Her height and build matched that of the girl that was taken. She used her ability to manipulate your mind, and make you believe that she looked like Aiko, the missing girl.

Sakura had used the help of light and shadows to mask majority of her features. Afterall, the ambush had taken place in a dark, abandoned warehouse, where there were no artificial sources of light. This resulted in half of her features being hidden in the shadows, making it difficult for Dazai, who wasn't affected by her ability, to recognize a different face. Most of the time, Dazai stayed behind Ito and Sakura, and hence never got a chance to properly inspect her facial features.

Meanwhile, Aiko has been kept in some hideout. The ability users will shortly be interviewed, and hopefully, the location of the missing girl will be known.

"I see. So she was the mastermind of the entire fiasco, not Ito."

"Correct."

The president then excused himself, along with Yosano and Ranpo, who had to carry out the interrogation.

Atsushi and Kyoka were forced out by Kunikida, who believed that they would only cause ruckus in here.

"Have you talked to Dazai yet?"

He asked you.

"Yes, and no."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I did get to say hi, but didn't get a chance to say anything more.."

"I see... He was very worried. The most worried, actually."

Oh?

"I'll go get him."

Kunikida left to get Dazai. He didn't return, only sending Dazai to the room.

Dazai walked into the room with a smile, one that didn't reach his eyes.

"Y/N! Don't tell Kunikida, but I stole his glasses "

You giggled.

"You really don't change, do you?"

He grinned boyishly at you.

"Never!"

You hesitate to ask him, but you do anyways.

"Dazai, why were you so worried about me?"

He blinked for a moment, processing what you had asked him, choosing his next words carefully.

"Because you are a valued member of the organization, ofcourse!"

Your heart sank at his words. Maybe you had overthought. Maybe it was just one sided. You had always liked him. He had a certain aura around him that dragged you in. But you were never able to guage whether he liked you back. So you never said anything. You understood him, in a way. The darkness that he tries so hard to hide, is pretty easy to notice for you.

You have been through quite a lot, seen a lot, and have experienced a similar darkness. You used to be a part of that darkness too. But not anymore. Now, you were trying to heal. And so was he. You thought you understood him to a deep level, because you both were going through the same process; the process of healing. But maybe, you were reading a little too much. Maybe, there isn't anything in between the lines. Maybe, he doesn't get you, or maybe you don't get him at all.

"Why do you ask?"

"No reason!", there it was. Your own mask. Dazai was amazing at hiding his emotions behind a façade. But so were you.

"Ne, Dazai, what are you going to do with those glasses? Do you have anything planned? I want to join in the prank!"

You say, grinning at him.

He stays silent, observing your face.

"What are you thinking?"

He moves closer to you, seating himself on the chair next to your bed.

"Y/N.. I.."

His heart was thumping in his chest. It was beating so hard, he felt that at any second, it would jump out and start dancing on the floor.

He had seen your expressions just now. It was just for a split second, but you had let your guard down, and a variety of emotions had run through your eyes. He had seen that. He had seen the slight disappointment in your eyes when he had closed himself up from you.

Nobody understood him the way you did. Whenever he was having a bad day, you would always cheer him up. And not always in a traditional way, either. You could read his feelings. He felt like an open book when you were around. He couldn't hide his thoughts from you, even if he tried. You would accurately gauge what he was feeling, and do whatever you deemed would make him feel good. And it always worked. Sometimes, it was a random walk at 3 am, when he would text you telling you that he couldn't sleep.. Sometimes it was some stupid prank that you would devise, roping him in, and relieving him of the pent up stress he was experiencing. At other times, you would randomly show up at his house, carrying cans of crab, or bottles of sake and beer , distracting him from his dark thoughts. He didn't know how you managed to do that, how you always knew that he needed you, and what you needed to do to make him feel better. He really cherished having you in his life.

He had harbored a crush on you for months now. He hadn't said a word about it, fearing that all you felt for him were friendly feelings. He always held himself back, and had to control his urge to shout his feelings for you from the top of some building. He liked you so much, he knew it was love. Lord, you hadn't even started dating yet! Still, he knew he loved you. You are a unique, amazing person, and he couldn't imagine his life without you in it. So when you were hurt today, when you passed out from the pain, he almost lost it. He couldn't think straight. He doesn't even remember what he did afterwards. All he remembers is thinking ,'Please be ok, please be ok ' on repeat. His sole purpose was to get you to safety. When you had finally gained consciousness, he had let all his guards down. He couldn't help the overflow of relief that flooded his body at that moment. So he hugged you.

He thought that maybe this is the right moment to finally tell you how he truly felt. But what if you don't like him back?

No. He had seen your expressions. You could read him easily, but he could read you too. He knew now, for a fact, that you felt the same way. He had seen it on your face. But what if he's wrong?

Well, one must take a chance to know the result.

"I like you, Y/N."

He finally says.

You look at him wide eyed. Then start laughing.

"You're scaring me."

You wipe your tears.

"No, please don't misunderstand... I like you too! Oh my God, I was so worried! I thought you didn't like me back..."

You continued laughing. Dazai sighed in relief, happy to know that his feelings were reciprocated.

"How long have you liked me, Dazai?"

You ask him.

"How long have you liked me, Y/N?"

He countered.

"Ha! Don't turn the question on me! Answer me, first!"

Dazai stuck his tongue out, shaking his head like a child.

"No way. I bet you have been liking me for over a year now. I'm so charming, afterall!"

You gasp at that.

"Don't tell me.... you've been liking me for months now, haven't you!"

"Hah?? I never said that!"

"Oh, but you made it quite clear!"

"How so?!"

"You said 'you must've liked me for a year'!"

Dazai scoffed.

"That  doesn't prove anything!"

"It does! You tried to quote a time period greater than yours, to seem superior!" You exclaim, pointing your finger at him.

"It's simple psychology. You should know this by now.", you say smugly, smirking at him.

"You're a terrible person reader!"

"Seriously? 'Person reader'? Improve your vocabulary."

"Haah?! You tell me what it's called, then!"

"It doesn't matter what I say! You suck!" You stick your tongue out this time.

You two are children, I swear.

"I suppose you leave me no other choice."

Dazai smirks, leaning closer to you.

"Oh? And what are you going to do exactly? You lost. Accept it-"

He shut you up with a kiss.

Your face flushes a deep red, but you don't miss the light red that coated his cheeks.

"You're blushing!" , you say.

"That's funny coming from you!"

"I'm not blushing, idiot.. "

Dazai pinches your cheeks.

"Aww.. is my baby embarrassed?"

You push his hand away, annoyed at his antics.

"Oh my, you really are embarrassed! How cute of-"

This time, you shut him up. With a kiss. A slightly more heated one.

He just stares at you with wide eyes, a deep red tint on his face.

You smirk at him, proudly announcing your win.

You two continued bickering, until a nurse had forcefully shoved Dazai out, as he wasn't letting you take rest.

[lyntonier]

A train to Paris

Carmen Sandiego x Gray Calloway

Summary: Carmen is taking a break away from her work — helping out at the Orphanage and fighting crime — and decides to take a trip back to Paris, a location she quite enjoyed. During her journey she meets a familiar face she believed she would not see again.

A/N: This is set after season 4.

"So Carms, I hear you are off to Paris for the week huh?"

I smile into the phone, listening to Ivy's comment.

"You heard correct. Well, assuming nothing goes wrong, that is".

I had gotten a break from working at the Orphanage with my Madre, so I decided to take myself on a little trip. We had finally met about eleven months ago, and I had been helping around as much as I possibly could without a break. Well, I tell a lie, I had a couple days free from working with Madre, though I used those days to check for any crime around. I guess some habits die hard huh, this was meant to be my new start but I can't seem to leave fighting crime behind. It was my choice to work so much at the Orphanage though.

Madre had had enough and told me to take a week away and go someplace, so where better than Paris? The beauty of the city when the sun goes down and the lights come on again, the food, the art and architecture, the history, it's simply something I cannot forget. It's truly a once in a lifetime thing.

"Wow, I'm so jealous! I wish I could be there with you, it would be so much fun- Zack stop! Leave Julia alone. No- She probably does NOT appreciate that, so quit it... Yes, you, who else?!.......... Sorry Carms, it's Zach trying to flirt with Julia again".

Giggling at Ivy's scolding to her brother, I make a mental note to tease him about that when I next see him. He kept flirting with the poor woman, to which she would politely laugh and make an excuse to leave.

"No worries Ivy, it's alright. I must admit though, I do feel sorry for Julia in some respects".

"I know right! Gosh, he's so oblivious sometimes. I love him anyway though, no matter how much of a douche brain he is".

"It would be nice to be able to meet up with all of you again, it's been a while since I saw all of you properly. You'll have to let me know when you two both have some time off and I'll get hold of Shadowsan and Player, then we can all have a nice catch-up".

I hear Ivy sigh wistfully into the phone, light laughter leaving her lips.

"Honestly Carms, that seems like such a good idea right about now. I'm so tired with work, I got called out five times within the past two days, three of which were last night. I've not had a nice snooze in for ages and I could do with one right about now, haha."

"You do sound quite tired. When do you get off shift?"

"Uuuh, hold on....... Forty-five minutes, then I can go home".

"Well, you should treat yourself to a warm bubble bath and a long rest".

"I think I'll take that one and do just that. Ah- I've got to shoot, Cheif is calling for me. I'll call you tomorrow and we can talk more, yeah?"

"Yes, wouldn't miss it for the world. Tell the others I said hello for me? And I'll work on arranging a girls trip between you and me to somewhere, just let me know where you fancy going".

"Oh you're a star Carm, I'll be looking forward to that then. I'll decide tonight and let you know tomorrow, and I'll pass on your 'hellos' to the others. Talk soon Carm".

I smile into the phone, mildly disappointed that our conversation had to end so soon.

"Talk soon Ivy".

With that, I hear the beep of an ended call as Ivy hangs up the line. A sudden wave of exhaustion washes over me as I move my phone down to my lap, checking the time. It was 1:15 in the morning. Raising my eyebrows, I nod at my phone, surprised at how late it was. I should probably try to get some sleep as I'll be arriving at my stop in about seven hours from now and I would much prefer to not be falling asleep at every given moment.

Setting my phone down next to myself, I grab a blanket out of my carry bag and drape it over my lap, removing my jumper and folding it into four before placing it onto the seat to my left. Reaching up above myself, I pull a cord that turned off the lights in my little train booth, engulfing myself in darkness. The only form of light that I had at this stage was the gentle light from the moon, it would be full soon. Laying down, I place my head onto my jumper and pull my blanket up higher, closing my eyes and relaxing my body.

Right as I began to doze off, I felt a strange feeling of wariness make itself known in my gut, enticing me to sit up and evaluate my surroundings. Within a couple of seconds of having my eyes open, I heard a light tapping on my booth door. Someone was there. Averting my eyes to the glass section of the door, I keep my body motionless as I trace the figure with my eyes and their every possible movement.

If I stayed still then they would not see me and assume I was sleeping and most likely leave.

*tap, tap, tap*

"Excuse me, uh, I know you are awake.. can I come in? My booth has no heating and it's really cold out here".

Or maybe not.

Cautiously eyeing the door, I slowly raise myself from the seats and brace my hand into a fist, ready to fight off a possible threat. Standing tall, I cautiously step my way over to the door before grasping the cool metal handle with one hand and undoing a lock with the other. Twisting the handle, I edge the door open bit by bit.

"Hello... Um.. yes you may".

It was a man, not that much taller than me, and Australian. Or perhaps Kiwi. I couldn't see many of his facial features, other than the fact that he had a man bun and a couple bags with him. I wracked my brain for any vocal recognitions, however, nothing matched.

Standing aside, I made room for the strange man to come inside.

"Cheers mate, sorry 'bout how odd this is. I went to the train staff to ask about the heating and they told me that the booth I chose was meant to be closed, though the person on duty of closing it off didn't get around to it, hence me choosing the unlucky booth. They told me I would have to ask to share booths with somebody else seen as though all others are booked, and I saw your light go out, so I came here. Sorry and cheers again".

The man laughed, rubbing what I assumed was the back of his neck. His explanation seemed pretty truthful and his reasoning honest.

"That's no problem, sorry that you got a faulty booth, that must've sucked".

"Hah, tell me 'bout it" He joked.

Smiling, I close the door and return to my seat, watching as he put his bags in the overhead luggage area, leaving out a blanket of his own. Smart man.

"So, what's your name mate?"

"Carmen. And you?"

I see him whip his head around, before shaking it and laughing lightly.

"I had a friend called Carmen, though I've not seen her in a long time. My name is Grah-Grayson. Grayson".

I raise my eyebrow at his stutter, smirking lightly.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you Grah-Grayson" I tease.

"Haha, as to you Carmen".

With that, we both fell silent, just basking in the pleasant atmosphere of the booth with the same idea of sleep on our minds.

Slipping back into my 'bed', I pull my blankets back over myself and close my eyes, listening carefully at everything around me. I hear some stuffing around, something dropping on the floor, followed by a second something, more shuffling, then a satisfied sigh. Peering over my shoulder, I see the outline of a body laying on the seat across from mine.

"Did you just take your shoes off?"

"Hm? Ah yeah mate, can't sleep with shoes on, that's just crazy".

Grah-Grayson laughs at his own statement, finding humour in my question.

I feel my lips draw into a thin line as I shuffle my feet around awkwardly, my shoes very much still on.

Am I crazy?

"G'd'night mate, thanks again for letting me in on such short notice".

"No, no, that's fine. Goodnight".

It felt strange saying goodnight to a stranger, though I had most definitely done stranger.

I feel my eyes shoot open rather rapidly, my heart pounding against my ribcage as I scramble to sit upright, taking in my surroundings eagerly before eyeing the strange man in the booth with me. I check the room once again for anything out of the ordinary, before removing the blanket from my body and standing, striding my way over the door and yanking it open silently and slipping out, closing it behind myself. I needed some fresh air.

Making my way to the end of the train, I open a door that leads to a small balcony attached to the carriage. Immediately the wind hits me, blowing my hair to the side.

Sucking in a deep breath of air, I relax my shoulders and close my eyes. I had a nightmare — rather a memory — that Coach Brunt had broken into my booth and tied me up, much like before, and decided that enough was enough and planned to end things then and there.

A pretty sad nightmare, huh.

I enjoy the breeze a little longer before turning around and opening the door, walking back into the train carriage and back to my booth. Opening the door, I am surprised to see Grah-Grayson awake and sat upright, watching out of the window at the scenery. It was early for him to be awake, it was about five in the morning and the sun had begun rising, casting a gentle glow in the booth.

"Ah, mate, there you are, are you alr-......."

The words leave his mouth as he stares at me in surprise, horror, happiness, sadness and recognition... a mix of everything. Exactly what I was feeling.

Tears fill my eyes as I gaze at the male before me. It couldn't be...

"G-Gray?"

"Black sheep..?."

Grah-Grayson stands up, tears in his own eyes as he stares at me intently.

Stepping forward, I feel my arms raising slightly and before I knew it I was lunging for him, sobs wreaking through my lips as tears flowed heavily from my eyes. Engulfing him in my arms, I feel him do the same with just as much ferocity. I hear sobs come from him too, his chest rising and falling quickly and sharply with each gasp of air.

Before anything could be said, I feel anger suddenly wash over me, leading me to remove my arms from around him and shove him away harshly, placing some distance between us.

A confused whimper leaves his mouth, clearly unintentionally, but before he could say anything I let months worth of hurt, confusion, upset and anger form into words and flow out freely.

"Gray where were you?! W-What did you mean 'don't tell her' that you woke up!! Do you know how long I waited for you to wake up in the hospital, unable to see you or hear from you, not knowing that you had long gone?! Do you- Do you know how long I WAITED fOR YOU? Three months Gray- three months that you were gone and I was waiting for you to wake up so that we could start over, so that I could know you were okay!" The words kept flowing out, no matter how much I tried to stop them. Although I didn't try. I couldn't bring myself to try. I started pacing back and forth as I rambled, making sure the emphasis on certain words came out.

"Carmen, let me explain, I-"

I cut him off, anger still clouding my better judgement.

"NO Gray, you don't get to explain until you hear me!! I searched EVERYWHERE for days, weeks, months for you, thinking that something had happened to you, only to be told by Chief that you had requested to not have your condition or whereabouts revealed to me! Why Gray, why..? If you were angry or upset at me and didn't want to see me, you could have just told me instead of making me worry like that! I spent so many nights awake trying to find out where you were with the help of Player, but nothing!! NOTHING!"

I heave out everything that has been resting on my shoulders, the feeling of relief evident on my shoulders as a weight had been lifted.

"Carmen I was never upset at you, more of I was upset at myself. It was my fault that you had been captured and lured in, I knew what was happening and I could have prevented it, but I didn't. I blamed myself for you being brainwashed and hurt, and for myself being hurt. I was such an idiot and I didn't want to do something that could hurt you again-"

"And yet you did.." I remark with a whisper, adverting my eyes as I crossed my arms over my chest, hugging myself and sniffling as I did so.

"I know and I'm sorry... I didn't want to interfere with your life, not after everything that had happened. VILE was caught and disbanded, you had information on your mother, everything was over and you had a fresh start ahead of you and I didn't want to get in the way of that. So, I changed my identity and lived away from the public eye, hidden away where you could not find me. It wasn't just a fresh start for you, it was one for me too... I asked for you to not be told of my departure, even though Cheif strongly suggested against it, the same with that Julia lady. I told them it was my only request, and they allowed it eventually. I now realise that wasn't a good idea and that it hurt you much more than I believed it could or would... I am so sorry Carmen.. I really am so, incredibly sorry.. I can't blame you if you are angry at me, I gue-"

"Of course I'm angry at you!! I finally realised after all of that time that I was in love with you, and I was prepared to tell you, only to find that you were gone! Those three months left in the dark were pure heaven compared to the.. the shitty, crappy, horrible feelings once I found out you were gone!"

I watch as Gray's eyes widen in surprise, as he stutters his next sentence, his face flushed from tears, much like my own.

"C-Carmen.. you- what did you just.. what did you just say?"

"That I realised after all of this time that I was in love with you, so very incredibly in love with you, and that I was prepared to tell you!" I growl.

We both stand there in silence, the cool feeling of my tears drying up on my face present. Sudden realisation dawns upon me at what I had just boldly announced. Smacking my hand over my mouth, I gasp, my eyes widening as the realisation finally sets in completely.

Nothing is said between us as we just stare one another in the eyes, waiting for the other to speak.

"Gray, I-"

I cut myself short as Gray abruptly strides towards me confidently, raising his hands to cup my cheeks as I step back, unsure of what was happening. Staring down into my eyes, Gray smiles gently.

"You always were a cheeky one, sneaking your way into my heart the way you did".

My stomach fills with butterflies at that, a small smile making its way onto my face, accompanied by little giggles. Soon enough, I was laughing uncontrollably into Gray's chest, him onto my shoulder.

The laughter died down soon after, we were just left with warm smiles on our faces.

Moving his hand across my face, his thumb stroking my cheek and his other hand caressed the back of my neck, he looks down at my lips before looking into my eyes.

"May I?"

That one sentence had my stomach doing flips as though I were a schoolgirl who just confessed her undying love to her crush and received the same feelings back, though I guess in some respects I was that schoolgirl, just a little older.

"You may".

With that, Gray leans down, pressing his lips gently against mine and pulling away. I did not feel those fireworks that people would describe a true-loves kiss as, rather I felt complete, safe, happy, joyous, excited, calm, at peace and so many more pleasant things, much better than those so described fireworks.

Leaning in for a second kiss, I met Gray halfway with just as much passion, more ferocity this time, however. Soon though, we had to depart for air, a gentle blush growing over both of our cheeks.

"Carmen, I-"

"Excuse me, are you two alright in there? I could faintly hear you arguing from next door".

Looking behind me, there was an older woman stood in the doorway, a concerned look on her face.

"Yes, we are alright madame, thank you for your concern. Sorry for the noise, everything is sorted now" I explain, turning to face the woman.

"Very well then, there is no need to apologise my dear, as long as you are both okay. Oh, and sorry for interrupting your moment"

The lady giggles cheekily, before making her way back to her booth while rambling on about young love, or something along the lines.

"We should probably close the door, no?"

"Yes, we should. You, mister, have a lot to explain to me, especially what you have been up to since we last saw one another".

I smile as I leave Grays embrace, walking to the door and closing it.

"As do you. We have a while till we reach my destination, so shall we?"

"Hmm... I say sleep and then explain at a later time, on a date perhaps?"

"Friday, 8PM at Au Vieux Paris d'Arcole?" Grey wiggles his eyebrows, a smile on his face as he does so.

Laughter bubbles in my throat as I sniffle, wiping away any tear streams on my face as I nod my head eagerly.

"Call it a date".

A/N: This is my first ever oneshot/story piece that I've done on here and I honestly do not know how good it is, or how bad it is. All I can hope is that it's decent. It was inspired by @wizardsoffthecoast who had mentioned something about this, so here we are. I hope you enjoy it!

(I do apologise for any spelling mistakes!)

[nutty1005]

A Dream Like a Dream – Chengdu Stop Lower Half by Addison20999

Original article: https://weibo.com/6596396544/KkVEp7NPS Original author: Addison20999

Image Cr. REDOct·肖战

Chengdu Lower Half Repo (Only watched lower half and read the book, Seat was 1280￥)

I knew that he would be lying on the hospital bed, hence once I entered I was arranging my binoculars to look at him. I only saw the blanket pile, he was sleeping under it, not moving, like a little mound. The blanket was like the curtain, fully covering him, and it also meant that the story had not started yet. The female doctor was already in character, she was at the foot of the bed, moving her hands with the rhythm of breathing.

Then it was the warm reminder, the stage became dark, then the light came onto the hospital room. The story has begun.There was heavy breathing in the background, “In~ out~ in~ out~”, the doctor was still performing her ritual.Suddenly, No. 5 drew open his blanket and questioned her, the heavy breathing had annoyed this man who had a fever for many years. (This was my first time seeing him and his No. 5, his face was so clear before my binoculars, I was slightly stunned, hence this part of the repo might be very “subconscious”.)

No. 5 started telling his story to the doctor, the story where he went to seek Gu Xianglan. At the other end of the stage, the story was also being performed. The No. 5 today sat on his hospital bed, he was deep in thoughts as he looked across to his experience, and started filling up the story being enacted then. As he said, he looked across the audience, there was an instant where he looked past me, and on my end it felt like we locked gaze. What kind of eyes are those, so bright and clear, there was no possibility to explore or think about what kind of lines created such alluring eyes. When I’m seeing him live, I can only see his bright gaze, I can’t see anything else!

Luckily, the No. 5 on the hospital bed was a narrator, I still had ears.The voice in the lines were No. 5’s, the No. 5 who was being crafted in the play. The resonance from his chest voice, the lines were superb, they carried the discomfort from No. 5’s illness, they were low, helpless but not deliberate, very natural, and every syllable was clear. (Lines in plays are really important, especially when many people spoke at the same time, if you weren’t clear no one would understand what you’ve said, the lower half had Shanghainese dialect, and even though I’m from Zhejiang, I wouldn’t really understand every dialect, so having good lines is really important!) Xiao Zhan’s voice was like a piano, it’s already so gentle and attractive, when he adds in the sickly tone and the melancholic emotion, truly, only those who heard it would understand.

Very soon, No. 5 went off stage, and soon it was old Gu Xianglan narrating her story with the Baron, or rather, the past lives of No. 5 and his wife. This story was very long, it encompassed Shanghai and France, it encountered republic era, World War II, the French restoration from occupation to 1966 when Wang Debao passed away, it spoke of Gu Xianglan lifetime as a man’s plaything seeking the true nature of art, abandoned and becoming a road sweeper, a maid and a nanny, and finally returning to Shanghai with Wang Debao. Xu Qing is undoubtedly an actress who could influence her audience very well, I had seen a lot of cliché stories before, but yet I was drawn into her Gu Xianglan’s life as a famous courtesan in a high class brothel, as a famous French artist in the saloon…After Gu Xianglan ended her resentment with the Baron in her own method, the No. 5 who came to ask about old Gu Xianglan was about to appear.

When it was still gloomy, I discovered that the central stage had many shadows overlapping, as though there were many patient beds in a row. When the light lit up the stage, No. 5 was holding old Gu Xianglan’s spotted hands, side seated by the bed, deeply concerned and patient as he listened to the old lady talk about her life. The old lady was already dying, it was unclear if she mistook him or she saw the true nature of it, she called No. 5 “Henry”, the man who abandoned her to the chaos of France. Old Gu Xianglan spoke to No. 5 the words she never managed to tell the Baron, and from that she found her closure, release and the relief from feeling that they no longer owed each other anything. Whereas No. 5’s emotions was affected by Gu Xianglan, he said, when he saw Gu Xianglan being upset, he was upset too. Perhaps because this was also a part of No. 5’s story, he was already within the story, and naturally he could not help himself.

I could only see No. 5’s side profile, I saw a side profile of very smooth lines, very different from the adorable him when he just debuted, the collagen at his current age is just too perfect, there weren’t too much or too little, the lines and his bone structure combined together to sculpt all kinds of stories.After Gu Xianglan passed away, No. 5 walked around the stage, it was very different from how Xiao Zhan usually walked, the theme for this part of the story was “redemption” and “closure”, it was the long gloomy day, the sudden calm that came after a lifetime of glory and tribulations. When he walked before the audience, and looked at us with his already red and puffy eyes, how could anyone not be touched by him? He stood there, his eyes reddened and full of tears, his expression helpless and sorrowful. I thought, I was already absorbed into that story because of his gaze, I really wanted to hug him so that he wouldn’t be so upset. I could not bear to let him stand there, so frail, and allow him to go through so much trials because of his previous lifetime! But, he was No. 5, his happiness and sorrow had been predetermined by that previous lifetime, I could not help him, I could only watch from afar, watch his life be crushed without reason, shattered, pieced together again, and barely survive. He could only bring his luggage away from us, and leave us with a slightly hunched shadow. This path was so long, and he walked so long.

At the end of the road, was a late farewell in the lower half. He returned to Jiang Hong’s apartment, with heavy panting, he took a long time to climb that staircase. I was regretful that I didn’t watch the upper half to make comparisons.He opened the non-existent door to the apartment, in that apartment he looked over to the white chapel faraway. In that instant, I felt that he coincided with the Gu Xianglan, who also looked over to a chapel as she drew in a dark attic, it was the keen loneliness and desolation that connected both of them.

No. 5 found the letter Jiang Hong left for him in the floorboards, he kneeled on the ground as he read, first it was his voice and Jiang Hong’s, then Jiang Hong continued reading solo. Jiang Hong described how she lived after No. 5 left her, perhaps it was also Gu Xianglan’s thoughts after the Baron left her: “Instead of letting that period of time extend to become an eternity of memory, I’d rather live fully in that period.”, “You and I could have such a period of time together, and it was so good, that’s great”… As the letter was being read, No. 5’s teardrops fell drop by drop, these teardrops were not teardrops, but they were the mixture of emotions, every drop, was the resonance to a long sorrow, the yearning of the short-lived happiness, the saudade for those who left him… The man kneeled before me on an empty stage, his surging emotions crystalizing into teardrops that crashed onto my heart. I didn’t think of wiping away his tears, because he was No. 5, he needed to complete his life journey on stage. Following the thread of fates, he came to the place where the Baron and his African lady lived and met his daughter from his previous timetime. Thereafter, he sat there alone, and gave himself to the surrounding sorrow left behind by his fate.

Finally, he returned to the castle, carrying his completed handicraft, although his emotions were like he was still walking through the gloom, he had already put on his coat of polite smiles. After all the twists and turns, once again he returned to the lake side, this time, it was a special millennium eve ritual: to place all the things you do not want to bring into the millennium, such as illness, wars, inequality and all that is bad, into a box and throw it into the lake – “let all the things you do not want to bring with you stay in that mysterious space”.

The ritual started, singing, applause, cheering, dancing, flowers and hugging. But “smiles and songs do not belong to him”, No. 5 stood with his back facing us, quietly watching the lake in the distance, it was like he was a traveler tossed here from a mysterious space, in the chaos of light and shadow, interlaced in the cheering crowd. Was he really able to leave the things he didn’t want to bring with him behind? Everything was preordained in the cycle of fate, in the predestination, everyone had to face the consequences of their actions, no matter whether it was this lifetime, or the next lifetime. Perhaps this also indicated the closure between Gu Xianglan and the Baron, that it would no longer impact the next lifetime.

He stood by the lake, stood in his own world, and I could not get in.After completing the farewell in No. 5’s life, we have to bid farewell to him as well. In this scene, he was the observer, he simply stood still. The half beam of warm light could not light up the entire darkness, I could only see his face. Precisely because he stood still, hence I had the chance to study and record him into my memory. Even light would fall in love with his side profile, brow bone, the outlines of his eyes, his nose, his philtrum, his lips, the clear jawline, smooth, clean, exquisite – these were my only sensations. I worked hard to hold onto my binoculars, but it was unavoidable as my hands shook when I breathed. As they shook, I subconsciously fell into a surreal state, it was like an exquisite porcelain doll, like an extraordinarily crafted human CG effect, even went beyond the boundaries of gender. He stayed still, so far and so frail, as though if I “shook” harder, he would disappear on the spot, and that would be all my fault. Really, photographs and videos could not record such beauty, it could convey beauty, but not the whole beauty, and this perhaps was left for us to see him vividly in life.

Finally, he stood there, facing us as he sang us a poem:

“Did anyone see my face? I think I remembered, I think I forgot, You used to linger in my dreams; I think I remembered, I think I forgot, I used to sing in your story; I think I remembered, I think I forgot.”

In the first phrase, he solemnly set the tone of the tune, and led the audience to immerse themselves into the life that he sang. When he sang to “forgot” of the second phrase, I clearly saw that he smiled gently, as though he was smiling at his life, heavy but yet as weightless as smoke. The third phrase when he sang “I” of “I think I forgot”, it was like this world, including his No. 5, had forgot what needed to be forgotten. “Reality is in fact an illusion that could not be captured, the problem is, this illusion keeps continuing.”

He simply is No. 5.

[unlikelymilkshakedream]

A/n: Hello! Here is part 3 for the Charlie Weasley fic I promised. Sorry this took so long. I promised angst, so I'm giving it. Hope you enjoy!

Another day, another exam, or so it seemed that way at Hogwarts. As May came to a close, and June starts, your O.W.L.s were giving you more stress than you had ever felt. Your future was on the line if you didn't do well with your exams.

Not only were your exams crushing you, your relationship had been rocky for a couple of months. After the valentines day dance with your date, Charlie Weasley, nothing could have made your life better. You were dating your best friend, all of your friends supported you, and you had no tests coming up. In other words, very different from your life currently.

You were still technically dating your best friend, but from long classes and homework that came with them, to Charlie's quiditch practices lasting forever in hopes of winning the house cup, you hadn't had time to spend a moment alone together in what felt like years.

Your friends would always be there for you and you knew that, you cared about them with your whole heart and knew they felt the same way, but they had their own exams and futures just as you did. You would never ask them for anything because you didn't want to be a burden.

And of course, your exams. Your dreams of becoming a curse breaker were very important to you. You wanted nothing more than to help people, on top of finding your brother and protecting hogwarts. You were a natural curse breaker so it only makes sense that you would pursue your passion. However, if you wanted to do that, you needed to not only pass your exams, but exceed the expectations.

With that responsibility came nights on end in the library, studying, preparing and hoping that it would all work out. Your exams, finding your brother, hell, even your relationship with Charlie. You knew how rocky it was and you were devastated by that, but you knew if you two truly wanted to, it would work out, or so you hoped.

So, another night in the library, was your fate. You wanted to be with Charlie, but you knew he had quiditch practice, and you had a potions exam in the morning that you weren't ready for. As you flipped through your book, trying to soak up as much information as you could, you didn't notice a certain redhead sneak behind you.

"Hey baby," you felt the hot breathe on your neck and jumped more than out of your skin.

"Blimey Charlie, you scared me." He chuckled as he pulled a chair beside you.

"Sorry, I just wanted to see you after practice, and I haven't seen you all weekend." He smiled at you, which you couldn't help but smile back.

"I know, its just tomorrow starts like the most stressful week of the year. If I don't do well on my exams, my future can be forgotten. Speaking of, I am not ready for potions tomorrow, hence why I'm here." You smiled as you looked back towards your book.

"Hey, you're gonna do great on your exam because you are great, and smart, and beautiful," Charlie said as you rolled your eyes and laughed. "Its just we haven't seen each other in a while, thought i could keep you company." You sighed.

"Look, I know we haven't been the most talkative lately, but what exactly do you want me to say, you know how important this is to me." He put his hand on yours.

"I know, I get it baby, I do, and after this week, we're gonna celebrate." He said with the biggest grin on his face. Suddenly, Madame Pince came around the corner with the dirtiest look on her face.

"Shh!" You smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry Madam-"

"Shh!!!" You sighed as she walked away. You turned back to charlie.

"You better go, I have to study and don't wanna get kicked out." You smiled at him.

"Okay, but I meant what I said about celebrating." He smiled hugley. You returned the smile, only a fraction of what he had given you. That made his smile falter and eventually he turned and walked back to his dorm.

Eventually you had to except the time as 11pm rolled around and Madam Pince kicked you out of the library. You took the book along with all your other stuff and headed towards your common room.

Once you were in, you sat down near the fireplace and opened your potions book once again, flipping to the section about dragon livers and how they were hard to get.

Eventually, you heard the clock strike 2am and had to call it a night. As you closed your booka nd sat back, looking into the fire, you thought of your life as a cursebreaker, how great it would be, how much you wanted to do it, and what you were willing to do to achieve that goal.

As you stood up and headed towards the stairwell, your way was blocked by charlie, the last person you expected to see, especially at this hour.

"Hey, what're you doing up?" Charlie asked groggy.

"I could ask you the same thing. I was just going to bed." You said as you pushed past him and climbed the stairs. He followed you up.

"I thought you'd be up, I was just checking on you." You turned around as you got to the last step before your dorm and smiled.

"Thats sweet, but go back to bed. Goodnight." You leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, then headed into your dorm, falling on your bed and instantly falling asleep.

The next morning, you woke at around 8. Shit. You were late. You quickly got up and dressed faster than ever and ran to the dungeons. You mad either to class just in time, not eating or anything.

"Well, well, Ms. Brooks, you have decided to grace us with your presence, how considerate." Snape sneered at you as you walked to your seat beside Rowan, breathing heavily, across the room, you saw Charlie looking worriedly at you, which was the last thing you wanted in that moment.

Once your potion exam was finished, you walked out of the room, feeling exhausted and like you failed. You started walking to your next exam, which was charms, the easiest of your exams. Soon enough a certain redhead caught up with you.

"Hey, y/n, why were you late today?" You turned to him.

"I over slept, which I dont do, so I didn't realize at which point I had to sprint to make it, which I didnt." You sighed tired lying. "Why?"

"Just wondering, I missed you at breakfast. Did you eat anything?" You smiled softly.

"No, I haven't but its fine, look i have to go to charms and I really don't wanna be late again, see you." Without another word from either of you, you walked away to charms.

At charms, you felt most confident of all classes, which honestly wasn't saying a lot. You finished your exam pretty easily and walked to the great hall, intending on studying until your Defense Against the Dark Arts exam in an hour. Once the clock struck the time to take your next exam, you left the great hall.

Once you reached DADA, you walked in with Tulip and took your seat. You should feel bad, but you just were so glad charlie wasn't there, staring at you like a sorry case. He meant well and you knew it but you just wanted space.

As you finished your final exam of the day, you headed to the library, studying for transfigurations next. When you reached the library, unfortunately you fell into the same pattern as the previous night, except this time no charlie.

When the clock struck midnight, you went to the dorm room and headed straight for bed, not bothering to study anymore. Once your head hit the pillow, you were out.

When you woke up the next morning, the sun was shining into your window nicely. It was a good way to wake up honestly. You say up and saw Rowan asleep. You figured you had a few minutes before breakfast so you got up and got dressed.

You and Rowan walked to breakfast while revising your transfiguration knowledge. You didn't feel as bad about it as potions but you also didn't feel as great about it as charms. Walking into the great hall, you found Charlie sitting with his younger brothers. You knew you had to go sit with him.

"Hey y/n, how'd you sleep?" Charlie asked as he saw you sit next to him and his brothers giggled at him, to which he sent a dirty look.

"Um, not the best but ye know. Its whatever." As you sat down you ate the blandest breakfast ever, granola and coffee, it would just have to do for today.

"Are you guys ready for the big game tomorrow night?" Fred asked the table. You looked at him with a confused expression whereas everyone else seemed to understand.

"What game fred?" He turned to you.

"Uh, the house cup game, we are so gonna kick hufflepuffs ass." Ah.

"Right, good luck." Charlie turned to you.

"You'll come right love? What me win?" You smiled as you sipped your coffee.

"Uh yeah, maybe, I might have to study for History of magic but we'll see." Charlie stopped.

"Y/n, you can't miss the game, its only the biggest game of the year. Please come." Ugh when he gave you those puppy dog eyes, you knew you were done for.

"Okay, yes I will go, of course I will." You smiled and kissed his cheek.

As breakfast finished and you and Rowan made your way to transfiguration, you felt confident in the upcoming essay. Going over info with Rowan definitely helped.

Once you were finished with the exam, you went to the great hall, being assigned twenty five inches of parchment for the second half of the exam was not ideal. You were stressed out, but at least you only had care of magical creatures left for the day, something you were sure you'd excel in thanks to charlie.

As you walked down the grounds for your exam, you felt very confident that you'd do well. Your confidence was correctly placed as you walked to the common room to start on you parchment for transfiguration, doing very well on your exam in care of magical creatures.

The real problems didn't start until the following day, charlies big game was today and you hadn't made a dent in your parchment, due to not being able to focus and eventually falling asleep far earlier than you would have liked. Today you had exams in astronomy, history of magic and a regular potions class. You were extremely busy today, it didn't help you woke up 20 minutes before your exam in astronomy so you had to sprint once again to be on time.

Once you were seated in astronomy, your exam begun and you didnt feel very confident. You gave it your all and after about 75 minutes, you were done. You walked out and saw your boyfriend charlie who lit up when he saw you. You walked over to him with a small smile on your face.

"Hey babe, whats up?" You asked him.

"Not much now that your hear, just nervous for later." You looked at his smiling face confused.

"Later?" His smile dropped. You had forgotten about the quitditch match.

"The match that determines who wins the house cup? I thought you were coming, its really important to me." Shit. Right, yeah of course you would go.

"Right, of course I will be there, sorry I'm just tired you know how it is. I will be there, but right now I have to go to potions, ill see you later." Damn, how had you forgotten?

Potions seemed to last forever as Snape lectured on Beatle brains, you swore you were going to die of boredom, all you wanted to do was study for history of magic.

When class was finally dismissed, you headed straight for the library, not having your final exam for an hour and a half. When you sat down in the library, you immediately fell into studying, the time slipping by quickly until it was time to go to your exam.

Arriving to your exam, you set your things down and got ready for it, feeling confident as you had spent a lot of time studying for this. You finished your exam in 65 minutes and headed to the great hall, feeling hungry.

When you got to the great hall and saw what was happening inside, all hunger left your body.

Shit.

Inside, Gryffindor students were celebrating the win of the house cup, you had forgotten the game. You walked in to the great hall and saw Charlie, held up by his teammates above everyone like a king. You smiled at how happy he looked, but when he saw you, its like every drop of happiness was taken from him and you felt your heart break.

Charlie told his team mates to let him down which they did as he made his way over to you, looking hurt and disappointed. You couldn't do much besides stand there and look at him sheepishly.

"Y/n, why didn't you come to the game, you knew how important it was to me and how much I could have used your support." He said loudly, causing those near you to look on at the conversation.

"Charlie, can we go in the hallway?" He looked pissed but didn't object. Once you were away from everyone, you turned to him.

"Charlie, I am so sorry I didn't go to your game, I was in the library studying and the time just got away from me and before I knew it I had to go to my exam and I completely forgot l. I'm so sorry. But you won anyway so you didn't need me at all, cause your just that good." You said with a smile, trying to defuse his anger. It didn't work.

"Y/n, that's not the point, you said you would be there and I wanted you there. You didn't need to study for your exam, you've been studying all week, this is all I asked of you and you couldn't even give me this." As he finished, you felt sorrow drain and anger rise.

"What exactly do you mean I didnt need to study for my exam? I have been studying all week, unlike you, because I care about getting good grades. You know how badly I need to do on my exams to have a future! I didnt go to your match, because I wanted to make sure I did well. I apologized but now your being irrational." He scoffed.

"Irrational? I asked one thing of you, I asked you to attend a quiditch match to support your boyfriend, but apparently if it doesn't benefit you, it doesn't matter, huh is that it?" You were now fully screaming at each other, thank god the hallway was deserted.

"Are you serious? You know maybe if you cared more about your future and grades like I do, you would see where I'm coming from, but all you care about is a God damn match and dragons! No wonder we've been like this for months. You say im selfish, I've done everything for you. I miss one thing and the worlds over to you." Charlie turned away and scoffed.

"You're right, we have been like this for a long time, because we just don't work anymore." You froze. "Y/n, you can't even support your own boyfriend, you care more about tests than anything, this clearly isn't working." You looked at him while a tear rolled down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away. You didn't want to break up with Charlie, God no. But he didn't seem to want to stay together.

"Charlie, it's not like that, you know how stressed I've been, I'm sorry I didn't come to your game, I truly meant to go. I care a lot about my future, but you don't and thats not on me. You can't put this on me, its not just the match, you've been like this ever since the dance, its not only me." More tears rolled down your cheeks as one slid out from his eye.

"Y/n, this just isn't working, I'm sorry." No, God no please.

"Charlie, no, please, don't do this. I swear I-" he cut you off.

"I'm sorry, its already done." He turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in an empty corridor, feeling your heart leaving your soul. You don't know how it happened, you don't know where it went wrong. Was it truly the match? Or was it ever since the day of the dance? Did he even ever like you?

As you stood in that corridor, you felt cold, you felt like you soul left you. You watched him walk away and eventually out of eyesight, thinking about how you would never feel his kiss again, never feel the comfort of his embrace, never feel his love again.

You didn't want this, God no, but your gut told you it had to happen, you just wish it didn't hurt this much. As you wrapped your arms around yourself and sank to the floor with tears on your face, you felt nothing but hollow, wishing the presence of charlie was still there. Wishing he could hold you and tell you he loved you again, as you loved him still.

You didn't know how you were going to go on without him, but you knew one thing for sure, the last thing you cared about was your fucking grades, because you just lost the best thing in your life.

A/n: okay, sorry this took so long, I suck i know! Im sorry this was shitty, I will try to finish the series relatively soon, there will be 2 more parts. I hope you like it, thanks for reading!

[passionate-reply]

This week on Great Albums, I finally explain the deal with that record you’ve seen in the background of these videos, with those dudes working in the office. These dudes used to be in the Human League! Oh, and they really hate fascism. Full transcript of the video after the break.

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’ll be looking at the debut album of Heaven 17: 1981’s Penthouse & Pavement. While you may not be familiar with Heaven 17, chances are pretty good that if you know your Western pop, you’ve heard of the Human League! Before forming Heaven 17, Ian Craig Marsh and Martyn Ware were members of the Human League--and they were also the band’s creative core. But they had a very different artistic vision, and one that doesn’t exactly prefigure the success of hits like “Don’t You Want Me.”

Music: “Being Boiled”

Between its plodding electronics and inscrutable lyricism, “Being Boiled” is pretty far from a pop hit. When Marsh and Ware left the Human League, they were keen to continue pursuing this sort of underground, experimental, quasi-industrial direction. Initially, the two of them formed the British Electronic Foundation, or “B.E.F.” It was chiefly a production company that worked with other artists, though they also released some instrumental music under this name. With the recruitment of vocalist Glenn Gregory, who Marsh and Ware had initially intended to front the Human League in the first place, they were set to get right back into the groove of what they had been up to before.

Music: “Fascist Groove Thang”

“Fascist Groove Thang” is the opening track of Penthouse & Pavement, and was one of its chief singles. While it’s much less ambiguous than “Being Boiled,” and much easier to dance to, it’s still got a lot of that subversive, underground charm--enough to get banned by the BBC, anyway. I know they always say that history rhymes, but it’s one of those songs from this era that really feels like it belongs more in our time than the one it came from. I like to think that its unforgettable chorus sounds more like a chant you might hear at a protest march, as opposed to something that belongs in a proper song. “Fascist Groove Thang” is actually based on an instrumental track by BEF, which was simply called “Groove Thang” before being reworked into this political anthem. Both versions are indeed pretty groovy, thanks in large part to the bass guitar work of session musician John Wilson. Compared to their work with the Human League, Penthouse & Pavement has an overall richer sonic palate, with more of those traditional instruments, as well as backing vocals. You’ll hear a lot of those on the album’s title track:

Music: “Penthouse & Pavement”

Penthouse & Pavement’s title track is the longest track on the album, clocking in at over six minutes. Between that, the lush instrumentation, and the honour of being the title track, it certainly feels like an anti-capitalist epic, dramatizing and dignifying the inner thoughts of a common wage-slave. The first side of the album, dubbed the “Pavement Side,” is where you’ll find both of these tracks, and it seems to deal chiefly with working-class struggles, as well as having a bigger emphasis on that bass-heavy groove, musically. Naturally, then, the flip is the “Penthouse Side,” it’s more melodic, and it seems to focus more on the lives of the rich and famous...though it isn’t quite that straightforward.

Music: “We’re Going To Live For a Very Long Time”

“We’re Going To Live For a Very Long Time” is perhaps the clearest expression of the idea of the upper classes living in their own protected bubble, shielded from plebeian woes. There’s a religious dimension to it, in that the narrator manages to live without worries because of their assuredness that Heaven awaits them when they die...but, as the title reminds us, they’re also confident that Earth will be good to them, as well. In case you were worried this message might not be ironic, the song actually stops abruptly in the middle of its final refrain, providing a sudden end for that narrator--as well as closing out the entire LP with a bang, since this is the final track! The idea of the wealthy actively taunting those beneath them is also central to the most rhythmic track of the Penthouse Side, “The Height of the Fighting.”

Music: “The Height of the Fighting”

In “The Height of the Fighting,” that march-like chanting takes center stage again, but it feels very different here. Rather than embodying a sort of grassroots resistance to the consolidation of power, “The Height of the Fighting” seems to be the voice of authority and power coming downwards, fitting the theme of the Penthouse Side. The song’s assertions, like “if you can’t take it, fake it” and “they sent you to it, do it” could be interpreted as pithy, meaningless sayings--perhaps throwaway lyrics, taking up space on a single aimed squarely at the dance floor. However, if you know the context of the Penthouse Side, it’s hard not to see them as representations of the worthless advice the rich often give the poor. Get a job. Get a side hustle. Work harder. Eat out less. And so on. Much like the implicit messages about class in popular culture, “The Height of the Fighting” might seem disposable, but the thrust of what it’s saying is actually deeply warped. Another complex, and perhaps conflicted, track on the Penthouse Side is “Let’s All Make a Bomb”:

Music: “Let’s All Make a Bomb”

Songs against nuclear war were commonplace in Cold War-era music, but “Let’s All Make a Bomb” isn’t quite a typical example. At first, its slow pace and despondent melody make us think we’re getting the usual fare. But the return of that swelling, chant-like refrain style, as well as a closer inspection of the lyrics, reveal otherwise. As the title might imply, “Let’s All Make a Bomb” asks us what kind of character is actually crazy enough to *want* nuclear war, and the character Heaven 17 have chosen is a hedonistic libertine, who sees the end of the world as one big party. The atomic bomb is not a thing to be feared, but “a brand new toy, to idolize.” As dark as that is, the fact that it’s also part of the Penthouse Side, and ostensibly a representation of what those who hold influence and power believe, adds a whole new level of horror to it.

While I love album art, and my interest in it is the main reason I started collecting vintage vinyl, I think [the cover of Penthouse & Pavement just might be my favourite of all time. Penthouse & Pavement’s cover portrays the three members of Heaven 17 as though they were businessmen, co-opting motives like glass-paneled skyscrapers and the deal-making handshake straight from the 1980s corporate visual lexicon. They've even got cities they're allegedly based out of, one of which is their native Sheffield, England. If you look closely, there are a few hints that they’re actually a music band and not a firm, such as the reel-to-reel tape player in the upper right-hand corner, and the fact that in the lower left-hand corner, Martyn Ware is writing music in front of a keyboard. At the bottom, we also find the logo of B.E.F., which brings this grand “joke” full circle. As the “British Electronic Foundation,” they had also billed themselves as a faceless organisation, adopting a name that sounds more at home on a utility bill than an album cover. Here, the trio have done it again, in a bit of ruthless satire towards the rising “yuppie” culture of the 80s. Incidentally, the cover art is a traditional painting, credited to one Ray Smith. It wasn't unusual to commission paintings for album art at the time, but it does tickle me knowing a human being physically painted Heaven 17 as office workers. If the original ever came up for auction, I'd probably shell out for it. It would look great in my office!

Anyway, it’s also worth mentioning how the title “Penthouse & Pavement” adds to that corporate theme. The X-and-Y format recalls the names of many real-life firms and companies, such as Ernst & Young. A “penthouse” is an apartment located very high up in a tall, urban building. Such apartments are usually expensive, and are hence occupied by well-off tenants. “Pavement,” in this context, probably refers to what Americans call the “sidewalk,” the paved pathways where the less fortunate among us might walk past those penthouses, without ever getting too close. Each side functions as an ideal symbol of the kind of people it represents, and the physical gap between them is a visceral representation of economic inequality. The title is also quite pleasingly alliterative!

While Penthouse & Pavement maintains a certain underground integrity, which is consistent with Marsh and Ware’s track record as part of the Human League, it’s still much more of a pop record than anything they had done before. Heaven 17 never went quite as pop as the Human League did without them, and they certainly never saw the same level of mainstream success, but they did pursue an increasingly pop direction with their next several releases. Their 1983 followup, The Luxury Gap, delivers less of that hard-hitting critique of capital, but did produce some of their best-known singles, namely, “Temptation” and “Let Me Go.”

Music: “Let Me Go”

My favourite track on Penthouse & Pavement is “Geisha Boys & Temple Girls.” I like this track’s overall mysterious, otherworldly vibe--it’s not terribly easy to pin down what it’s really about, or what sort of mood it’s meant to convey. The intro to this song sounds more like Karlheinz Stockhausen than something you would hear in pop, and I love how strident and abrasive it is. Given its place as the opening track of the Penthouse Side, and its opening line, “look ahead, on the screen,” I’m tempted to interpret it as a representation of a fictional romance in television or film. It’s dramatic, unpredictable, exotic, and also completely fake and divorced from how people behave in the real world. The idea that entertainments and diversions are part of what shelters the rich from the consequences of their actions is another one of those things that makes this album continue to feel relevant. That’s all I have for today--thanks for listening!

Music: “Geisha Boys & Temple Girls”

[luxraydyne]

Renju's Body Painting, Symbolism Breakdown

I’m not lecturing anyone on what to make of this piece, just a couple of nice folks pointed out how much Stuff is going on here, so I figured it’d be interesting to return to this a couple weeks on and see what I can recall of what I was thinking.

Pose: 

Referenced almost exactly from Becquet's sculpture of Sebastian, with the figure tied with ropes to a tree-like stake.

We know that Renju gifted the Guido Reni painting to Marble himself, firmly tying the icon to him.

The story goes that Sebastian was persecuted and ultimately executed by the Romans for his commitment to his Christian faith.

Renju speaks of God once or twice, though it's more likely the symbol is significant to his queer identity, a point he shares with Mama, hence the gift of the painting.

He keeps his devotion to Pewter a secret, a fact which hinders the investigations into his murder, and in a twist of irony, leads to his lover's destruction. He lives more truthfully by divorcing Shoko and finding Pewter, but dies seen as a liar.

Red rope:

The red lines slicing through the frame roughly align with the wounds in Renju's body, standing in for the arrows lodged in the body of Sebastian.

They also form an approximate X or crucifix shape.

The black cables from which Renju's body is suspended in left path are changed to red, suggesting the blood pouring from his face (absent here) as well as the red string of fate myth.

Red thread:

There is also a red thread wrapped around Renju's neck, representing the ligature used to strangle him in left path, again, a morbid take on the red string of fate story.

Strangulation is, moreover, indicative of Renju's silence regarding his trauma, both from being preyed upon by the yakuza as a teenager and from hiding his love for another man from everyone who knew them.

Cloth:

The white sheet draped delicately over Renju's body, maintaining some dignity and acting as a cushion between his back and the stake, is hemmed in the same green as Pewter's lab coat, suggesting the small, subtle comfort their relationship provided.

It also has implications of persona and masking.

Let’s not shy away from the nudity of his body either. There is a definite sexuality to the fleshiness of it all, as well as a stark vulnerability, a sense of exposure.

Hook (top-left):

Taken almost directly from the diorama-like crime scene in left path. There is an artfulness to the horrific display.

The block and tackle setup with the hook and pulley is usually used on boats and sailing ships, fitting the nautical theme of Sunfish Pocket

It also objectifies Renju's corpse, rendering him into cargo

Scales:

Fish scale pattern, painted in gold, suggestive of the wealth, beauty and opulence that were the trappings of Renju's persona.

Alludes to the mermaid motif, adding a certain Otherness to Renju, a sort of unreality which pervades him throughout the story.

The fish caught by boats, of course, are meant to be killed and eaten.

Glasses (top-right):

At both crime scenes, in left and right path, Renju is missing his glasses, leaving his face exposed and bleeding, and presumably impeding his ability to see.

Here the spectacles are cracked and spattered with blood on the left side, alluding to the tearing out of Renju's left eyeball in both timelines.

Watch:

Pretty self-explanatory. The gold watch gifted to Renju by Pewter, matching his silver one.

The time reads 8:00, Renju's time of death in left path, and a crucial piece of evidence.

The watch face is huge, out of proportion with the other paraphernalia from the crime scene, implying the importance of this relationship to Renju, but also the threat it presents, unbeknownst to those investigating.

Oil barrel:

Nothing too complicated going on here, just a reference to the oil barrel into which Renju's corpse is stuffed in order to transport him to Sunfish Pocket where he would be put in display.

There’s possibly something to be said about the dirtiness of the oil barrel, the intended contents somehow dirtying or ‘soiling’ Renju’s body when he is stored in there instead. It’s a stark contrast between the clean white clothes he tended to wear, versus the black oil.

Pills (bottom-left):

In left path, we know Renju was drugged in order to incapacitate him before he was killed. This becomes more ironic the more you think about it.

I did consider including a glass or bottle of alcohol here as well, as a nod toward Renju's use of substances to alleviate his mental strain, but figured this might confuse matters and the implication of the sedatives did the job well enough on their own.

Car headlights (left):

Most obviously representing the car accident that puts Renju in hospital in right path.

Renju's car is also crucial to Shoko's murder and left path.

The headlights have a spotlight-like quality suggesting the harsh gaze aimed at Renju as suspicion is constantly on him.

The lights fade into shadow, however, gesturing toward both the darkness of Kabasaki and the accident in right path.

Blood (bottom-left):

In the absence of much blood on Renju's body here, the splatter pattern, tracking upward, is intended to imply the violent impact of the road accident in right path and the fatal damage inflicted on his body.

Eyes (bottom-left):

Another brutal irony to Renju's character is his transition from observer to the observed, and a victim in both cases. He grows from a kid forced to be the Kumakura's lookout whilst elderly murder victims died in their bathrooms, into the pretty face of a company, constantly looked at and judged by the public eye.

Paradoxically, Renju seeks the public gaze, and hides from it at the same time. He marries a woman he doesn't love to please the eyes, and hides the man he does cherish to please them. Ultimately, his attempt to love Pewter AND protect them both instead destroys them.

In left path, Renju is gawked at like an art fixture (like a painting? a sculpture?). In right path, Pewter is dragged out into the open and stared down in his place. There is no safe place.

Tire tracks (bottom-right):

Nothing fancy. Tire tracks unnaturally crossed to indicate the chaotic traffic accident that wrecks Renju's body in right path.

Road markings:

See above. Road passes straight through Renju's body, suggesting the speed and impact of the truck.

Text (bottom-right):

Lifted directly from in-game dialogue.

Mama catches Date staring at the painting on the wall of Marble, and explains that it was a gift. She seems a little surprised that a) Date hasn't noticed it before, and b) that the symbolism of it is not obvious. Aiba then explains the tale of St. Sebastian and his execution.

Shadow (background):

Behind Renju, there is a shadow of a single wing outstretched, a subtle suggestion of a fallen angel, and bringing us back to the theme of sainthood.

Of course, at the conclusion of the story, we realise that Renju has been long dead by the time his corpse is found in either timeline, his consciousness trapped in Shoko's body strung up on the merry-go-round, so you could argue that much of the imagery doesn't fit. Still, my focus here was on Renju's body as an object, as part of his identity which is taken from him, and as a parallel to Sebastian's body.

[shiroganeryo]

D.Gray-Man Tag 2!

I got tagged by my friend Violet (@14thexorcist) again to hop into the part two of this little game she made, and there are few things I love more than babbling about DGM, so let’s go!

The rules are to tag 4 people but, since I'm late to do this, I won't tag anyone this time. However, if you see it and want to do it, feel tagged by me! Here's the blank post.

⭐ What’s your favorite manga page/panel? That's quite the hard pick, every chapter and arc have something of amazing and remarkable in them. There are many moments I love hence many favorites on this matter, but thinking of what moves my heart, I can easily pick two pages without having to think twice.

From The 225th Night: Visiting A.W. - CALL 2.

This moment made me very happy; it was the first time we saw Allen smiling in a long while. I personally love the interaction he has with Johnny in this; it's full of warmth and relief. Seeing Johnny hug him so fondly like this as he smiles makes me smile. The visuals are beautiful as well, as expected from Hoshino-sensei's artwork.

From The 230th Night: Saying Goodbye to A.W: Torchlight and Tearstains

I love everything about this page and its middle panel. The parallel between current Allen and dog Allen is perfectly set as a mirror image; the two of them are looking at each other, and both their right hand and paw are on top of the grave. In my opinion, this is where Hoshino's genius shows. She's great at giving us meaningful representations with simplicity and subtlety.

⭐ What’s your favorite chapter? I can remember at least one thing I love in every chapter, so let's narrow down the options! Currently, my favorite one is The 226th Night: Searching for A.W. - Live Man + Dead Man. Being honest, I love the whole A.W arc. We get a lot of insight on Allen and witness his growth (emotionally); I also love the part Johnny, Kanda and Link are playing in here. We also get hints towards the truth about Nea.

But this chapter in specific has some of my favorite lines as soon as it starts. Quoting the official english translation: "I can return from that beautiful place, so like heaven... taking the only path there is.

The voice that calls me... It connects me to this world. It is a bond... and a summons.

That... is 'Home'!"

We begin with such a strong and meaningful message and metaphor about the bonds that keep us around, that tie us to the ones we love. The message is clear and powerful, it literally gives me chills. And then, the next thing we see is Allen realizing he's back from Nea's conscience's world and showing, for a second, his ultimate relief in being back. This moment is so rewarding to me, and extremely important to his development. We all love Allen for how human he is, and seeing how afraid he was, it becomes ten times more rewarding. His weaknesses make him palpable and strongly moves our heart; we take in the moment as if it happened to us, as if we were back to a loved one's arms after being lost and alone for so long ourselves. I also love Tiedoll's participation in this chapter! The scene on which the Maker of Eden forms the wagon underneath Allen and Johnny is amazingly drawn!

⭐ Do you have a favorite volume? Without a doubt, it's Volume 3. The Rewinding City arc is still one of my favorites, it hadn't been mentioned yet only because it can't compete with the feelings and plot lore overload we get from the latest chapters hahah. But this arc was the first that made me feel that tingly, warm feeling in my heart. I loved Miranda on the spot and I could see myself on her. It made me so happy to see her finally getting her "thanks", the realization of that moment sank in as hard for me as it did for her. So this spot goes on to the volume that introduced Miranda and her arc!

⭐ Do you like Mana or Nea more? That's hard to answer, as I'm rather lukewarm about both. I'd say I like Nea more because what we see from him is what he has always been; while Mana, on the other hand, has many facets.

We have Mana from when he was younger, Mana from when he was travelling with Allen, and the current Mana that is the Millennium Earl. I do love the Mana Allen met, that I can say for sure! But I'm still waiting to see how he was when younger, if he was any different or not, to decide how I feel about him "as a whole".

So, for the time being, I'm picking Nea. He is fun to see going about, I gotta be honest; it would be nice if he didn't need Allen to be erased to do so, though.

⭐ What’s one thing that you like and dislike about Hallow? If I can be so bold, I'll start saying that what I dislike the most about Hallow is how much slander it gets from the fandom LOL

By all means I understand it delivered a subpar quality, but I don't think it's as terrible as everyone makes it seem. The OG 2006 anime also had a lot of flaws, ranging from adaptation issues (the novels, Lenalee existing in random places, Cross being uncharacterized, Allen being dumbed up for appeal) to small animation choices that were a little poor.

I also agree that Hallow's pacing was rushed, however, it's still not fair comparing both adaptations when one of them had 103 episodes and the other had only 13. It's alright to appreciate both, acknowledge the hard work put into them and I wish people realized that more often.

With that out of the way, I'd say that's basically what I dislike about it. I do have criticism on the animation and things like this, but none of that made me enjoy Hallow less; the things it proposed to cover, like the Artificial Exorcists arc and the Seed of Destruction arc were amazingly done in my opinion. Even if the animation got a little wack in several moments. I do agree it's sad that we didn't get a Zombie arc adaptation, but starting on that note would be... weird, to say the less. So while I regret it, I understand the decision.

Now on to what I like the most about it: I'd say it's the new color palette. Some people say it's too bright, and I totally get it, as I can't bear too much brightness myself! But the new colors are more appealing to me, and as much as I love the OG 2006 anime, at times I thought the colors were too dark/blurry, it was a little hard to see.

Still on that note, I love how Allen is looking in Hallow. Crown Clown now has a glowing effect to it, and it looks awesome in dark scenes! I also love how they didn't make Allen's hair extremely white, but a more natural tone. His white eyelashes are also really pretty.

⭐ What’s your favorite piece of DGM merch? These keychains!

Just look at how cute they are! There are many pieces of merch I like, especially if we take into account the art books, but the bocchi-kun keychains make me want to get them all!

⭐ Follow up question: what’s a piece of merch that you wish existed? I'd love it if we had figures of most of the characters. We got figures for Hallow and they're awesome, but I'd love a figure of Miranda, for example. There was no Lenalee figure as well, and even if I didn't get one of her for myself, I bet it would look awesome!

As always, this got super long, but if you read until here, I wish you have an awesome day! Thank you for reading on 💞

[erin-bo-berin]

Darkest Storms & Brightest Rainbows (Part 1)

MASTERLIST

Part 2

Part 3

Hard Love (unoffical part 4)

Finally, the first part of my “Cat fic” is here! I kept some lines and plot lines from the show, but I also added some different elements. For example, there’s a lot of scenes/references from Entropy and Date Night later on, but I didn’t include much from Red Light. You’ll soon see why.

I began this at the end of last year and didn’t think it would see the light of day as it wasn’t going anywhere. But after some inspiration, I finally finished it. I decided to break it into three parts in honor of the three Cat episodes. Besides, if I had wrote one long fic it would’ve probably been around 15k words. Anyway, this way I can leave you guys hanging in suspense for a little bit (mwhaha 😏). Lastly, I just wanted to say I chose this title for this 3-parter because the characters go through some dark storms but also experience some bright rainbows along the way throughout this story. Enough of my rambling, I hope you all enjoy. 🥰

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (part 1 only has some angst)

Word Count: 4,143

It’s truly fascinating how one small drop can create a ripple in the water.

That was what meeting Spencer Reid was like.

It was a typical day at work at the coffee shop you’d been employed at for almost a year. Life had slowly been getting somewhat back to normal for you. It had been a hard previous year when you lost both parents to a car crash. Living alone was difficult, but you were making it work.

It was like a breath of fresh air to find work in a DC neighborhood cafe. You loved being able to form relationships with some frequent customers and hear about their days; it was surprisingly very cathartic to connect with so many people after feeling so much loss. 

There had been a small breather between waves of numerous customers when he had first appeared at your counter for a coffee.

His order was just as unique as he was; coffee with whole milk and a little bit of honey. 

He was cute. He was really cute. 

His shaggy brown hair was probably just a touch too long and in need of a cut, but his loose curls made it work and it looked good on him. He had light eyes that would shift from green to brown, depending on how the sun shone through the window next to the counter and a smile so bright it rivaled the sun’s rays.

Something else you’d noticed, he was tall. Possibly 6 feet, if you were to guess. With a lean frame and a slight shyness about him, you were instantly intrigued. 

You saw him more often, never managing to get his name, but managing to pick up the tiniest details about him.

There was a slight cleft to his chin, a shadow of a feature that was dominant in some others, but only was fully shown on him at certain angles.

The same went for the chameleon like dimples he sported, only showing up now and then. Every time, they made your stomach flutter, just about as much as he did.

He had a smattering of freckles that you could mainly see only up close. Not the usual freckles that would be across the bridge of the nose and cheeks on an average person, but random ones. A few under the outer corner of one eye, a lone one on the far side of his forehead, one on the side of his cheek, just along his cheekbone, another larger one on the opposite side just underneath his earlobe, plus many more tiny ones scattered everywhere.

Everything about him was unique.

His hands were large and gentle, always carefully handing you money for his drink and taking his order from you.

He was sweet and always polite, asking you how your day was going, wishing you a good day when he left. 

He also had these small habits of licking his lips or squinting his eyes just the tiniest bit, without even being aware of the actions.

It was actually a bit pathetic how much you’d learned about this stranger yet couldn’t even muster up the courage to ask for his name.

It was one day, maybe six months after you’d first met the handsome stranger when you decided to take a chance.

He’d come in bright and early before 8 am dressed in gray dress pants, a purple dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a two toned purple tie. Slung across his body and resting on his hip was his usual tan satchel that you’d seen him with every day. You didn’t even have a clue what his job was.

“Morning,” he greeted with a bright smile.

You greeted him back, automatically reaching for his coffee that’d you’d been in the midst of preparing. 

“Large coffee, whole milk and honey?”

“As always,” he chuckled.

Unlike other larger chains, it wasn’t a normal thing to label a person’s drink with their name, so it wasn’t easy to find out his name; hence why you still hadn’t learned it.

You were fastening the lid, about to hand it to him when you asked.

“Um, just out of curiosity, who would this coffee be labeled for?”

The minute the words were out of your mouth you wanted to take them back. It sounded so awkward and weird. Labeled for? You wanted to hit yourself.

A small smile tugged on his lips.

“Spencer. Nice to meet you—” he paused, waiting for you to fill in with your name.

“Y/N.”

He took his drink, turning to leave before pausing.

“Have a great day, Y/N.”

Less than a month later, you’d gone on your first date with Spencer.

•

Three years later, life looked a lot different. 

You no longer worked at the coffee shop, but now worked from home. It took a little time, but you eventually found out you had a passion for being a social media manager for different brands. You loved social media and posting content for brands was rather fun.

You and Spencer had hit it off during that first date, considering you’d been dating for almost three years now.

As much as you missed your previous work family, you had a big new family that you’d come to be an (unofficial) part of, within these last few years.

You had finally found out after a few dates that Spencer worked for the FBI in a unit called the Behavioral Analysis Unit as a profiler; a position that uses an art of studying behavior and a lot of psychology to catch killers. It was interesting, but dangerous work. It did come with some good things though, like a work family that was like a real family. You, too, had grown close to his team members through the last few years. They were like the family you had desperately needed since your parents’ passing.

It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows in the BAU between the long hours and dangerous cases, but you were always there for Spencer. You were so proud of him and impressed by how good he was at his job; you were also proud to call him your boyfriend.

Recently, the BAU was dealing with a group of assassins, some that were hired through the deepest parts of the dark web. It had begun with one hit man that specialized in making his hits look like accidents. He had been seeking revenge on his customers and that led to the BAU discovering that there were a whole network of hitmen, each known for their own method of killing.

There was a chemist.

A sniper.

A bomber.

And the deadliest of them all, Ms. .45.

A black widow, Spencer called her.

She’d been the only one to evade capture and Spencer was going to be the one to lure her out. 

You were freaked, to put it mildly. Just from what Spencer had told you about this woman, you knew dangerous didn’t even begin to describe her. 

Unlike her former “co-workers”, she liked to be up close and personal with her targets. She played her games and when she was done, she’d shoot them without a morsel of guilt to drag her conscious down.

“Spencer, I really don’t think you should do this.”

You were sitting on the bed, watching him loosen his tie as he simultaneously told you about this case and changed out of his work clothes.

“Y/N, it’s better if I do it,” he said, turning to face you, his tie now hanging undone around his neck.

“Why you though?”

It wasn’t often that you argued and you couldn’t exactly count this as a fight, but you both definitely stood on opposite sides of this matter.

“I’m the closest to her age on the team. If anything goes wrong, she’ll be most likely to negotiate with a peer.”

“But Spencer,” you frowned, “I don’t like the sound of how dangerous she is. If she believes that you’re a client, she could kill you.”

“We aren’t going to let it get that far,” he assured, sitting down on the side of the bed, next to you.

“I just worry about you, always being in dangerous situations. I know it’s just a part of dating someone who works in your profession, but what if something happens to you?”

You can’t help the tiny crack of emotion in your voice and he pulls you into his arms.

“Nothing will happen to me, okay?” 

You nodded into his chest and he pulled back, frowning at you.

“I don’t like to see you sad. I want to see that pretty smile of yours.”

His fingers tickled your side and you tried to hold back the laugh bubbling in your throat. You were extremely ticklish and he only ever used that against you at a time like this.

“Stop,” you squealed, trying to wriggle away from his touch, but he kept tickling you.

“Nope, not a chance,” he grinned.

You fell back on the bed, laughing and squirming as he continued his tickle torture.

“There we go,” he smiled, satisfied, “There’s that smile.”

You grinned more shyly as he cupped your face with his hand and kissed you gently.

“Just be safe, okay?”

“Always.”

He kissed you again, his lips parting from yours to trail down your jaw to your neck.

“Is this your way of distracting me?” you chuckled.

“Hmm, maybe,” he smirked.

“No complaints from this corner.”

His lips returned to yours, kissing you with such intensity, it left you breathless for a moment. Your lips moved with his, your hands tangled in his hair.

The rest of the evening was spent doing nothing other than a little fooling around.

•

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Garcia asked.

On the screen of her computer you saw Spencer entering the restaurant and speaking to the hostess before being seated.

“I’m sure,” came a moment later.

“We’ll protect him Y/N.”

This statement came from Aaron Hotchner—Hotch for short—, Spencer’s boss. You were grateful that Hotch had even let you be here, yet still the dread twisted in your stomach.

Garcia had hacked into the cameras to allow you three to see what was going on during this take down. Spencer sat facing the camera.

Only moments after he’d been seated at the table did a petite woman walk up.

She was slim with a short, angled cut. Her dark hair seemed to be in perfect place, just like the fake smile she was showing. She was dressed in a form fitting teal, sleeveless dress. The bottom was embellished in some sort of sparkling beads or perhaps rhinestones. She looked harmless enough, but you knew better. Looks could be very deceiving.

“Reid, we have you over her left shoulder. Do you copy?”

You watch as your boyfriend briefly glances straight towards the camera and taps a quick, stealthy answer on the table, with two fingers.

“I already hate her,” you glowered at the screen, watching as her hand lingered on his arm, seduction written all over her face.

“Put the claws away tiger,” Penelope muttered.

“So, how far along is your wife?” the hit woman you now know was named Cat, asked.

You watch Spencer swallow nervously, playing the part of an apprehensive first time customer.

“A few months. Do you, uh mind if we don’t talk about her?”

Cat was quiet for a moment. You can’t see her face, but somehow you just know she’s studying him.

“Let me see your ring.”

He furrowed his brows, but took it off handing it to her.

“You say you’ve been married for four years, right Spencer?” She studies the band, turning it over in her hand.

“Yeah.”

“For a 24 karat ring, it sure looks rather cheap. Apparently she loves you as much as you love her,” she tossed the ring on the table with a clank.

“Also, if it were four years old, it’d look more worn, don’t you think?”

You hear a click over the audio. It sounded suspiciously like a gun cocking and your eyes widened in horror.

Penelope gasped.

“Is that what I think it was?” 

“Yes,” Hotch answered her, “She knows.”

“You’re not married Spencer.” Her gun was pointing at him under the table, unbeknownst to the other diners in the restaurant.

“And guess what? I didn’t walk into your trap. You walked into mine.”

“Oh no,” Penelope breathed.

“I’ve got a gun pointed at your crotch right now, Spencer. What’s to stop me from taking you and the little ones out right now? It’d be such a shame; doesn’t Y/N want kids?”

“Hotch,” you growled, “He didn’t sign up for this.”

“He knows what he’s doing. Let him handle this. If it truly becomes a dire situation, we have backup in there with him.”

You pick at your nails, tuning back into Spencer and Cat’s conversation.

He ignored her remark, continuing to stare her down.

“You honestly think I’m dumb enough to waltz in here thinking you’re just another deadbeat asshole that’s tired of his wife? I know way more than you think I do. The BAU is the only one that got this close to us. But I’m still the only one left,” she smirked.

“Doesn’t mean anything. I’m good at what I do,” Spencer retorted.

“Tell me. Are you this cocky with Y/N?”

Your eyes narrowed, glaring at the screen.

“I’d love to shove my foot right up her-”

“Y/N,” Hotch chided.

“Sorry.”

She’d scooted around the booth closer to him, her hand sliding into his suit jacket and down his button down shirt. You couldn’t clearly see what she was doing, but you got the general idea. He jumped when her hand brushed his crotch before reaching into the waist of his pants, pulling out his gun with a smirk.

“So tell me, did you actually knock her up or was that just part of your cover? I mean unless you’re here to put a hit on her which is totally fine by me. I’m not one for commitment either.”

“You leave her out of this,” he growled, glaring at her.

“I bet you’re wondering how I know about her, right? Probably the same way I know that Blondie over there is part of your team, just waiting to take me down. Am I right?”

Spencer stayed quiet, his gaze hard on her.

“Do me a favor and tell her to take a hike will you?”

“Stand down,” Hotch says from next to you. You know enough about the plan to know that the entire team can hear messages from him here at the BAU.

You watched as JJ set the drink she’d been sipping on, down on the bar. She’d dressed in leather pants, a low cut black top with a quarter length sleeved, maroon fur jacket over it to appear as just another fancy dinner guest. She passed their table before disappearing into the kitchen.

“Thanks for playing, sweetie,” Cat smiled at her disappearing form.

“Now, tell me more about yourself Spencer. Why don’t you?” 

Cat rested her chin in her hand and watched him, her gun laying by her side where she could have easy access to it.

“Don’t you already know all about me?”

“True,” she made a face, “Then tell me all about me.”

“Well, for one, you’re quite loquacious.” 

“I’m gonna pretend that means sexy,” she grinned flirtatiously.

“Gag me with a spoon,” you mumbled.

“Now, like I said,” Cat continued, “Tell me about me.”

“You’re a psychopath that runs a different course than the rest of your fellow hit men. You like to be up close and personal, watch men lie and try to seduce them all before turning on them and killing them. Which in itself speaks to many deep rooted issues.”

“Is that your way of saying I’m just another woman with daddy issues?”

“You said it, not me.”

“So, how exactly did you find me?” She rested her chin on her laced fingers and cocked her head at him.

“Does it matter?”

“Of course.”

“Fine. It all started unraveling when we first took down what we thought was a lone hit man. One who specified in making hits look like accidents.”

You can hear Spencer still talking through the monitor as you paced back and forth behind Hotch and Garcia, your nerves getting the best of you.

You jump when you hear loud feedback from the mic.

“What was that?”

“She muffled the mic. We lost audio,” Penelope grimaced.

On the screen, you can see Cat’s hand on his tie, thumb over the microphone, her mouth moving as she says something to Spencer. He turns in the direction where Rossi was slyly approaching their table. 

With a few words that were unheard to the three of you, Rossi backed off, heading towards the kitchen.

“She caught on to Dave being there too,” Hotch mumbled.

“Hotch, this is not going as you planned, is it?”

Your question remained unanswered and by the way his posture remained rigid you knew you were right. That did little to reassure you.

“Entropy reigns supreme in this whole situation,” you grumbled.

You looked over and saw Hotch and Garcia staring at you quizzically.

“What? Isn’t another definition for that, lack of order or predictability or gradual decline into disorder?”

Hotch arched an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe I used it wrong. I’ve heard Spencer use it before. This is why he’s the genius and not me.”

Nothing else was said on the matter as you three’s attention was turned back to the screen where Cat was talking to Spencer again.

“I’ll let that slide considering I learned something important about you.”

“What’s that?” Spencer questioned.

“Your backup. I’ve flushed them out. It’s just you and me now.”

“Guess again, bitch,” you mumbled.

You knew, as well as the rest of the team, that Tara and Morgan were still in there.

“I know you’re stalling, but why?”

“Cause I know there has to be a pretty impressive crowd of agents out front, just waiting to take me down.”

“You’d be correct,” Spencer deadpanned.

“Which is why you’re going to walk me out of here. I get away with no issues and no one gets hurt. If not,” she paused.

She ran her fingertips over the gun that she’d moved to the table, just in his line of sight.

“I have a fully loaded gun that can do quite some damage.”

“You won’t do it though,” he challenged.

“Oh wouldn’t I?”

“No because shooting up a restaurant isn’t your style. You’re more calculated than that. You like less mess, more mind games.” 

“So you do understand me, Spencer,” she smirked, “Then you’d understand that I need you to call off all the FBI agents so I can leave quietly.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Spencer shrugged, not breaking his eye contact from her, “I’m not letting you walk out of here if I have to hold you down myself.”

“Would you hold me down and leave bruises that wouldn’t go away?” she purred.

“Is that what you want?”

“I bet that’s what Y/N wants,” Garcia mumbled.

You opened your mouth to respond, not sure if she meant you doing bodily harm to Cat or your wanting Spencer to do that to you.

“Focus,” Hotch reprimanded.

“No, I want the agents cleared.” Her hand tightened on her piece.

“Everyone stand down,” Hotch ordered, “We let her walk. Reid let her go.”

“Well?” Cat pressed.

You saw him bite his lip, clearly trying to make up his mind what to do.

“Reid. Let her go.”

“Spencer?” 

Cat was getting annoyed, that much you could tell and you knew she was definitely a person you didn’t piss off.

“Fine, you can go.”

She gathered her things, standing up to leave.

“But you won’t,” Spencer said.

She turned, gazing at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I found your father,” Spencer challenged.

“Reid, what are you doing?” Hotch asked, glancing at Garcia who just shrugged in response.

“Spencer, no,” you whispered, anxiety flooding your senses.

He was playing with fire and if he wasn’t careful, he was going to get burned.

“Tell me where he is,” Cat demanded.

“Sit down and I will.”

You glance at the two next to you.

“This wasn’t part of the plan, was it?”

“No,” came the terse answer from Hotch.

You see her sit once again across from Spencer.

“To prepare for tonight, I had to do my research on you,” he started.

“Is that so?”

“Lewis, Morgan, try to clear out the restaurant as subtly as possible. If this goes wrong, she could start shooting. I don’t want any injuries on my conscience tonight,” Hotch commanded. 

You didn’t see their movement on the screen, but within a few minutes there were more than the normal amount of waiters moving along the tables.

“I found your father Cat,” Spencer continued, in effort to distract her.

“You’re lying.”

“Does it look like I’m lying?”

“No, but I know you are because I never mentioned that I found him myself. He’s been dead for years, Spencer.”

You saw her reach for her gun at the exact moment a commotion towards the front of the restaurant broke out. You couldn’t see on screen what was happening, but it was all the distraction she needed.

Hotch was barking orders and you heard Spencer shouting something to Morgan.

It was later you found out that against Lewis and Morgan’s wishes, someone—most likely a waiter—had started freaking out. Whether that caused the following events to happen or not you would never know, but it sure didn’t help them either.

“Oh my god,” Penelope gasped.

Your eyes were glued to the screen and the horrible events that were beginning to unfold.

Cat had Spencer by the arm and her gun was pointed directly at him. She had him in her claws and she wasn’t about to let him go without a fight.

“Get everyone out of here!” Spencer hollered.

You heard the rest of the people fleeing the dining room, Tara aiding them, but you didn’t take your eyes off of Cat and Spencer.

“Well lookie here,” she grinned up at Spencer, “Back where we started. You and me and a gun.”

“We can talk this out,” Morgan said, slowly approaching, his gun still aimed Cat's way.

“I don’t know Agent Morgan,” she smirked, “I don’t like liars. How do I know that Spencer is true to his word? He’s already lied once.”

“Let him go and we’ll talk,” Morgan said.

“It’s too late for that.”

A loud crash came from the front of the restaurant. Distraction number two. You couldn’t tell if it had been planned by Cat or not, either way, it was her perfect moment to strike.

Multiple gunshots sounded. 

Time slowed down.

Penelope cried out.

Hotch cursed.

You fell to your knees.

In a split second Cat had shot Spencer and he went down, bright red blood beginning to stain his dress shirt. 

Shots were fired from Morgan’s gun. Tara went running after Cat, Morgan went running to Spencer’s side.

There was commotion on the screen. Tara came back in from the direction of the kitchen where Cat had run. Luck must have been on her side because she had disappeared into the night.

Everything changed in one quick moment.

Spencer had been shot and Cat had gotten away.

•

You had no memory of how you’d managed to get from the BAU to the hospital, but here you were, fidgeting in a chair, tears streaming down your face. You hadn’t even had a chance to see him before you got to the hospital and you were wracked with worry with how he was.

The last thing you remembered was falling to the floor, your head feeling woozy as you tried to process what was unfolding before your eyes. 

Spencer had been rushed into emergency surgery and you waited anxiously with the rest of the team in the waiting room. You were positive you hadn’t stopped shaking since you heard the gun go off.

The awful sound rang in your ears and every time you closed your eyes, all you could see was Spencer falling to the ground, blood soaking his shirt.

You looked up when you heard the click of heels and saw JJ coming back with an update on Spencer. The look on her face sent a feeling of cold, icy, fear through your body.

“He didn’t make it,” she whispered.

A buzzing sound rang in your ears and you were sure you’d heard wrong. 

“What?” you croaked.

“Spencer’s gone,” she choked out.

The guttural sobs that came from deep within you didn’t even sound human. Your anger and your pain melted into one.

Cat Adams would pay for this.

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[kendrixtermina]

Assorted House of Feanor Thoughts

I wrote this as a reply to someone, but then realized that this should be a post of its own. 

Line between extrapolation, interpretation & headcanon is going to be fluid here

Long post under cut

The seven sons in general:

all moody, fierce, intense and brilliant, each in various different ways

none of them can really stand to be cooped up in one place for long

F R E C K L E S you will not convince me otherwise

Apart from the ones explicitly described as pretty (ie, Maedhros and Celegorm) they’re actually relatively plain by elf standards, or at least sort of rugged-looking, especially compared to their part-Vanyar cousins - I mean, figures that some would turn out more like Miriel or Nerdanel both of which were supposedly more average.

all are very resourceful having spent most of their lives helping out with their parent’s projects, exploring the wilderness, or (save for Celegorm) hanging out in Aule’s halls. Most can probably whip up a steampunk or magitech solution to basic war-related problems

Because of this they’re a very tight-knit group

growing up, they did not know many children their age; Ironically the most contact they had was with their cousins because Feanor paid semi-regular visits to Finwe. Apart from Turgon (and Orodreth if you place him in the second rather than the third post-journey generation) the cousins really dug the adventure stories. (Galadriel pretended not to be interested and offered plenty of critiques, but listened anyways)

more survival skills and just a lot more casual than your average princes

They’d all been adults for a good while by the time of the rebellion; the twins are a tad older than Aredhel, Galadriel and Argon; Caranthir and Angrod are about the same age. Curufin is younger than Aegnor.

They all look back at that trip to the lightless shore of the outer sea as a cherished family memory

Also I don’t think Feanor disciplined his sons very much after all his own father let him get away with everything. In his eyes the brats can do no wrong especially not Curufin and to a lesser extent Amrod Nerdanel tried her best to counterbalance this and it kind of worked on some of them, but the three middle ones were a lost cause

I think a lot of the weight behind the oath comes from how Feanor made them promise him to see it through on his deathbed. It was his literal last wish.

Maedhros:

The Leader™, the most strong-willed and the deadliest fighter by a huge margin. What the orc under your bed has nightmares about.

Obviously a very competent diplomat, strategist, and the sort to put constructive results over personal glory; resilient, formidable, unpretentious and tough as leather

but not at all overconfident, and the type who is not blind to the flaws of the people he loves. He knows very well that Feanor wasn’t perfect and does many things that his father would not have agreed with - at the same time he has a strong sense of obligation, honor and loyalty which turns out to be his fatal flaw in the end when being loyal and keeping his word  increasingly requires him to do dishonorable things

if there was a definite breaking point it was the fiasco with Dior’s sons

Stoic but courteous and eloquent; From Finwe’s death onwards increasingly grim, grizzled and not very hopeful, though he’s the sort to give his all and try to be noble even when there’s no reward or even thanks or respect.

Despite this, he has as a dry sense of humor and at times uses it to defuse tense situations or disarm people he’s negotiating with (see the scene with Thingol’s message) - does have a streak of gallows humor to him especially after the Thangorodrim incident

As the heir Feanor actually let him in on trade secrets and scientific speculation; Their relationship is probably the most equal; I do think Feanor was capable of actually appreciating that Maedhros got a mind of his own and isn’t afraid to stand up for himself. Feanor values independent thought, even if he’s not always good at really living that value with his tendency to take things personally and see others as taking sides for or against him.  

Can’t really craft stuff to the same degree without his right hand. He then focussed on more abstract/mental pursuits which were perhaps his forte, to begin with but it still bothers him more than he lets on, especially since he still retains, or swiftly regained, his skill at making things dead. 

He may or may not qualify as a cinnamon roll but he definitely looks like could kill you

Maglor:

Maedhros might have been the token responsible sibling, but Maglor was the understanding, comforting one and always had a nurturing streak - hence why he was the one to take in the kids.

Sensitive Artistic Type™ - goes from quirky and passionate back in Valinor to melancholy & tormented as the war drags on

one of those people who despair over & get self-critical over their work even when it’s regarded as masterpieces

Like Feanor and Miriel before him, he tends to get super absorbed in his work/art and just plain disappears for days

Now some ppl hold that he didn’t start having second thoughts until near the end, but judging from how he comes along to Fingolfin’s party or to hang out with Finrod, I’d hold that he was always ‘the nice/gentle one’, but not solely in a positive way; Unlike Maedhros he did not stand up to Feanor about the thing with the ships and indeed lets Maedhros talk him out of turning himself in at the very end, so he’s probably somewhat lacking in assertiveness

Even so, he’s probably one of the better fighters, given the difficult territory he gets, that he’s the one to kill Ulfang, and how long he survives. He probably feels ambivalent about this. 

I imagine him having an agility-based fighting style

Probably codified the heroic epos as a specifically Noldorin art form

Celegorm:

A lot of ppl focus on the barbarian aspect, but I’d say he actually has some degree of ‘subverted prince charming’ going on, with how he sweet-talks Luthien at first before throwing her in the dungeon, and how he seems to have been one of the more accomplished ones, joining a respected order and all

He’s actually pretty elegant and perhaps playfully gallant, but it’s a facade; He’s an animal underneath; though his instincts are probably somewhat nobler than what ends up happening when he gets roped into Curufin’s schemes

usually, the first to react and leap into action when something happens.

Herculean strength, daunting presence

also a fairly efficient general, if a bit of a glory hound and pretty fearless in the pursuit of victory

very much has an ego and doesn’t like being humbled at all

Strikes me as the sort of person who would take badly to the realization that they can no longer return to the glory of the past or being judged unworthy, not that he’d respond with anything but defiance

Wrestles giant monsters barehanded

Always low-key wished to fight creatures of darkness before the rebellion to test his might against them; Orome and the Maiar members of the hunt would have told stories of them

though he gets his pretty face from Daddy, his strong build comes from Nerdanel, possibly somewhat accentuated by his being a dude

Caranthir:

grumpy, moody, no filter, likes his alone time, shows his feelings mostly through actions, also somewhat pragmatic

the quartermaster; Actually one of the smarter ones, if not outright the second smartest after Curufin, though he has more a logistic/administrative sort of intelligence

generally one of the more prosaic, practical family members, or maybe he’s just more subtle about his dramatic side or has a harder time expressing it. Definitely has Hidden Dephts™

I mean, putting your hideout on the slope of a mountain near a deep, dark lake circled by mountains? Goth AF. A+ aesthetic there.

Hosts the family get-togethers at his fortress. Has most certainly shoved Celegorm and Curufin in the lake at some point

has a certain respect for strength, valor and skill even in ppl he doesn’t necessarily like; Not at all diplomatic or polite, but also not finicky or fastidious, so actually forged a whole lot of alliances on a “everyone’s money/swords are equally good and we don’t have to set conditions” basis and seems to have been pretty successful at this

started out haughty but definitely learned to be more open-minded/ broaden his horizon over his time in Beleriand - but as no good deed goes unpunished, Ulfang happens

Whereas Curufin and Celegorm can put up a noble veneer but will totally stab you in the back if provoked, Caranthir’s sort of the opposite, in that he’s rude and quarrelsome on first contact but has a good heart deep down (see the Haladin incident) and doesn’t keep grudges long term once he’s done grumbling where Celegorm is sore loser and Curufin a spiteful twerp.

though personally, I don’t see Caranthir as trying to reign himself in. He wouldn’t really be known as “the harshest” in that case. Who was gonna teach him to behave himself, Feanor maybe? kek. 

Curufin:

We have a lot of actual dialogue & description for him - he has this characteristic little defiant smile, is often coldly contemptuous in tone, some level of ruthless pragmatism

has mild/vague foresight - nothing as impressive as what Finrod and Galadriel have, but he has it more or less to the degree that Feanor did.

actually pretty insightful, thought-through and political-minded in some ways, too bad he shares Feanor’s tendency for unwarranted suspicion and factionalism, as well as a tendency to just act on his own without checking with anyone

always either filthy from work or fully blinged-out and impeccably groomed, no in-between

more calculated and subtle than Feanor - not that Feanor ever needed calculation or subtlety since he could get by on sheer awe or intimidation. Celegorm and Maedhros have that same quality in spades and Curufin’s a little bit jealous

Not actually that much older than the twins, but always acted older than his age, especially once he heard that Feanor was the same

collects weapons, loves fancy horses, the most traditionally aristocratic of the seven

Got married relatively young; saw it as a matter of honor to further his family’s line

continued his scholarly pursuits in Beleriand; this is part of why he elected to share a territory with Celegorm

The last Celebrimbor ever heard of him was a magically sealed box filled with research notes he sent out in case he didn’t make it out alive

Did not take his parents’ estrangement well and is stubbornly salty toward Nerdanel (though deep down he misses her as much as his brothers if not more)

Frequently the Bad Influence/ Shoulder Devil to his brothers.

But when he gets excited about his research/craft he’s got this “exited cocky little boy” side to him that’s surprisingly pure. 

Only Nerdanel and possibly Celebrimbor’s mom are allowed to call him ‘Atarinke.’ His brothers might still use it when they’re teasing or scolding him. 

The Twins:

Every time a fic does something else with them than “generic prankster redheads” I cry with joy

We don’t have that many data points on them, but most of them suggest they’re every bit as fierce as their brothers

they’re somewhat aloof & mostly do their own thing;

As kids they’d mostly sit in a corner and play with each other. Possibly deliberately played up their identicalness as a kind of emo fashion statement / to fuck with people (”Should we do this Ambarussa?” - ”I don’t know, what do you think, Ambarussa?”)

never really gave up their semi-nomadic ways

Compared to Celegorm they probably more on stealth and precision than strength and bravado. They suddenly appear in front of you, and bam! You’ve got an arrow poking out of your face. Probably the ones scouting the perimeter of the camp.

Amras is a bit sassier, but it’s actually Amrod who’s a little bit braver.

Hardly ever argued until their parents’ estrangement; That led to quite a few quarrels between them.

For all his faults, Feanor made a point of doing things with each of them individually.

quietly nursing some level of pent-up despair and frustration until they push for the assault on Sirion

In the version where one of them dies, and then no one ever talks about it, - I imagine that the remaining one ended up cynical in a “let’s just get it ever with we’re already doomed after all’ kind of way

Bonus:

Celebrimbor

“Curiosity killed the cat but the second mouse gets the cheese” incarnate. He’s a sweet, excitable,  deeply good guy, but Curiosity is the strongest force within him, besides maybe “think of the potential”

very bold in his thinking, not held back by any conventional boundaries. This is partially why he ended up more independent than his father and uncles but ironically that might in a sense make him more similar to grandpa than any of them

Really looks like Feanor. Like, Arwen and Luthien level of resemblance. It takes ppl a bit to notice because of how different his general demeanor and surface-level personality is. 

Very scattered and absent-minded, prone to sudden flashes of inspiration, often shows up in some form of disarray

spent his adolescence at Formenos. Retained a certain affinity for wintery places ever since

He sensed something fishy about Sauron before long, but between wanting to avoid the family propensity for unwarranted suspicion and being tempted by all the possibilities of what he could do with that power/knowledge even if it did come from a fishy source, he didn’t act before it was too late - he can't have been fully clueless since he hid the three; There was definitely just a bit of actual seduction/forbidden fruit appeal in place there, whether to use the word “hubris” probably depends on your philosophy. 

He drops the ‘th’ once he renounces Curufin, but slips right back into the old habit when excited or exasperating. At some point during his rule of Eregion, he stops bothering to hide it - A similar thing happens when he’s talking Sindarin with his northeast Beleriand accent. 

I know this is a very popular old hat headcanon, but... His other name is also “Curufinwe”. Everyone called him Telperinquar from the start, lest all three come running and grumble about being distracted from work, but after the Nargothrond debacle, he had other reasons for not using it. But really, Telperinquar/Celebrimbor is just another more metaphorical way to say “this baby shall be good at working with his hands” so yeah

My HC for where he was between the Finrod incident and the second age is as follows: He departed for war with Gwindor’s troupe (this is someone who tried to engineer a way around entropy - not a “do nothing” sort of guy) and fled the battlefield with Turgon. (hence some of the passages that place him in Gondolin can still be made to work. He totally made Earendil’s baby-sized mail coat) He fled with Idril’s party. Had she not tipped him off somehow he would probably have died with the rest of the smith’s guild. Or perhaps he grabbed all the valuable records he could find and ran for it because someone needed to preserve them. As living surrounded by the survivors of Doriath would have been awkward to say the least, he went to the isle of Balar to offer his skills and service to Gil-Galad. This is where he befriended/ reconnected with Galadriel and Celeborn. 

Finrod once told him the “faithful stone” legend from Brethil. It would be an inspiration to him much later. Generally credits Finrod with being a good influence on him. 

Judging by the stars on the doors of Durin his stance on his family probably softened over the years. He essentially attained their original new dream of exploring distant lands and building unparalleled new realms, at least for a while - also definitely has a similar “screw destiny!”/ “I defy you stars!” attitude. Perhaps he wanted to see their vision done right. 

But on some level, I think he also wanted to associate himself with their fame eventually especially once his own accomplishments grew. His feelings were probably always very ambiguous because he must have admired and envied their great works but also lived getting weird looks whenever he did what he’s best at and loves doing most in the world because it associates him with these very ambiguous people whom many hated... at one point in the past he must have really admired his father and grandfather, I mean, he came with them across the sea. 

Nerdanel

She got Feanor the apprenticeship / gave him the idea after they met on their travels. 

Were seen as something of an eccentric hippie/ hipster couple in the early days

She’s tough, confident and definitely quipped/ yelled back at times. Definitely described as ‘strong-willed’ and individual. Like this was a ‘kindred spirits’ thing before everything went to hell

it counts for something that even during the ugly bitter parting scene the worst Feanor could say was “someone must’ve turned you against me because you definitely cared once” rather than “you’re a traitor” for all that everything else in that scene made him very punchable

Their relationship dynamic, as I see it, is that she’s the one person who just sees and treats him like a normal dude. No apprehension, no fawning. He’s not “the greatest” or a tainted aberration to her, he’s simply a like-minded friend. So she’s pretty chill about his idiosyncrasies and doesn’t see them as a big deal, but on the other hand, she’s not overawed and will not take bullshit

Since she is good at understanding people she probably usually gets where he’s coming from even when he’s not being reasonable

possibly invented abstract art; was most certainly influential. 

the elves who serve Aule probably have their own little traditions. She might’ve imparted some of those on her descendants

Also ppl tend to forget that she also does metalwork. Again, it’s quite possible that she got him into it and that if they’d never met, he might have landed in a completely different discipline

I think it says a lot about Feanor that he chose her for being smart, creative and independent-minded. It shows that he actually values these things and that it’s not just a rhetorical device;  he’s not a hypocrite, he failed at what he was genuinely trying to aim for. 

She had Finwe won over the moment she mentioned that she likes children. To Feanor’s chagrin, she proclaimed that his then-tiny half-siblings were the cutest thing ever but since he was trying to impress Nerdanel, he actually kept his composure there. 

She was totally buds with Earwen and Anaire. 

I really like those fics where she played some part in the reconstruction efforts. She’s already renowned for her wisdom and has some familiarity with the court, so why wouldn’t Finarfin make her an advisor? 

Miriel

She was described as having “silver” hair like what the teleri sometimes have, but that was for lack of a better world. It’s actually pretty close to pure white. It was an unprecedented anomaly. Celegorm got it. Though overall Maglor might be the one who most looks like her. Or maybe Caranthir. 

Well, her tendency to refuse to eat her words no matter what has certainly proven highly heritable

Canonically one of those ppl who talks very fast 

Feanor doesn’t look very much like her at all, but he talks like her and is similar in his body language etc. The shape of her hands, however, has made it all the way to Celebrimbor in an unbroken line. Maglor’s got em too. 

She was the only one of her family to make the great journey. That’s why “the names of her kin are not recorded”. You see, they tried to convince her not to go, and that only made her more determined. 

Miriel and Indis used to have this thing where Miriel would sing while Indis plays the instrument. First time Indis caught Maedhros and Fingon doing something similar she got very emotional about it. She told them how she and Miriel also used to have a sort of odd friendship despite their opposite looks and personalities. Maedhros had at this point never even heard that they used to be friends. She proceeded to tell him some fun stories from Miriel’s youth and encouraged the two to spend time together. 

We’re told that Miriel and Finwe only got together in Valinor; Since Indis had a thing for him since before the Vanyar moved out of Tirion it’s fully possible that Indis actually liked him first. Maybe she actually introduced them to each other, like she wasn't confident enough to ask him on a date so she brought her friend, only for the two to be immediately smitten with each other. Poor Indis decided that she had no chance and moved out of town when Ingwe did. 

Miriel definitely expresses her love/admiration in the way of “You! You’re perf! I must make art of you!”

Since his arrival in the halls of Mandos, Feanor has made several of Vaire’s Maiar cry with his critique of their tapestries, but he holds that his mom’s are best. 

Feanor himself

In general, I hold that while he said many things that were not right, there’s a lot of what he prophecied that was not quite wrong and does come true in a kind of way, even if not necessarily for himself and his family. They sort of pave the way as Promethean figures. The second mouse gets the cheese (it’s usually some Nolofinwean)

Though he’s also the ultimate example of “you are not immune to propaganda”. Literally the smartest man in the world; Still touchy enough to be an easy mark for emotional manipulation. 

I think a lot of ff undersells what a polymath he must’ve been and that part where he worked on many different topics and was “the most learned”. 

You know the type of author who has a bazillion unfinished wips going and jumps wildly from topic to topic? Feanor’s research notes are exactly like that, especially the tendency to disintegrate into cryptic jottings and notes right before the most interesting part.  Just like the unfinished texts from HoMe Just like Gauss or Euler, having invented everything a hundred years ahead and 40% more discoveries buried that he never felt ready to publish. (I can also definitely see the sons – especially Maedhros and Curufin – spending the better part of the siege of Angband compiling some of it into a presentable format. Celebrimbor would then be the one to stumble upon implications /corollaries that had somehow been missed for thousands of years. 

For all that I enjoy fics where they’re all smoll and adorable as much as the next person, canonically we’re given every indication that he was an adolescent or young adult by the time the remarriage occurred. The published silm has him “well-nigh full-grown” by the time Indis started having kids; In the HoME passage detailing the romantic meeting on the mountain it’s said that he was “wandering in the mountains” (ie, old enough to do so on his own) at the time. He moved out as soon as he could, so he and his half-siblings never actually spent any significant time in the same household

I mean, he reacted like a teenager would, and IMHO neither his character nor Finwe’s make any sense if this wasn’t a single parent situation early on. 

Personally, I really don’t like that headcanon that he was nicer to the sisters for no reason. I don’t think his relationship with Fingolfin was ever much better than the sort of “awkwardly tolerating” we saw at the reconciliation scene; At the same time, I don’t think things would ever have escalated to that degree if Melkor hadn’t gone mucking things up. 

In the same vein, I don’t think he always had beef with the Valar. He used to hang out in Aule’s halls and let Celegorm study with Orome after all and studied their language. - he certainly seems to have had some romanticism for the Hither Lands evident in his speeches, he traveled far past the well-lit areas, made crystals that shine in starlight etc. so he was probably always somewhat independent-minded and he certainly knew, better than anyone, that the Valar are imperfect and can’t fix everything (they couldn’t heal Miriel after all) - but it’s a long way from healthy skepticism and understandable disappointment to asserting bad intentions where there are none. 

There’s a long way between not wanting a relationship with someone, and pointing stabby objects at them. Feanor was always difficult and never the type of person to be easily satisfied but at the same time, he clearly had his “delight” in his work and life as it was pre-Melkor. He could’ve gone on as an inventor and author of strongly worded opinion pieces; perhaps the elves were even “meant” to go back & come into contact with the Edain for a brief while, just without all the murder. 

The thing about Melkor’s lies is that they made a complicated situation conveniently easy in a way that he (and Fingolfin!) would want to believe. It’s not really either of their fault that they both exist, but if your rival is actually out to get you then suddenly all your negative feelings are justified 

Personally, I don’t think it the remarriage made that much of a difference - Miriel would still be dead. What Feanor’s really mad at is the inherent unfairness of the world. But he can’t fix or fight that, so in a misfire of his engineer’s mindset that thinks in terms of simple cause and effect and wants the world to be logical and controllable, he blamed something tangible (Indis.)

I think Melkor hates him so much because he’s kinda what Melkor wishes he was or likes to think he is. They’re both the mightiest of their respective kinds and don’t really fit in, but Feanor’s actually extremely creative. He goes and does his own thing, and maybe errs in overlooking that no man is an island and that all works are built on those of others, but, look at Melkor who wants all the scale of a group project but none of the “cooperation” part and basically can’t make anything of his own. “You’re like me, yet you’re successful? I cannot allow it!” 

In a sense you have classic Satan and Miltonian satan in the same setting, and they can’t stand each other

[miss-choco-chips]

Reverse Robin au

I wanted to try my hand at both Reverse Robin au and childhood friends DamiTim. So, Headcannons for all!!! 

In which Damian goes from thinking Tim has cooties, to imagining him in leather. Oh, and he trains to be a hero in between. 

Or, in which Tim goes from sassing Damian for being a prick, to sassing him because it’s their own special sort of foreplay.

They are seven and eight, respectively, when they met.

A part of Damian still believes girls have cooties; Timothy is no girl, but his best friend and usual companion is one, so he can’t be that far. Besides, he’s seven, a baby. Still, Mother and Father insist he plays with him, and he loves them too much to say ‘no’ when they ask something so earnestly.

Tim, a hand gripping his mother’s dress, takes one good look at the Wayne Heir, the hand offered to him and a superior sneer on his face, and then glances at his mom. 

‘He’s a prick’, he tells her with his eyes. She smiles benevolently down at him, but he catches the answer behind her Lady facade: ‘I know he is. Still, behave.’

While Mother and Father exchange pleasantries with the Drakes, Damian shakes hands with their son. As Heirs of the two most powerful families of the city (and arguably, the country), they are bound to see a lot of each other. 

The boy, Timothy he introduced himself as, has a very pale, very soft hand. No calluses. Damian, a martial arts enthusiast, can’t help but scoff.

The kid looks him dead in the eye, apparently not missing his reaction. With a completely angelic smile, and the most passive aggressive voice Damian ever heard, he tilted his head and asked.

‘Is there something on your throat, Mr Little Wayne?’ ‘No?’ ‘Oh, then you’re just a naturally unpleasant person’

Before Damian can even answer with a good comeback, the little boy is walking away towards where his friend, Stephanie Brown, daughter of Miss Brown, the head catheter of this events, is waiting. 

Damian is left standing, hand still out where he was shaking the kid’s own, mouth agape as he watches the little brat just leave him. His parents must have missed they ‘conversation’, but Mrs Drake hasn’t, if the equally exasperated and fond look in her eyes was something to go from.

From then on, every time they met, the little monster seemed to have a comeback ready. No matter how Damian prepared himself for their little greetings each time they bumped into the other at a party, Timothy always had some answer waiting under the tip of his tongue, both cutting, smart and deceivingly innocent.

‘Tsk. Again with Brown, I see. Can’t you do anything without your little shadow?’ ‘I can explain to you what friendship is, but I don’t think I can help you understand, sadly.’

‘Damian, I feel twice as happy seeing you as I did last time!’ ‘I’m sure you do…’ ‘Yeah. What’s two times zero?’ ‘...you brat’

‘Timothy. Your suit looks… as nice as it could, given the circumstances, I think‘ ‘And yours looks… well, I guess it’s nice to see not everyone is so obsessed with appearances’.

Both Brown and Mrs Drake seemed to find their exchanges amusing. He’s glad someone does, for he finds them exhausting and full of frustration. The little brat was seven, he shouldn’t be able to always have the last word. Damian was a Wayne. It was unbecoming. 

Still, it was… better than aimlessly follow his parents around. And he could always brag about his physical training success, which never failed to bring a frown to Timothy’s face.

He noticed too how his hand was starting to gain callousness over time. Apparently, someone was bitter about Damian’s training.

When his parents died, murdered in cold blood in front of him at the tender age of ten, he thought himself alone. Then Alfred came for him to the police station and hugged him as tight as Dad used to do, and Timothy walked right to the front seats on the funeral and held his hand during it all.

He had lost his parents, but there were people that cared for him, still. He couldn’t allow himself to fall into despair; he needed to keep this from happening to anyone else. He needed to protect the city his parents had loved.

Back in the Mannor, he endured as countless of strangers gave him their condolences, swallowing his desire to spit in their faces. None cared. Fakes, all of them; in their eyes, he was but a wealthy, vulnerable child, an open door towards the Wayne fortune. 

Timothy’s hand in his, calluses more notable each day and cold eyes keeping the worst of the worst away, kept him in check. He left his side shortly, speaking with his mother in whispers, before coming back and tugging him away. Mrs Drake, as the Waynes most close ally, took Damian’s place in thanking people for their support.

In his room, safe from the world, he broke down in the other child’s arms. Timothy, just one year younger but so much frailer, kept a tight  grip on him, arms around his back and back straight, eyes to the door. A show of strength, of protection; you can cry, I’ll keep watch.

Damian starts his training. Alfred calls master after master, in acrobatics, swordsmanship, hand to hand combat, forensics, everything that would keep his young Master from giving up and quitting on life. Anything to keep him busy, and moving.

Damian finds it humorous, how Timothy looks at him the next time they met at a party and frowns, obviously noticing the trials his body is going through on the lines of it. Something no one else seems to see.

He doesn’t tell Timothy he doesn’t need to work himself to the bone to be equal to Damian, he doesn’t need to catch up to him, because he’s already on the same level, his sharp mind and calculating disposition enough to make up for the breach in physical strength. He doesn’t say this, because wit can only take you so far, if your opponent is stronger than you, and every bit of knowledge Timothy amasses in his quest of showing Damian up could potentially save his life one day.

He likes that their exchanges are still the same; even in the darkest times, he can trust the newly turned 13 year old to be a passive aggressive little brat.

‘Oh, Timothy, it seems you’re still focusing more on your studies than… more practical areas’ ‘Somewhere out there, there’s a tree tirelessly producing oxygen so you can breath. I think you owe it an apology’

‘You seem ill, Timothy. Or is that shade of white natural to you?’ ‘Oh, I was feeling a little unwell, hence why I came to see you. They say laughter is medicine, and your face is already curing me’

‘It smells like something is burning. Damian, are you trying to think again?’ ‘....as always, you’re such a pleasure to meet with’ ‘I know, you’re welcome’

It lacked the bite it used to have, tough. Timothy was as ready to talk back at him in his bitchiest voice, as he was to ruthlessly humiliate anyone trying to fuck with Damian.

When he left the city, seeking to better himself for his mission, he and Alfred were the only ones he was sad to leave behind.

He traveled for years, safe in the knowledge that Mrs Drake was looking out for his company and her son, and that Alfred would be taking care of the Mannor and preparing everything for his return in a few years.

HE exchanged letters with Timothy. Calls could be intervened, and as long as him and Timothy spoke in code and never revelaed anything too personal, there was no problem with keeping physicals reminders of their ever growing bond.

He met Talia when he was fifteen, who in turn introduced him to her father. They both seemed to take a liking to both his abilities and goal, and took him in for training. She seemed to think of herself as a mother figure, as she kept pating his head and calling him ‘my own’, and Ra’s’ eyes would shine with greed during the times he took Damian’s training into his own hands. 

He left before turning eighteen, when talks of successors and adoptions became too unbearable. His only parents were dead, and he had no intention to replace them for such dark, shady figures. Besides, no matter how close their objectives seemed at first, the more he knew them the least they sounded like philanthropists. Terrorist, was a more fitting label.

He turned 21 on his first night back in Gotham. Alfred, who never  failed to bake a cake for him despite his absence the last seven years, shared it with him with teary eyes.

The morning after that, Timothy came to see him.

It took Damian’s breath away. 

He was still shorter, and at this point it was a sure thing he’d always be, but small height didn’t mean his charms were as well. His skin remained as white as he remembered, eyes icy blue, both in color and the feeling they gave off, hair even darker than Damian’s framing a delicate face.

His hands were rougher than he remembered, though. More calloused, packed with extra strength. Damian could tell, because the first thing this enchanting man did upon them meeting was to slap him. Hard.

‘I know everyone is entitled to act stupid once in a while, but you are really abusing the privilege, Damian. Seven years? Seven? And spent, what, three of them in company of the Al Ghuls? Are you always this dumb, or you just like showing off when I’m around? This doesn’t impress me, you know. I’ve always known you were an idiot, it’s not news anymore’

‘How…?’

‘You might think yourself above all others, smart wise, but please remember I’m someone you never won a battle of wits against. I know everything about your little world trotting, because I have spies, and about your time with the League, because I’ve known Ra’s for way longer than you. Also, your stupid little hero idea…’

‘Spies again?’

‘Alfred. Somehow, he thinks I can make you change your mind. I might be hailed as a saint by gothamites, but I certainly can’t work miracles’

Tim left eight hours later, after discussing both Damian’s travels and plans for the future. He had way more information than Damian had guessed, and had been silently but steadily growing his network of contacts and spies, and had his dainty little fingers in more pies than a baker. He growled at him, called him stupid, told him he was going to get himself killed if he pushed forward with the whole ‘Batman’ idea, but… When he left, it was as a ally. He’d support Damian, do his best to keep him well informed, and deal with over the table crimes, while Damian took care of the ones under it.

He fell in love, a little bit. Or, more accurately, fell more in love. The seeds have been planted years before, when a seven year old sassesd him and left him eating his words. Now, through… the dark knowledge he had amassed, the sharpness in his eyes, the deceptively frail appearance… 

Something twisted in his gut, in a nice way. He went to bed that night, and started to think in other aliases that would go nicely with Batman.

Wouldn't Timothy look dashing, in leather and kevlar?

[pokeblader3]

Reimagining ATLA's Water Tribes and Air Nomads:

I love Avatar so much you guys, it's a masterpiece in writing and worldbuilding, but over the years I've sat and thought over it, I've thought up some ideas. In the show, the Air Nomads and Water Tribes aren't as fleshed out as the Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom, so as a worldbuilding exercise, I fleshed them out some more, with some slight rewriting.

The Water Tribes:

There are 2 types of Water Tribes - polar hunter-gatherer icebending tribes who developed waterbending as a result of being surrounded by ice and water(and use it to mass-hunt sea life and build ice houses, like the Arctic cultures they're based on), - and tropical seafarers who navigate a large ocean filled with islands, based on Austronesians and other Pacific peoples, who used ocean currents and star maps to navigate the vast oceans, and diverged into a number of different Pacific nations with the Austronesian expansion(being surrounded by a vast ocean, they'd develop waterbending separately than the poles).

The Pacific Water Tribe would have a large number of smaller "tribes" like how the polar tribes are divided into North and South, with some being inspired by Aboriginal Australians and Mississippians(hence boomerangs and other Oceanian influences in the polar Water Tribe, and also the swamp tribe), and as the Fire Nation is a tropical island nation that colonized nearby coastal territories, a number of these Water Tribes will be colonized by the Fire Nation, similar to the Earth kingdom, some of the earliest colonies in the Fire Nation's expansion.

Given both of their cultures have the shared art of waterbending(and more recently, both being colonized by the Fire Nation), the polar and tropical tribes have a kinship with each other, and welcome other Water Tribe people and assist them in their voyages(better explaining how polar tribes can cross the entire earth from pole to pole, going through vastly different climates, in ships made from just bone and animal hide). Given Water is the element of change and adaptability (a large number of tribes united by a common bending style developed in different occasions to suit their environment) and heart and community (resisting the Fire Nation and cultural camaraderie and hospitality to other Tribespeople even if they aren't a part of your tribe, along with the theme of indigenous unity forming in the wake of colonization, which could be tied to the element of Water), these would fit pretty in line with what Water represents in Avatar.

Sokka and Katara would meet other Water Tribes and the people that make them up in Book 1 as they travel from pole to pole, and learn about things like seafaring by sensing the ocean and looking to the moon's astral companions, along with have small bits of community and hospitality when they enter Water Tribe territories along their way. There would be a recurring character a la Jet or Suki from one of these new tribes.

Lastly, in real life, day and night cycles behave very differently in polar regions: at the poles of the earth, an entire year is 6 months of darkness and night, followed by the sun rising and not setting for another 6 months. This is called the midnight sun effect(and is something Sokka actually references in the first episode of the series, despite the sun and moon rising and setting in normal 24 hour cycles in the show). Given how Waterbending and Firebending are given strength by the sun and moon, this would be a great detail to add to Book 1, perhaps with the eventual sunrise/set in the Northern Water Tribe being a timeframe they need to reach the tribe before it occurs, as it would be such an important event.

Also, as mentioned in a previous post I made, I like the idea of the spirit portals on each pole being connected, and how the Polar Water Tribes became 'sister tribes' before they could circumnavigate the globe, along with how the Ocean and Moon spirit moved between the North and South Water Tribes on a cycle, before the Fire Nation severed the portal with the spiritual wound they inflicted on the world with their genocide of the Air Nomads and Southern Water Tribe, a visualization of the spiritual damage they are doing on the world, and one that would eventually heal decades later in Korra's era after reparations are made.

The Air Nomads:

The Air Nomads were not wiped out entirely in Sozin's genocide - Aang is not the last person of his culture. In real life, genocides do not destroy a culture or people entirely - they are still alive, often with their culture critically endangered and their presence erased and suppressed so that many people do not think they even exist anymore, see how Americans treat the original inhabitants of our continents that White Europeans tried to wipe out(and never fully succeeded in). I didn't mind the Air Nomads being revived and Sky Bisons miraculously surviving in Korra for this reason, a more realistic tragedy for Aang(aside from having ran away and not been able to interfere when the genocide of his people started and losing all his friends and family over the 100 year time skip) would be dealing with the actual effects of genocide and being a member of a culture that the Fire Nation drove to endangerment and is deeply wounded and scarred from a systemic genocide against them.

Aang would meet other Air Nomads, and we'd get a character who was an Air Nomad too, possibly showing the cultural differences between the 4 temples(which don't have that weird worldbuilding about gender segregation, also, not every Air Nomad would be an Airbender like the creators have stated). This would also help explain why the Sandbenders knew what specialized equipment to use to capture Appa when airbenders and sky bisons haven't existed for 100 years, and how Long Feng and other Earth Kingdom people knew about Sky Bisons, with an Earth Kingdom commoner saying Appa was probably being sold for bison steaks(a market that apparently still existed 100 years after Bisons were driven extinct).

I'd want to see how Air Nomads who couldn't airbend would be accommodated in their culture - every kin group can still have a flying bison and make their nomadic travels, but how are non-benders accommodated? This could connect to the inventor's son in the Northern Air Temple, who showed how disabled people could have accomodations made for them in gliders. Maybe the Western Air Temple could be a little more OSHA compliant, so you wouldn't fall to your death if you trip near a ledge, too.

I feel like we didn't get to see enough of the Air Nomads in ATLA, after Gyatso and Aang, is the only other named Air Nomad Yangchen, who appears like twice throughout the original show? I'd love to see Air Nomads migrating and raising herds of bison(they are nomadic pastoralists, after all). Tibetan culture has a unique element where many young boys are expected to live at a monastery for a few years to learn discipline and mature, which would be interesting to represent in the Air Nomads' spirituality and temples that are already present in the show. Would there be any Air Nomad settlements or homesteads outside the Air Temples? Would there be many nomadic herds of bison herders in the mountains and islands the temples are situated in?

Lastly, Air Nomads surviving the genocide would heighten ATLA's important message about reparations and healing from genocide and violence: after the Fire Nation is de-programmed and reparations are made to restore and help the Air Nomads and Water Tribes heal, the sky bisons will return to roaming the world, and the Air Nomads would be able to rebuild their culture and the Water Tribes would be able to rebuild their tribes and regain autonomy of their territory when the Fire Nation returns their land to them, with the spiritual scars left on the world after the Fire Nation's war eventually healing, with the portals in the Water Tribe being restored again and the Ocean and Moon spirits being able to return to the Southern Water Tribe's spirit oasis again after years of being severed from them.

[knittingdreams]

Fireheart - Chapter 3

I think I might be uploading this daily until I catch up with the chapters I have up on Ao3, so I hope this updates don’t annoy anybody! xD

If you haven’t read the previous chapters, here they are!

Chapter 1 - Returning to the living

Chapter 2 - Infiltrating the 24th floor

CHAPTER 3

A hell of an entrance

Sam Cortland was early to school on the second day of classes, as he wanted to get a feel of what people were thinking, what the mood was and what people’s patterns were. He knew Celaena had been around the premises multiple times before the term had started, but he hadn’t expected to be joining her until only a few days ago. Arobynn had approached him a week before and threatened him in a way that made him comply with being his spy. He hated it, but he didn’t really have any other viable options.

He was sitting on a bench by the entrance waiting for the bell to ring and watching people come and go. A few of the girls had approached him and said hello, some had even asked which classes he was attending and tried to flirt a bit. Reality was that he wasn’t interested in any of them, and he didn’t have time for romance anyway, he was technically at work. He had been polite and nice to each of them regardless, because he had an image he wanted to portrait. He wanted to be the good guy that everybody could count on, the one they’d trust with their secrets.

The loud rumble of an engine and the sound of squealing tires took him out of his daydream, and he looked up, his brows shooting up in surprise.

“So much for being one more in the crowd,” Sam muttered under his breath.

Right in front of the entrance’s stairs he saw a black motorcycle that had just parked up. The bike’s sinuous and seductive lines were perfectly in harmony with the curves of the girl that was getting off it. It was a sight he was used to, at least under different circumstances. The whole crowd had turned their heads around, and everybody was already whispering, watching the girl jumping off the bike. 

Sam had to give her credit, Celaena did look fantastic as she jumped down, lifting her flexible and long leg high up and giving the whole school a pretty decent view of her inner thighs. She stood next to the bike for a second, probably making sure that there were enough eyes on her before she took the black helmet off, shaking her blond hair around and then brushing it back with a hand. 

“Wow, who’s that?” A girl whispered next to him. 

“What a slut,” another one murmured under her breath, Sam barely heard her as she walked past him.

“You gotta be shitting me,” he heard Dorian Havilliard say as he elbowed the guy next to him, which Sam was pretty sure was the president of the student’s council.

“What is it?” The brunette guy asked.

“That girl, she’s staying at my family's hotel,” he replied.

“Celaena, the new exchange student?” The president asked, furrowing his brows.

“Yes, I ran into her in the lobby yesterday, I can’t believe I didn’t notice her at school!” Dorian said, and then the pair started slowly walking towards Celaena, as if wanting to watch her from closer.

Sam hid his smile behind a hand, pretending that he was coughing. He wasn’t surprised at all that Celaena had managed to run into him on her first night at the hotel; she was amazing at what she did. Cunning came to her almost as second nature.

Almost, because it hadn’t always been like that and Sam could still remember the broken girl that had shown up lying limp on Arobynn’s arms all those years ago.

“Who’s that?” Sam had asked, standing on his tiptoes to look at the girl’s face.

Her coat had been dripping water over in the foyer as Arobynn walked towards the staircase.

“Her?” He had asked disparagingly, “She’s my lottery ticket,” he had said as he quickly walked up the stairs.

Sam could still remember the hushed whispers around the mansion on those first days, the planning and plotting. Arobynn had wanted to get a ransom for the girl, but had finally concluded that it was most likely that she was wanted dead, so it would be a safer bet to use the girl until things were certain; until he came up with a better plan.

Weeks had led into months, and months into years, and the girl had stayed. Arobynn had trained her, and she had slowly come out of her shell, proving to be strong, ferocious and sassy. Damn, she could be so sassy, Sam thought. Him and Celaena had clashed so much during the years, and had gone from being strangers, to almost friends, to enemies, and all the way to lovers for the one quick peck that had been both of their first kiss. 

Sam chuckled at the memory, Celaena had been so annoying that day. They were probably around 12 years old, and Sam had wanted for her to shut up so badly, that he had kissed her once, pressing his lips hard against hers. 

He had ended up with a black eye for it.

“What happened with being inconspicuous?” he asked his female counterpart as she walked past him. He joined her pace, quickly walking by her side.

“That was never my plan,” she hissed under her breath. “Now piss off, I don’t want anybody to see us talking,” she said as she sped up and walked through the front doors, letting them slam closed behind her back.

“Noted,” he murmured, slowing down and taking a peaceful pace while nodding happily at all the girls that grinned at him. 

He made his way to his locker and grabbed a few books, slowly stacking them in his arms as he tried to catch anything from the few conversations around him. It looked like the whole school was talking about Celaena’s entrance. The girls were a bit upset about the new competition, and every single guy sounded like he wanted to get under her skirt.

He shook his head, and made his way to homeroom. 

The day went by without any more major events. He went from class to class, only running into Celaena in one of them. The talk about her dramatic entrance had subdued by then, but he could still hear whispers about it here and there, most of the guys were focusing on her ride now, instead of dribbling over the image of her. 

There was one reaction that he was eager to hear about, and it was the one from the only student he thought he hadn't run into that day. He had tried to join as many advanced classes as he could, but he wasn’t as literate and smart as Celaena was, hence why he had had to join the school as a junior and only had a few advanced lessons. 

He found the guy he was looking for during the lunch hour, and he made sure to sit at a table close enough to eavesdrop. Aedion was sitting with all the jocks, as it was to expect. It must have been practice day, because instead of wearing his classic uniform, he was wearing a black polo, the number 15 written on big yellow letters on his back. He hadn’t even taken off his captain band, which gripped his bicep tightly as his arm flexed when he rested his head on a fist.

Aedion was talking with a few other players, a huge grin on his face showing all his perfectly white teeth. Sam watched as his eyes shot up when someone called his name, and a tall curvy girl with dark brown hair cascading up to her waist walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around the captain’s neck, gave him a quick peck on the lips and then sat on his lap. Sam wasn’t surprised to see that she was wearing the cheerleader’s outfit. There was an elegant look in the way her bare pale legs were crossed at the ankles in a careful manner.

He was close enough to hear most of their conversation, so he leaned closer not to miss any words.

“Hi honey, how was cheerleading practice?” Aedion asked as he played with a strand of the girl’s hair.

“Not bad, the squad was a bit distracted though,” she said, sounding mildly annoyed.

“Why was that?” Aedion asked, his bright turquoise eyes looking up at her, seeming genuinely confused.

“That new girl, she has them all a bit crazy. Apparently she made a big entrance this morning, but I missed it because I was talking with the coach, did you catch her?” the girl asked, sounding curious to see her boyfriend’s reaction.

“Oh, I was a bit far, but I did see her. Her ride is actually a piece of art,” he said.

Sam had to cover his mouth to hide his chuckle for the second time that day. The guy was good, he knew how to deflect the conversation not to make his girlfriend jealous. Sam was genuinely impressed.

“Lysandra!” A blond girl called as she rushed over to Aedion’s girlfriend.

“What’s the matter?” She asked, turning around and letting Sam get a full view of her big and beautiful emerald green eyes. 

“Sorry hun, coach needs a word with you, would you mind going back to the gymnasium?” The two girls left in a hurry and Sam’s eyes trailing after them.

“She’s so taken, mate,” a skinny guy sitting next to Sam said as he elbowed him playfully. “I recommend you to be careful, Aedion won’t like it if he catches you staring,” he said in a low voice, as if to make sure that the next table over wouldn’t hear them.

Sam thanked him for the advice, and kept on eating his lunch. He spotted Celaena on the opposite side of the cafeteria then, and followed her gaze to see what she was looking at so intently. Her eyes were fixed on a table not far away from him, and Sam noticed Dorian Havillard sitting there with the same brunette guy from before. So far, those two seemed to go together everywhere. They were talking and elbowing each other, their eyes on the blond girl that was eyeing them shamelessly.

It looked to him like Celaena wasn’t wasting any time; she was hunting, and only for a second, he felt sorry for her prey. 

----

Hope you enjoyed this! You know you can always read more on Ao3, read some of my originals on Wattpad, or even find me on Instagram for some bookstagram galore and random texts/poems/updates on my writing! :D

Here’s my take on stunning, gorgeous, love of my life... Aedion Ashryver xD 

[shnuggletea]

InuKagWeek 2020

Alright, to those of you still here, thank you! To those of you who left... eh, it's your choice. Anyway, here is chapter two day two of InuKagweek 2020! Loyalty. @inukag-week thanks for the poster art and here’s my day two! Still working on my own art for this piece. Something I was working on a while ago and quit. Hence why Kagome looks way better if you ask me. Thank you @petri808​ for showing me a few tricks for my posts on tumblr!

Chapter 2 of 8 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

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Loyalty

If I'm being honest, I never had a job in food service. But I had to assume they were all the same mostly. Things like learning the names of the drinks and the regular customers as well as how to handle a tray filled with heavy things were to be expected. However, given my place of 'work', getting grabbed, touched, and pinched wasn't. Two weeks later and I was as used to it as you could be. When you go from living in a girls home, sharing a room, and counseling sweet innocent children to your own space in a mansion and bringing drinks backstage to the dancers, it would never feel normal.

The girls were nice enough though and I never saw Inuyasha which I was fine with. Mostly.

I'd even made friends with most of those that worked there. Some were just there to strip and make money so a little inexperienced waitress wasn't worth their time. Which was fine. But my favorite was a girl named Sango.

Her eyes brightened at the sight of me, a smile on her pretty face as she paused in putting on her fake lashes. I handed off the other drinks, giving Sango her whiskey sour last. "Oh, I do love the nights you're working Kagome."

"Which is every night?"

Sango giggled, taking a sip and moaning her appreciation of the flavor. "Yes. But you are so quick with our orders. The others take forever."

"I just don't want you guys going without some liquid courage. I couldn't do what you guys do."

Sango tisked her tongue at me as I leaned against her vanity table. "It's not that bad. I mean, the audition was a little awkward."

"Audition?"

Sango went back to her makeup, lining her lips with a dark red lipstick. "Yeah. Having to get naked in from of the boss? That was nerve-wracking, wasn't it? Naomi told me she had to do the same thing even as a server. You had to too right?"

I shuttered. So everyone had to do that? Inuyasha had slept with every single girl in this place as an audition? Was that what that was? I lost my virginity to a man like that?

I swallowed my disgust and the rising vomit in my throat, suddenly feeling a desperate need to get checked for STDs because he definitely didn't wear a condom with me, and pushed off the table. "I should get back to it."

"Yep yep. Don't want the boss to catch you slacking!"

As if he could, he was never here. Too busy 'auditioning' more girls. The only one here every day, giving me a hard time, was Koga. He was always somewhere around the club, waiting to bark at me for doing something wrong or touch me. It was never in an inappropriate place but it was still unwanted. A hand on my shoulder or a push to my back. Once, he patted my butt and I nearly tore his arm off. He hasn't done it since but I see him do it to the others all the time.

Returning to one of my tables, I leaned in to be heard over the loud music. The girl on stage now was talented for sure so I was always surprised when anyone gave me their attention over those on stage. Probably thanks to the required low cut top I had to wear. It wasn't even a top really, it was a vest and I barely fit in it. There definitely wasn't room for a bra. And the pants sat low on my hips so my skin showed all the time. Every time I leaned over, I waited for a breast to fall out. Not that anyone would mind, save for me.

Plastering a smile on my face, I listened as the guy I was attending rattled off a drink order as slowly as he could to keep me there longer. It was a struggle to keep my fake smile up. He finally finished, certain he was touching himself under the table the whole time, I fled to the bar. Far from safe, it still had fewer men ogling me at it.

I rested, waiting for my order and Naomi stood next to me. "Hey, Kagome? I'm not really sure I should say something but...there's a guy here who keeps sitting in my section and watching you."

I suppose stalkers were a normal thing here. It didn't mean I was okay with it. "He's watching me? With that going on?"

I thumbed towards the stage as Sango did a super sexy split on the pole. Not sure what I'd do with myself if I was ever that sexy but it was nice to dream. "Well...I've only been here a few days but yeah. I wasn't going to tell you until I was sure. I mean he's far less creepy than the other guy that watches you…"

"There are two guys watching me?!"

She grabbed my shoulders to reassure me. "I'm not really sure! I haven't even been here a week yet. But it seems like this guy is definitely here to watch you. He sits in the corner booth in the back so he can see you but you never seem to see him…" I gently pulled from her hold and made the quick decision to face the creep. "Wait, Kagome!"

I waved back to her, heading off towards the mentioned table. "Don't worry, I won't get you in trouble."

I didn't have to go all the way to the table, figuring out pretty quickly who it was. Shaking my head and growling a laugh in irritation, I walked right up to Inuyasha who looked a little taken aback that I seemed to notice him. Crossing my arms over my chest served two purposes; hiding my overexposed breasts and showing him how pissed I was at him in general. How the hell did Naomi not know who this was? She auditioned for him last week!

Setting his drink down carefully, he cleared his throat over the loud music and adjusted his seat. "I just wanted to check on you, that's all. See how my investment was holding up."

That wasn't good enough for me and I told him as much by not changing or saying a thing.

"This is my club, damnit, I can come in and do whatever the fuck I want."

"Yes you can, Boss," Koga said, coming up from behind out of nowhere. "Everything up to your standards?"

There was something about Koga. He said one thing but clearly felt another. Inuyasha had to be ignoring it, no way he missed the indignation in Koga's demeanor. "Everything is fine, Koga. Except for your customers getting too handsy with the wait staff!"

To my added irrigation, Koga put his hands on my shoulders as if to hold me steady. Never did I ever need another to keep me steady or still and now wasn't the exception. I glared over my shoulder at him but he ignored me. But then his hands popped off me as if burned and I turned back to Inuyasha who looked ready to kill someone. And that someone was Koga so he stepped further away from me.

"I'll..uh...I'll see what I can do about that, Sir."

Just the two of us again, I turned to leave but Inuyasha called out to me again. "Looks like you're blending in here. A real chameleon or just within your element here?"

Turning on my heel, I stormed back up to his table. Leaning over I put my finger as close to his face as I could. "I survive. It's what I've always done and those girls back at the home wouldn't if they were tossed out on the street. So remember that when you think I'm okay with any of this. With you, this place, getting my ass grabbed daily, or even going through your audition. I'm a survivor and I will survive this."

He had backed up a little in his seat but I'd rid the distance in an instant. Big golden eyes danced between my finger, eyes, and lips. "I can see that." I slowly removed myself from his bubble and he crossed his arms over his chest like he was the one wronged. "I said I was sorry the other night. I lost control and took things too far…"

"Do you say that to all the others too? Is this your blanket apology for using women the way that you do?"

He had been looking toward the exit but snapped back to me with my words. "What are you talking about?"

I huffed, pissed to the point of tears. "Fine. Play dumb. Stop coming here and watching me. I'm not going to screw up your stupid club."

He tried to say something but I really wasn't interested. It wasn't like we didn't live together, not that I ever saw him at home either. If he really wanted to talk to me, he could do it there.

I caught Koga grinning at me as I stormed away, feeling Inuyasha's glare on my back. All I could think was that I really had fallen into a den of demons somehow.

oOo

Checking every day, every hour, I didn't see Inuyasha return. A week had passed and he hadn't come back to the club. Meaning things went back to the way they were, not seeing or hearing from him at all. This time I was glad.

That is until I got to work on another Friday night.

The place was packed and Koga was far too pleased about it. "Kagome you're going on stage tonight."

"Wait, what?!"

"We're short-staffed and I've gotten requests. So you're dancing tonight. Be ready to go on after Kiki."

I was numb, staring at my reflection at the vanity that Sango let me use. She was doing something with my hair but I felt none of it. The only man I'd ever been naked in front of was Inuyasha and I was fine with that. It was a livable condition to my servitude. But now I was going to be naked in front of a ton more. As I said, the place was packed tonight so easily 50-60 people were going to see my bush.

"It's not that big a deal, Kagome, I promise."

"That's easy for you to say! You can dance! And you're super sexy."

Sango sat down beside her and frowned. "You're sexy!" When I frowned in return, she kept on. "You are! Plus, dancing isn't so bad. You're alone and no one is touching you. It's easy to pretend you're just dancing in front of your mirror. Stay out of the champagne rooms though. They touch a lot in there."

I'd heard about those rooms and had stayed clear the entire time I'd worked here. But I was a server. As a dancer, if someone paid to take me in there, didn't I have to go?

The question was bouncing around in my brain when the door to the dressing room slammed open. Inuyasha took a quick look around and when his eyes landed on me, they went from bronze to molten metal. The others squealed and ran while I was frozen in my seat, Sango stuck by me even as he stormed up and ripped me up from my seat. The only thing he said or did before dragging me out was grab a robe and throw it at me.

"Cover yourself."

In the bra and panty set I had worn there that night, cause no way in hell was I borrowing from anyone else, it was nearly my turn to go on but Inuyasha was taking us towards the exit. Koga stood near it, shaking with anger and...fear?

"I told you. I fucking warned you. She's not to go on the fucking stage. Ever. She can't even dance!"

"Look, I got requests, what was I supposed to do…"

"Tell them to fuck off, that's what! Jesus, what the hell do I pay you for?! When some asshole with a few bucks tells you what to do and you listen to them instead of me?"

Koga's head hung low but I didn't feel any pity in the slightest. "Sorry, Boss."

Inuyasha still had my hand in a death grip but he put his free one on Koga's shoulder. It was the kindest act I'd ever seen him do. "If anyone bothers you, you call me. Got it?"

I didn't get to see how Koga reacted, Inuyasha pulling us out into the night. He stopped, only to wrap his coat around me before shoving me into his car. The ride was silent until I could take it no longer. Anger was surging in me. Sure, he saved me but who asked him anyway?!

"I don't get you at all. You put me in a strip club to work but then get pissed because people want me to take off my clothes?"

"You're a server."

"IN A STRIP CLUB! What did you think was going to happen?!"

"I thought you'd do your fucking job!"

A dark laugh escaped my lips and Inuyasha turned to glare at me. "My fucking job? Interesting words coming from you. Considering you bought me to fuck you."

"I told you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to …"

I wanted him to stop apologizing because it made the loss of my virginity a regret to him. I didn't regret it, I had enjoyed it until he opened his fat mouth! "It doesn't change a thing! Your apology doesn't change that night and it doesn't make my hymen magically grow back! And it doesn't change your complete lack of care for my feelings on the subject either!"

"Lack of care?!"

"I know I should be thankful...that things could be a lot worse…" I really tried not to, because I didn't want to give him my tears, but I couldn't stop them either. "But it's hard to feel anything but resentment when I went from being surrounded by angels all day to working for the devil."

I cut my sobs off after five escaped and Inuyasha listened to each one. It made me wonder if he got off on them until he spoke again. "The devil huh? That's how you see me?"

Nothing more was said even as we split off to our rooms. The devil going silently into his and I could honestly say for the first time that I hated someone. Cause I hated Inuyasha.

oOo

I half expected Inuyasha to show up at the club again the next day. But with him nowhere in sight two hours in, I considered him a no show and went about business as usual.

Sango was happy to see me, jumping up as soon as I entered the dressing room while everyone else seemed surprised to see me as well. "Oh man, last night was intense. You're okay, right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Inuyasha is just...weird…"

"Weird? I thought it was hot as hell. I wish I had a boyfriend that protective. I was wondering why you were just a server all this time but now I get it…"

"Wait," I stopped her ramble with a gentle hand in her face, "that guy is not my boyfriend."

"Huh? Then who the hell is he? The way he dragged you out of here I thought for sure he made you quit…."

"What the hell do you mean, who is he? He's the boss!"

Sango's face and those eavesdropping around us twisted in confusion. "No, Koga's the boss."

I looked around, finding faces that agreed. "Wait...so when you said you auditioned for the boss…"

"Yeah, Koga. He made us all strip for him in his tiny little office. I was scared he'd do more but that was it."

I felt faint, my head getting light and my breaths feeling shallow. "But I thought… Inuyasha…."

"Kagome? Are you alright?"

Sango was holding me up off the floor and I gripped her shoulders tight. "Yeah, I just… need some air…"

If she didn't have her first set in five minutes, I was sure Sango would have gone with me. As it was, I wasn't sure I wanted the company anyway, following her finger to the back door of the dressing room.

It was freezing out, middle of January, and snow falling lightly from the black sky above. The cold helped my brain though, forcing the sticky feeling inside it to freeze so it would function.

So when Inuyasha said he was sorry...what had he said? He didn't mean to, that he lost control. Did he never intend to sleep with me? He was Koga's boss but not the boss of the other women? How did that make sense? It was if he had some kind of loyalty and he was actually showing it to me but I didn't understand or know how to take it.

Damn, now I hated him a little less.

"Hey."

So lost in thought, I missed the guy standing nearby, smoking. He took a step closer and I took a step back. It pushed me into the dark and him into the light. The bright red bulb at the end of his cigarette as he took a long drag and then tossed it. His features were sharp and dangerous looking, even with his long, wavy locks that softened his appearance. It was his eyes really, they were dull and lifeless and set on her.

"You're...Kagome right?" I really didn't like that he knew my name. "I'm a bit of a fan of yours. I'm Naraku."

He stuck out a hand but I refused to remove mine from their wrapped position around my chest. Naraku chuckled as he dropped the offer, digging in his pocket for something so I took another step back. A new cigarette and lighter in his hands, I still didn't relax, trying to slide towards the door. If he noticed, he said and did nothing as I grabbed a hold of the handle and pulled with all my might. But the door didn't budge.

"It's locked from the outside. Usually, the girls leave something to block the door but I guess they didn't tell you about that, did they?" he was grinning while my skin was trying to find a new home far from him. "Why don't you dance? You have a killer body and are so damn sexy. Does Inuyasha have a reason for not letting you? I must admit, it has me curious about your relationship to him."

"We don't have a relationship past employee and employer."

He shook his head, clucking his tongue at me. "Koga is your boss. Or...isn't he?" I fidgeted, looking for a way out. "Oh...I see… you belong to Inuyasha, don't you? Just what is your title then?"

My only choice was to walk around the building to the front, which I was about to do when the door popped open and Sango's head appeared. "Kagome? There you are! Sorry, I forgot to warn you about the lock…"

I was breezing past her, not worrying about the slip-up and Sango was glaring at Naraku. "If you ever want a change of pace, Kagome, let me know."

The door slammed heavily behind us and I couldn't be happier. Sango was still looking behind us as if Naraku had a key he forgot to mention. "You should stay away from that guy, Kagome. I'm not sure why he's even allowed near the building."

"Why do you say that?"

She looked back at me, her face pale. "Well...he snaked away a few of the girls that worked here a few years ago to work at his house or something. He promised them more pay and no stripping. But the last I heard he was sleeping with all of them and only some of them were willing."

I didn't bother hiding my disgust, nearly vomiting on the dark tile below us. Sango looked sick too. We were making our way back towards the front, Sango required to 'meet and greet' after her show and get tips. I was supposed to get tips too but I think they all went to Inuyasha or something. They could all go to the home for all I cared, I was loyal to the cause.

Naomi ran up to us as soon as we made it out of the hall and into the main floor. "Kagome, someone is here for you."

If it was Naraku again, I was just going to slug him and call over Koga. But it wasn't him. It was Mother Kaede.

And Naraku shows up, so you know there's going to be issues. Drama. Angsty drama. Weeeeeee...

[animeniacss]

A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 19 - Date Number 2

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU

Length: approx. 5.2k words

Chapter 19 - Date Number 2 

It had been a few weeks since your…enlightening lunch with your younger sister. After her little conversation with those two men at the entrance, she returned to the table, attempting to continue your conversation as if nothing had changed. However, you couldn’t stop thinking about her comment. As playful or fabricated as she intended for it to be, she agreed with your doubts regarding your romantic standing with three men who you still were unsure if you wanted to have any romantic standing at all. It wasn’t something that could just be pushed away when the pizza was brought out to the table and Bong-Cha began talking about her own love life.

         Despite that, however, you managed to keep up appearances at work as to not worry any of your coworkers. Yoongi’s team had placed second in the high school basketball tournament, and Yoongi had just returned to the preschool to continued his physical education teachings with the kids, much to their delight. There was one day, a Wednesday, where you and Hoseok dropped off the kids on the field with Yoongi, who eagerly herded the kids towards him in fits of excitement. Hoseok headed to the classroom once again to sneak a snack and rest, tired after a long morning of teaching small groups of children the names of shapes and colors. It’s a taxing job. Meanwhile, you were walking down the hall when you saw the door to Taehyung’s room open. Stopping in the doorway, you watched the man run his hands through his fluffy hair and pace the room. He was looking all over the room as if each location held a new secret to whatever answer he was so desperately looking for. He didn’t notice you at first, so you crossed your arms and rested on the door frame, silently continuing to watch him.

         “…You look like you’re losing your mind.” You finally said, and dark eyes turned to look in your direction. It made you chuckle. “If that’s what it is, you’re a bit late to the party. In a preschool, one is supposed to lose their mind within the first week of employment, or else they’re considered crazy.” Once Taehyung offered a small chuckle, you stepped into the room. “What’s wrong?”

         “Everything.” He admitted. “President Kim said that his higher-ups want to come and evaluate me.” You blinked. “I thought I was only hired here as a recreational thing, not a real teacher. I don’t have my teaching degree.”

         “I know. But you work full-time here, and I’m sure Seokjin speaks your praise at all of his evaluation meetings. Don’t worry too much about it, they probably just want to come and finally meet you.” Taehyung’s shoulders slumped. “If you want to trade, you can easily do my educational evaluation.” You said simply. “I have to show all of my lessons for the past four months, along with all of the student’s progress and how I plan to help continue to keep their progress going. It’s lots of paperwork.”

         Taehyung shook his head. “No, thanks…” A smile formed on his lips. “But that makes me feel a little better.”      

         “Don’t stress, you’ll be okay.” You assured.

         “But it’s not just that,” Taehyung said. “I got invited to another art show this weekend and I wanted to try and have a few new works prepared for it, but I haven’t hit my usual quota.”

         “Is something on your mind causing all of the artist blocks?” you asked curiously. Taehyung looked over in your direction. He was silent for a moment as he studied your features, unsure of what to say. You offered him a soft smile, and his heart swelled a bit. It felt as if it did a flip, and Taehyung had to make sure he wasn’t having a stroke at that moment before responding.

         “…No, not particularly.” He said simply. After a brief moment of silence, he coughed into his hands. “How’s your sister?” He asked. You glanced at him, hands at your sides. “Has she been well?”

         “…Is she causing the block?” you cooed, grinning a bit. Taehyung’s eyes widened, and he shook his head.

         “No, no, no! Maybe that was a bad shift to different conversations but trust me, she is not the reason I’m having this block.” You forced a little laugh out, and a feeling of guilt sat right on Taehyung’s broad shoulders. He only felt that way because as the giggle subsided, the corner of your lips turned downward, and he hated that sight.

         “I see…” you said simply. “I was just kidding, anyway.” You smiled. “But Bong-Cha is just fine. She’s as obnoxious as ever. She even got upset with me the other day because she asked if I wanted to go shopping with her. But she told me an hour before she left. So, when I told her that I was busy working on my education reports, she tried to guilt me into not coming with her.” You scoffed. “She’s lucky she’s got a cute face because she’s a little devil.” Taehyung chuckled. “Anyway, on a different topic…” you began, and Taehyung walked towards his desk, before turning his attention back to you. For a moment, you knew what you wanted to ask. You knew that you wanted to initiate getting together after your educational evaluation had ended. However, you knew bringing that up would only cause you trouble, and the worst part of it was, you had no idea when that trouble would hit. After racking your brain for a moment, you shook your head. “Tell me more about this art festival.”

         Taehyung coughed into his hand. “Oh, well it’s actually by Haneul Park.” He said simply. “I found it online so I messaged the people doing it. It’s a bit small, they just started holding it a few years ago. But artists just kind of get together and paint, and people who pass by stop and look and sometimes will buy or even commission a painting right there.” You smiled.

         “That’s amazing. I hope it goes well.”

         “I’ll do my best.” Taehyung smiled. “If you want to come, Uhm-.”

         “I’ll see how much of my work I get done, okay?” you said happily. Once again, the appearance of that infectious smile made Taehyung’s only grow wider.

         “Right, of course.” He said happily. “I understand.” Your eyes wandered to the clock, and a small hum escaped your lips.

         “I should probably go try and get some of it done now, while I have the time.” You said simply. “I hope you get over your artist block and do well this weekend at the show.”

         “Right.” He said, opening up one of his drawers. “Thank you. See you later~.” Both of you waved one another off, before you disappeared out of the room, closing the door behind you. Taehyung took a moment, embracing the silence that enveloped him before plopping down in his seat. Quickly, he grabbed hold of a nearby pencil, sharpened to still untouched perfection, and grabbed a small piece of paper that he kept several of inside his drawer. When the two combined, Taehyung began sketching a big circle on the paper. As he smoothed out features, darkened lines while erasing others, he smiled to himself as a familiar smile breathed life onto the once blank paper. As he continued to scribble, he could feel his mind chipping away at the artist block that so stubbornly sat within his mind.

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         Namjoon was approaching the daycare at the end of the day, the bright school coming into view as he rolled up. The windows were down, and despite the wind whipping in and out of his car, he could hear children shouting in excitement as they ran around outside waiting anxiously to be picked up. As Namjoon got closer and closer to the school, immediately, something flashed in his mind.

         An image of you, bright red in the cheeks, staring up at him in shock as your fingers grazed your lips; lips he had just taken the liberty to kiss. Just the thought, as cute as it was, slammed his hands on the wheel, cursing himself. He still had yet to see you since then, having Jungkook drop off and pick-up Kai at daycare ever since. The last thing he ever wanted was to make you more uncomfortable, and seeing you could make it worse. However, Jungkook couldn’t make it in time to get Kai, leaving only Namjoon to do it. As he pulled up to the front of the daycare, another car pulled away. When he looked out the window, he saw Kai immediately. He was sitting on the swing with Kim Taehyung, both swinging side by side as Hoseok pushed the little boy, who was grinning ear to ear. After a moment of scanning, he saw only Kai was left, hence the undivided attention from all of the teachers. That included you. You were standing beside the swing, smiling softly as you watched the little boy flying on the swing.

         The sound of Namjoon’s car turning off alerted the attention of those on the swing set. Seeing your eyes flicker in Namjoon’s direction. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and he had to force down a gulp as he stepped out of the car. Before turning into their view, Namjoon made sure his glasses and suit jacket were fixed and that he looked presentable. Once he was ready, he turned around and waved to the group.

         “Daddy!” Kai cheered, kicking his legs. “Mr. Hobi, stop me, please!” Hoseok laughed a bit as he grabbed the swing, settling Kai before he hopped off and hurried to meet his dad at the door. “I thought Kookie was picking me up.”

         “Kookie has to do schoolwork today,” Namjoon said as he scooped his son up, kissing his cheek. “Why, would you rather he picked you up instead of your favorite dad?” Kai giggled, little arms wrapping around his father’s neck as he offered him a tight hug. He looked towards the three of you and smiled.

         You seemed to be the only one offering him a kind smile, but honestly one out of three smiles was more than what he thought he would receive. Hoseok paused for a moment, before following your lead and offering a gentle smile and a nod. Taehyung, however, offered no smile, instead of keeping his lips in a tight and thin line with no intention of saying anything. Namjoon nodded. “Thank you.”

         “Of course.” Kneeling, you grabbed Kai’s backpack and walked over to Namjoon, passing it to him with a nod. “Have a good night.”

         Namjoon was hesitant, glancing down at your hand that tightly held the colorful backpack. Nodding, Namjoon’s hand outstretched and took the bag. When he smiled, his dimples poked out. It made your smile just slightly wider. “Goodnight.” He said gently. “Say thank you, Kai.”

         “Byeeee, Teacher! Thank you!” Kai said, extending his hand to wave. You quickly waved back, grinning more as Namjoon carried his son to the car and buckled him up in the back. You watched him slide into the front seat, starting up his car. He did not drive away immediately, instead of turning back to watch as you, Hoseok, and Taehyung headed into the daycare once again. He let out a sigh, but the sigh must have been too loud, as he heard Kai shift in the backseat. “Daddy, are you okay?” he asked. Namjoon looked over his shoulder to his son, who stares at him with a look of confusion etched on his face. He had to rack his mind of something to say to his son that made sense, something that he would accept without a second thought. Kai was wild, but he was also smart. Namjoon liked to think that’s one thing he passed down to his son.

         “I’m okay,” Namjoon assured gently. “I just wanted to make sure I had all of our stuff…” Kai looked to his side, patting his backpack and offering a grin.

         “I packed all my stuff by myself today.” He said, and Namjoon chuckled a bit.   

         “Oh, good.” He hummed. “I’m proud of you. Let’s head home and rest before dinner.” Kai nodded in agreement as he looked out the window, watching as his dad put the car in drive and pulled away from the daycare center. As Namjoon drove away, he kept thinking back to his interaction with you just now, hoping that he did not do anything that would make you uncomfortable. That was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

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         “Taehyung.” Jimin hummed, glancing over at his friend. Despite the bustling air surrounding the duo as they sat together at their little art festival, Taehyung was in his world since he arrived. Many different people passed by the groups of people who were creating or trying to sell already created artworks, the clear sky and beating sun shining their paths. It was a welcoming and friendly atmosphere around the art fair, and everyone seemed to be infected to act that way as well. That is, except for Taehyung.

         Taehyung was sitting comfortably under a tree, his paintbrush hovering over the blank canvas before him. Jimin, who was watching him from his seat under the tree, let out a sigh as he got no response.

         “Tae…” Jimin said again, but once again fell on deaf ears. He sighed, lifting himself from his spot in the grass and walking over to him. “Earth to Taehyung.”

         The boy’s head spun around in a whirl. “Hm?” he asked, eyeing his friend.

         “How’s your painting coming?” he asked curiously. “You’ve been so busy with it, it’s almost as if you’re in another world.” Jimin sat beside his friend, curiously tilting his head as Taehyung turned back and ran a hand through his hair. Upon closer inspection, Jimin saw that little to no progress had been made on the painting, and all that he saw was scribbles of various colors in small spots. It made Jimin smile. “This a new abstract piece you’re working on?”

         “No…” Taehyung sighed. “I thought being outside would be good for me but it’s not doing much good.” A sigh escaped his lips and he set his canvas down onto the grass, his paintbrushes lying beside it. Quickly, Taehyung dug into his pocket and pulled out a folded-up piece of paper. Jimin watched as he unfolded it, and examined it for a moment.

         “Oh…is that-?” Taehyung nodded.

         “We spoke during work and afterward I wanted to draw her again…” Taehyung said softly. “I thought it kind of cleared some of my blocks. Normally it does, but this time I just…” he sighed. “I’m not sure, my head is foggy lately.” Jimin offered a gentle rub to his friend’s shoulder. “It sucks. I can’t remember the last time I was this block.”

         “I can,” Jimin said simply. “When you first came to my house. We were what, eighteen, and you had that huge fight with your parents over the summer break. You were trying to paint enough so that we could move you to Paris…” Taehyung chuckled a bit. “But you couldn’t get anything to come up for weeks.”

         “…Yeah, I remember now,” Taehyung said softly. “But it still sucks, and I hate it.” Jimin snorted a bit, grinning.

         “I know. But you’ll get your groove back. For now, why don’t you just enjoy the time out here with your best friend, loyal companion, and favorite manager?” Jimin asked. Taehyung pursed his lips.

         “Because none of those people could make it today.” Jimin gasped, shoving his friend as a playful grin formed on his face. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” He teased, but to no avail as Jimin continued to shove him, both of them laughing in amusement. Taehyung sighed, taking another look at his picture of you he had recently made. He scanned each detailed line, each glimpse of an eraser mark that remained ever so faintly, ones that only he could see because he knew exactly where they were. He had no idea how long this artist’s block would last, but he had one idea of what he could do to try and fix it.

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

         “The Leeum Museum of Art?” You hummed softly “Why?”

         “Yeah,” Taehyung said simply. “I wanted to go to a museum to get some much-needed inspiration.” You leaned back in your seat, resting against the comfy back of the couch as you nursed a half-empty glass of wine. “So, I thought I would ask if you wanted to join me?”

         A long silence followed Taehyung’s question, mostly because you didn’t know how to respond. Yes, you wanted to go and enjoy the time out with Taehyung. However, how would Taehyung take the offer? You had already suggested seeing him again but…well, that was then. You felt differently then, things felt differently then. Taehyung caught wind of the silence, and when he let out a long exhale, even over the phone it sent a shiver up your spine.

         “…You don’t have to consider it a date if you don’t want to,” Taehyung added quickly. “I just want to spend time with you, as friends. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

         “I know.” You said softly. As you took another sip of your drink, you sighed. “But it sounds fun. I’d love to join you.” Taehyung grinned on the other end.

         “Okay. I’ll plan the entire thing, okay? Is there anything that doesn’t work for you?”

         “No, I’m free as a bird the same times you are.” You grinned. “Just let me know.”

         “Okay.” He hummed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m excited to go. You’ll like the museum, it’s amazing.” You couldn’t help it, you had to grin, even more, the sound of Taehyung’s excitement making you feel excited right along with him. “I’ll call you tomorrow after I set it all up, okay?”

         “…Okay.” You said softly. “Have a good night, Taehyung.”

         “You too.” He said happily. “Goodnight.” The both of you hung up the phone and you looked at your wine glass. The contents were almost empty and you tossed the remainder of the drink down your throat. The glass settled on the coffee table, and your head lolled onto the back of the couch.

         “Guess I have another date.” You hummed softly to yourself. “Let’s see how this one goes.” As another grin formed on your face you hopped out of your seat and headed to your room. Arms stretched above your head, you let out a loud groan.

         As Taehyung set his phone down, he looked over to his work station, where tons of uncompleted sketches and small paintings waited patiently for the day Taehyung would finally finish them. As he walked over, he set himself into his seat and lifted some of the papers. A few were bent, crumpled up in fits of artistic anger only to be reopened hours later when Taehyung felt regret at throwing away something that could be so perfect. Taehyung sighed, staring as if somehow, the longer he stared the more likely inspiration would jump out at him. For now, nothing. Sure, he’s doodled, sure he’s put paint to canvas. However, nothing he’s created recently was anything he would ever attempt to sell anywhere, and his completed paintings were growing older with each passing day. As he rested his head back on his chair, he let out a deep sigh.

         Hopefully, a trip to the museum would help spark the dull part of his imagination that was normally oozing with inspiration. If not, then he can take solace in the fact that he got to spend time with you for the day. That was a win in his book too.

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

         “I can’t believe you got another date with her,” Baekhyun said over the phone. Taehyung offered a confident grin even though he knew his friend couldn’t see it. He was waiting on a bench by the entrance to the bus station for you, his most recently received text saying you were on your way and would be there soon. Despite the cloudy skies and rumors of rain later, Taehyung felt the sun shining throughout his body. “Sparks are flying, hm?”

         ‘Well, I don’t know if she considers it a date.” Taehyung admitted. “I’ve noticed she’s been a bit off these past few days so I don’t want to push her too much. But-.”

         “Buuuuut you want to go on a date with her so bad anyway, right?” Baekhyun teased. Taehyung chuckled a little along with his friend.

         “Of course, I do.” He said simply. “I just hope she isn’t uncomfortable.”

         “If she agreed I’m sure that she’s not uncomfortable,” Baekhyun assured. Taehyung nodded, his eyes scanning the crowds of people for any signs of your arrival.

         “I’m going to get going. She should be here soon.” Taehyung said. With a quick goodbye, Taehyung slid his phone into his back pocket and crossed his arms, continuing to scan the area. He had yet to catch a glimpse of you, wondering if five minutes had passed since your text. As he continued to look, he heard a voice gasp behind him, and it shocked him a bit. When he turned around, he saw two girls, most likely a year or so younger than Taehyung, standing up straight and tall with stunned expressions on their faces. “Uhm…”

         “I told you, Seohyun, it’s Taehyung from Instagram. That seriously attractive artist!” One girl whispered to her friend, though Taehyung heard it and couldn’t help but chuckle.

         “Oh my God, you’re right.” She squealed. “Wow, nice to meet you, Oppa.” Taehyung smiled a bit.

         “Nice to meet you too. Always makes me happy to meet fans, you know? Makes me feel like some sort of celebrity.” The girls giggled at each other.

         “You are talented, Oppa. I went to that art show you said you were going to last week in the park. I saw you, but you were so busy that I didn’t want to bother you.”  Taehyung smiled a bit.

         “Busy being artist blocked, maybe.” He hummed playfully. “But hopefully that’ll be gone soon.”

         “Hopefully,” Seohyun said. “Fighting, Taehyung-Oppa~!” both of the girls giggled like school girls, and Taehyung once again had to let out another laugh. “What are you doing today, Oppa?”

         “Oh, uh…” Taehyung thought about his next words carefully. He didn’t want to admit that he was going on – what he considered to be – a date. Not because he was worried it would create issues, he was in no way popular enough for that. He honestly, didn’t think it was anyone’s business. “Just going to the museum so that I can get some artistic inspiration.” The girls offered each other smiles.

         “I hope it works out.” They said happily. “Maybe next time, we can join you.” Taehyung blinked.

         “We’ll see…” He laughed nervously.

         “Oh! Can we take a picture, Oppa?” Seohyun asked curiously. Taehyung nodded, smiling as he watched the girls dig into their purses to grab their phones. Taehyung took this moment to look back over his shoulder to see if he caught you arriving yet. He didn’t, and a sigh escaped his lips. “Ready!” they cheered, and Taehyung turned back around. He watched as Seohyun lifted her phone, angling it so that both girls and Taehyung were in the shot. Seohyun put up a peace sign, her friend threw up a finger heart, and Taehyung put a peace sign over his eye. The click of the camera sent that picture into Seohyun’s photo’s app, and she gasped in excitement. Almost immediately, she pulled it up and showed her friend, who immediately begged for it to be sent to her phone. “Thank you, Oppa.” They gasped, looking up at Taehyung. Their eyes were sparkling and they were grinning like little children. It made Taehyung feel a warm and fuzzy sensation throughout his body. He had met a lot of fans at shows and in random spots, but most of them have usually only commented on his looks. These girls mentioned his art somewhat, and that alone made him feel happy.

         As the girls continued to look at the picture, Taehyung once again turned around to look for you. As his eyes scanned the crowd once again, he saw you. You were approaching the entrance to the bus station, fixing your bag that rested across your chest as you walked. Your hair, unlike almost every other time he had seen you out, was not tied up in cue ribbons, but instead was released, and fully resting on your shoulders. You were wearing an oversized beige sweatshirt that was decorated with brown and black stripes. It was tucked into a brown skirt, one that clung to your hips much like the skirts you wore to work, however, this one was much more casual, and looked a lot cuter on you. Taehyung let out a breathless chuckle as he watched you get closer, and quickly called your name. When you looked up in his direction, so did the two girls.

         “Hey~!” You grinned, hurrying over to Taehyung. “I heard it was supposed to rain so I brought my umbrella just in case, and wanted to make sure I’ve dressed appropriately so I was running a bit late. Then, I got lost in the crowds when I got here so I had to find my footing a bit, and-.” When you looked up at Taehyung, you saw him grinning playfully as you continued to ramble. It only made you laughed nervously. “Were you waiting long?”

         “No, not at all. I was able to keep busy.” He grinned. “You look nice, once again,” Taehyung said. You smiled, smoothing out your skirt.

         “Thanks. I wasn’t sure what I could wear to a museum that made me look sophisticated.” Both of you laughed a bit. “I’m glad I look okay.” Taehyung nodded, offering you his arm.   

         “Shall we go?” He asked, looking down at you. You hummed, smiling up at him before nodding, hesitantly taking his arm. Taehyung could see that hesitancy and bit his lip a bit.

         “Let’s go.” He said happily. As the two of you began to make your way inside, the girls were standing in front of you. “Hello again.” He greeted. You raised an eyebrow, staring at the two girls who looked less than amused.

         “You have a girlfriend?” Seohyun pouted sadly. Taehyung looked over at you and saw your cheeks tint pink. However, you said nothing. Taehyung had no idea what to say to them, not sure if confession that you were not a thing yet could ruin everything, he had been working towards with you.

         “I’m not his girlfriend.” You said quickly. “We’re coworkers…but who are you two, anyway?” The girls exchanged glances.

         “Fans,” Taehyung said simply. “I took a picture with them while I waited for you.” You hummed, nodding your head before offering them a smile.

         “Yeah, and he can’t have a girlfriend, Seohyun, because while we were talking to him, he was-.” The girl was interrupted by you lifting your hand in her direction, and she blinked.

         “We’re going to miss our bus….” You said simply. The girls, nor Taehyung gave a response. “…Well, it was nice to meet you. Have a good day.” You said simply. The girls tried to but back in, but you calmly nodded your head and led Taehyung into the bus station. “So, Taehyung, how long ‘til the bus arrives?” You asked curiously.

         “About 30 minutes. We have enough time to grab a snack on the way if you’re hungry.” The girls watched the two of you create small talk, heading deeper into the crowds of people both entering and exiting the station along with you. Once you were out of their sight, the girls stood there, defeated in their failed attempt to try and intimidate you.

         Taehyung looked over at the door when you were deep enough in, to see if those girls ended up following you. They didn’t, and Taehyung let out a sigh of relief, glad to avoid any issues. Upon looking back at you, he saw you staring up at him.

         “…What?” he asked.

         “Was that girl going to say you were flirting with them before I got there?” You asked curiously. Taehyung ran a hand through his hair.

         “Probably. But I didn’t. They were just asking for a picture and talked about my art. It made me happy, I was trying to be nice.” You nodded, shrugging.

         “It doesn’t matter to me.” You said simply. “They were very pretty so I wouldn’t blame you.”

         “I wasn’t,” Taehyung said again, harsher this time. A smile formed on your face, and you squeezed his arm just a bit.

         “I know.” You replied simply. “I’m just kidding.”

         “Not very funny…” Taehyung pouted, causing a giggle to arise from your stomach. Taehyung sighed, smiling a bit as well from your infectious giggle. “Come on, now. Let’s get going.” You grinned, nodding as you followed Taehyung down the hallway and towards the faster-arriving bus.

         As both of you stood waiting for the bus to pull up to the station, you looked at Taehyung. He had pulled out his phone, typing away on the keyboard with his hand, his other arm still extended to provide you with something to hold. You had yet to let go, but he didn’t seem to mind the position. You stared ahead as the bus pulled up to the stop, and people got off the bus and headed onto the streets of Seoul, some listening to music while others chatted with friends both in person or on the phone. Taehyung gently led you onto the bus and motioned you towards the first available seats he could grab. You smiled at him as he seated himself beside you. “Are you excited?” he asked, smiling at you.

         A quick nod, followed by a smile was your initial response. “Yeah. I think museums are pretty fun.”

         “You always struck me as the kind of person who loves museums.” He said simply. You shrugged.

         “Guess I’m not as much of a stick in the mud as you thought, hm?” Taehyung laughed a bit.

         “I guess not.” He cooed. “But even if you were, I don’t think I would have minded either way.” You felt your cheeks tint pink, and you immediately looked out the window, watching as the bus started up and pulled from the stop and into the traffic on the streets. You didn’t know how to reply to that one.

         So, you didn’t.

         Upon reaching the bus stop, it was another 5 minutes to walk to the actual museum, but neither one of you minded. Despite the gloomy weather, you would most likely get inside before any major rainfall occurred. So, arm in arm, you made your way down the block to the museum. As you both arrived, the museum in view along with crowds of people exiting and entering, you felt Taehyung’s arms flex a bit. When you looked up at him, his eyes were sparkling more and more with every step closer.

He was so entranced in what he was looking at, and you were too invest in him, that neither of you noticed two familiar figured that caught immediate glances at you as you headed inside.

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[an-ambivalent]

Hi, can i request a scenario? It's okay if you don't do it :) Can you make depressed and lonely yandere! Artist! Tae falling in love with his s/o? Thank you :")

Hello! Sorry this took ages, and this turned out to be quite different to what I thought of writing it as, or you requested. Sorry about that :’D I hope you still like this though! 

This is very slightly loosely based off Barbie as Rapunzel 

Warning: As this  contains yandere themes, the characters display behaviors that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fiction. I do not believe any of the mentioned members would display any sort of this behaviour irl, nor do I condone this sort of behaviour.

Pairings: Yandere! Taehyung x Reader | Yoonji x Reader

Word Count: 4.9K

Xanadu Of Strokes

Art was a peculiar thing – it was such a broad term that held significant meaning and value to many. But at the same time, it was also perceived as an insignificant subject with no worth, and seen as a complete waste of time. One person may believe that art is mere sketching, while most tend to have a general understanding that it included painting, music, writing, dancing and more – it was a vast definition that was limited only by one’s imagination; art was a self expression that allowed one to explore the darkest version of themselves, and express that secretive dark self of them through symbols, words, and actions without fearing judgement. 

Taehyung  was someone who held art dearly to his heart. To him, art was as essential as breathing – it meant everything to him. Art was his only means of expressing himself in the life where he was allowed to show no emotion. Similarly, in the life where he had little to no freedom, and no means of leaving the four walls that constantly confined him, a single paint brush was his only means of escape. 

It was exhilarating – to be able to escape into the world of his own creation and be the most respected and powerful person. It was a facade fictional ideal he used to cope with the powerlessness he could likely never overcome in this current reality. He was all but a simple man who had been kept captive for as long as he could remember. In a gigantic and tall tower that loomed over everything in the middle of nowhere, where he had been cut off from the outside his entire life, his capturer Min Yoonji,  had kept his freedom limited to one room. Miss. Yoonji had claimed that it was too dangerous for someone like Taehyung to be outside, that his being and what he had to offer, was too good for anyone except for her to see. 

For some strange reason, she had a weird obsession with his hair. While he did not mind, Taehyung found it strange how she always forced him to keep his hair one specific length – never shorter or longer than its current length. Each day, morning and night, she would run her fingers through his soft locks, wash it in a specific way, talk about how beautiful it was, and how it was going to be the big break she needed to finally make her mark in the world. She treated his hair as if it was cultivating some sort of magic. 

Unbeknownst to Taehyung, his hair was magical. Yoonji was an obsessive aspiring fashion designer. Each time she crafted an outfit and integrated a lock of Taehyung’s hair in her designed outfits, they would become engulfed in white light before quickly transforming and taking a life of their own. She eagerly looked forward to the day when she would complete her fashion line, and release her unique clothes into the world. 

Presently, Taehyung had finished another painting with his one and only brush. Just like what painting and his own art to mean, the brush he used felt like it was his life line. Ever since he found it, Taehyung made sure to keep this brush his own secret and hidden away from Yoonji at all costs – it was his only ticket to getaway in order to keep himself sane. Not to mention, the brush painted whatever Taehyung  imagined as an actual artwork, and it was artwork that lived and breathed. 

Taehyung made it a habit to paint only cities or certain places with intricate details. That way, he could visit the cities he had created, and its’ people in it. He was able to experience the world of his creations taking on their life, and relish in the world where he was not a powerless isolated human, but where he had all the power. 

One thing that Taehyung failed to realize was that his “hobby” of going into his paintings that he created was something that was beginning to develop into an obsession. Especially since the more time he spent in his paintings, which increased with each visit, a part of his soul was left behind in the world of his artwork. This would continue to be so until his whole soul would solely exist in that fantasy realm, and he could no longer return to his reality. 

Out of all the world’s he had painted, and by extension, visited, Xanadu was his favourite. It was where people were at their loviest, art was at its finest, etiquette was its richest, and him, Kim Taehyung, was the strongest. 

People bowed at his feet, and worshiped him for he was their God, their ruler; it was only in this world that his talent as an artist was acknowledged. Everyone appreciated his artworks as blessings the way they should, and would kill to have him paint for them. 

But most importantly, it was the world where his most beloved, who he treasured more than his brush, lived. The world where his most beautiful, and his favourite piece he had ever created breathed.

You were the main reason Taehyung spent hours upon hours locked in Xanadu, and spent enough time that he was beginning to lose his soul. 

Like he always did during this time of the day, Taehyung walked towards one of the walls in his room. A big, loose, rusty red and gold cloth was draped on the wall to hide the world that laid behind; Xanadu. 

With the back of his hand, Taehyung moved the cloth aside. His eyes that were usually lacking of interest and life, glowed with a lustrous wonder and excitement. His heart-shaped lips stretched into a wide grin. With much practice now by his side, he had become accustomed to travelling between fantasy and reality. 

Eyebags that had appeared underneath his eyes were much more prominent than they had been ever before. It was a sign that indicated how he was close to losing the last few fragments of his soul. For a mere second, his eyes glistened a dangerous and chilling blue. It disappeared as soon as it had appeared, and Taehyung allowed his hand to be absorbed into the painting, before his whole body slipped into it. 

The moment Taehyung entered Xanadu, a bright light glowed throughout his entire body. His shabby appearance which consisted of being dressed in a huge, baggy, and poor-quality robe that reached his ankles, and a white loose and baggy pants underneath it, morphed into a gold tux that radiated extravagance. There were white cuffs near the end of the sleeves towards the hands, and they folded inwards. His appearance, apart from his hair, which was usually unkempt, glistened with life and glowed. Lastly, unlike how his hair was more on the longer side in reality, in Xanadu, it was shorter, and hence easier to deal with. 

Whenever Taehyung entered Xanadu, he always landed in the same area: a small clearing field off of an alley, which was off the main street of Xanadu. As he was the only person who left and entered this world, he was the only one who knew of this. Taehyung’s mahogany eyes ran over his attire of today, and he soothed down his tux. He patted the inner breast pocket of his tux, and when he felt his treasured brush, the corner of his lips twitched upward in a satisfied smirk. 

Walking out of the grass, and the alley leading from the clearing to the main streets, Taehyung kept himself hidden in the overcasting shadows of the alley. Once he saw the opportunity, Taehyung entered amongst the strolling civilians of Xanadu, who roamed the streets for various purposes. 

The common attire worn in Xanadu consisted of clothes that one would categorize as formal in his reality. For this reason, Taehyung did not stand out with the way he chose to dress. It was not until he walked on the familiar path that led to his abode in this world, passing by people who he was acquainted with, did the word float around that their master had arrived to bestow them. 

As Taehyung walked past Miss Camila’s fruit store, the petite older female waved at him with a wide smile, and he returned her gesture with just as much friendliness.  This sudden exchange between the two caused the customers in her immensely busy store to turn towards the direction of her wave. 

They gasped when they noticed it was the notorious artist. Not wanting to be in their line of sight more than necessary, Taehyung continued on his way. As he passed more locals, and spared a few seconds of his precious time to greet them, onlookers ended up halting in the midst of what they were doing simply to gawk at his brilliance. 

When he had first started to visit Xanadu, and then later, begin travelling down this road to this actual home, Taehyung was more than happy to stop and entertain NPC’s and invest his entire time with them. However, now, he did not want to spare even a single more second than necessary – if any. This was because the more time he would give to them, meant the less time he had with you. Especially with Yoonji breathing down his neck on the other side. He could not even begin to imagine what she would do if she found him missing, and learned about the fat that Taehyung was able to escape, or what his brush could do. 

It was not long until after a few turns to the left and right, away from the main crowds and towards the secluded area where there was almost no one, that Taehyung reached his desired destination. 

His home he stood before was small, composed of mahogany brown wood. The windows were visible at the exterior of the house and the entrance door was painted white. The roof was dirty green, and next to the steps that led to the entrance, were vast types of flowers and plants. The darker hue of brown, and dirty green contrasted well against the darker leaves, lighter brown branches of trees that surrounded his home; it appeared to be quite cozy. 

Taehyung walked up the steps of his abode, unlocked the front door, and stepped in. Then, he gave the premises around his home one last glance to make sure no one had seen him enter it, before he closed the door. He shrugged off the coat of his tux and hung it on the coat holder. Then, he proceeded to walk through the living room, up a flight of stairs, before he unlocked a room and entered it. In that room, on the large king-sized bed that was in the middle of the lavish room, laid a woman, whom’s arms and legs were tied to the bed with soft crimson silk. 

As Taehyung moved closer to the bed, his lips were beginning to stretch into a fond smile. He was finally here. After so long, he could finally see, touch, and be happy with his beloved once again. 

Whether it was something he had not realized, or knew but chose to ignore for the sake of it, but what Taehyung did to you, was exactly what Yoonji did to him which he despised her for immensely. He stripped you off your freedom and caged you as his captive. That was all good though because unlike Taehyung, you were not real. You existed as his creation and therefore, for him. There was no need for you to be your own person, or have your own life when you could just exist for Taehyung, and to keep him satisfied. 

Your eyes, tired and filled with desperate need, fluttered open as Taehyung sat by you, and gently brushed his fingers against the soft skin of your skin, to inform you of his arrival. 

“Time to wake up sweetheart, I’m finally here. I’m sorry I took longer than last time. I tried to be as fast as I could, I’m sorry that I barely only made it when you’re on the verge of dying from starvation and dehydration. I promise I’ll be faster next time. Here have some water first,” Taehyung murmured, as he held out a glass to you. Conditioned to be obedient to his every word, you obliged and started to slowly slip the water instantly. Then, after another glass of water, he started to feed you some bread. You ate it without any complaints, or putting up a struggle. 

See, since long time ago, you learned your lesson the hard way and now knew that it was best to let Taehyung do whatever he wanted, and allow him to have his way. The consequences of struggling against him, when he would always be granted to be the victor, was not worth it. Besides, like he had mentioned, you were literally on the brink of death. And so, the only thing that mattered to you right now was having access to water so it would not feel like you were living in a dry desert in your own body, and to have food in your stomach so you would not feel so utterly weak and sick. 

Frankly speaking, your situation was horrendous. But to Taehyung, it was delusionally perfect and something that was the best for you both. You did not know why he did this, or why he felt the way he did, but Taehyung wanted to do everything for you. Feeding you, changing you, washing you, and everything else – nothing was an exception to this rule. With his smothering presence that breathed down your neck every second of the day, you had absolutely no privacy. He treated you as if you were an incompetent baby, and he was the overbearing parent who could not help but spoil you to the point where he literally did do everything for you. 

Initially, such loss of your own autonomy was downright humiliating for you. You had never been forced into such confinement from someone as controlling as Taehyung before, who left you feeling completely helpless and powerless. You desperately wished there would be way you could rescue yourself, or have someone rescue from the devil’s clutches that belonged to Kim Taehyung. 

It was ironic really – Taehyung believed that the people of Xanadu respected him and worshiped him because he claimed to be the creator of some sort and it was out of their love for him. However, that was not the case. Everyone seemingly kissed the ground he walked on out of fear, and because they had to. Your ruler had heard from other cities that no longer existed about what happened to them when they refused to bow before the outsider in gold who claimed to be their creator. In anger, with the aid of the brush of creation by his side, he had annihilated their entire civilizations. Now, Xanadu, had no choice but to entertain his delusional ideas,  and for your own sake, and your people’s, you were the one who had it the worst and had to go along with all of his schemes, and at the cost of your entire life, entertain his sick ideas of love. 

It disgusted you to your core. Especially the thought of how an outsider from the other side could have gotten their hands on the brush of creation, travel to your world, claim it to be their creation, and continue to travel to this side and be willing to lose their soul in order to do so – it was all too much to think about, and even revolting at some point. 

You just wished Taehyung could disappear so you and other inhabitants of Xanadu could live in peace and with your freedom once again. 

“You’re such a good girl for me,” Taehyung murmured, his eyes eerily wide, as he petted your head in approval. Then, abruptly, he leaned down and licked some of the crumbs that were on the corner of your lips. It took your entire will-power to not grimace as he did this. 

Shortly after, Taehyung moved away from you, and gave you a sweet smile. If it was not for everything he had done to you, you would have actually found it sweet, and maybe cute. But after being forced to dance with this devil and getting burned, you knew it was anything but sweet or cute. 

“You’ve been really strong and good by patiently waiting for me the entire last few days and doing exactly what I say. You definitely deserve a reward for your current behaviour. Now, before I do this, I’m going to explain a few things, and if you fail to listen to me you will pay the price. Do I make myself clear?” He enquired, and you mindlessly nodded. Although, in the pit of your stomach, butterflies churned in an uncomfortable way that filled you with anxiety, and made you want to puke.  After all, who knows what sort of revolting things Taehyung considered a ‘reward.’ 

“I’m going to untie your bindings and let you roam around in the house,” He started, and your eyes widened in surprise. Almost instantly, a grin started to form on your lips. You were unable to control your reaction, and as this happened, Taehyung narrowed his eyes at you because you had never smiled like that for him. 

“And I’ll be leaving you to your own devices for a bit while I go and buy something for a special time together since it’s been a while since we’ve done anything together. While I’m gone, and I leave you alone, do you promise to stay within your limits? No attempting to runaway, hurt yourself, or make a plan to hurt me. Can I trust you to do that?” Taehyung asked, his voice etched with caution. 

You were having a difficult time grasping the fact that he was going to allow you to have freedom. Not wanting to let such a rare opportunity slip from your hands, you nodded. 

He was hesitant for a few seconds, before he sighed, and eventually reached out to untie the harshly binding silk cloth. As his fingers brushed against your bruised wrists, you held your breath in anticipation. He intertwined his finger in the cloth, before his movements halted, and his eyes averted to yours. He gazed into your eyes with an intense gaze, and promises of danger swam in his mahogany coloured irises. 

“I’ll remind you in case you forget. Remember, the fate of your entire country rests in your hands. You make one wrong move, you do one thing that aggravates me, and I’ll make sure no one else exists in this country anymore. No one else but us. As much as it hurts me to say this,  you don’t want that do you?” He said posing a looming threat over you with his words. 

You inwardly winced. 

“N-No,” You responded, and looked down towards your body in order to avoid Taehyung’s gaze. 

Taehyung nodded in approval. 

“Good, then make sure to keep up your good behaviour,” He said, before he untied all of your bindings. Afterwards, he leaned closer to you, and kissed you forcefully, and for longer than you would have liked him to. However, with freedom finally being just at the tip of your fingertips, you knew better than to mess up now. 

Once Taehyung pulled away, his cheeks feeling hot, he gave you one last grin, before getting up, and making his way out of your room, and out of the house. 

“I’ll see you soon my love,” He said, and walked out. 

Even after the sound of the front door being shut and locked resonated throughout the household, signalling that Taehyung had left, you remained seated on the bed. You were lost in your thoughts due to still being unable to grasp the fact that you were not tied up like a caged dog anymore. It wasn’t until the noise of your bedroom’s door knob being fiddled with in an attempt to open it reached your ears were you forced out of your train of thoughts. 

Your eyes widened because what? You lived alone the majority of the time, and had been for who knows how long due to your captivity. The only person who visited you was Taehyung, and always in utter desperation to see you, he would just walk in straight away. Fiddling with the door knob was NOT his style which only meant one thing… Someone was breaking in. 

Did that… did that mean they were going to hurt you? 

You did not get a chance to ponder on this because the door was kicked open harshly, and someone who looked oddly familiar, but you could never recall ever meeting her, strolled in. 

She had straight hair that ended at her neck and looked to be quite soft and silky. Her bangs ended just past her eyebrows. She wore a full sleeve white ruffle top, and on top of her top, a brown leather waist cincher hugged her waist. You noticed how unlike waist cincher that inhabitants often wore, her’s had locks of hair woven into it. She wore baggy dark brown pants, and long brown leather boots that reached just beneath her knees. Lastly, she wore fingerless gloves, and there were a variety of weapons attached to her hip: two daggers, a gun, and a sword. It was as if she was on a mission to haunt somebody. 

All to soon, her eyes shifted to your quivering form. There was a dangerous aura of a predator radiating off her. Cautiously, her eyes scanned your figure up and down to examine if you posed as a threat in anyway. Momentarily, unbeknownst to you, her gaze focused on your wrists that were heavily bruised since you had been tied up for so long. Her eyes narrowed into a glare at that observation, before they shifted to your face. 

She felt sorry for you. 

“Out of everything, Xanadu was the last place I expected Taehyung to be hiding in. And you to be last reason I could ever imagine being his reason for escaping. I’m surprised; didn’t expect someone as sheltered as him to have such good taste,” She said, while the last sentence was muttered more to herself. At the unexpected compliment, your cheeks reddened. You didn’t give it too much thought though because at the moment, there was a bigger fish to fry. You didn’t miss out on the fact that she had said Taehyung’s name. 

Having the courage you did not know you had to voice the questions you wondered about, you spoke. 

“W-Who are you? And how do you know him? Are you here to keep an eye on me to make sure I don’t do anything while he’s gone?!“ 

Seeing the unease and worry on your face, in addition with the questions you asked, caused her to raise an eyebrow. 

“What? Me, a spy for Taehyung? Don’t make me laugh. I want him gone, permanently. I’m Min Yoonji. I would tell you about my relationship with Taehyung but you might be a spy for him,” She retorted. 

Immediately, you scoffed. 

“The last thing he would have me as would be a spy. I’m nothing but fancy decor for him – he has had me locked up for ages and has taken my entire dignity from me. I would never associate myself with a monster like him if Xanadu’s safety didn’t depend on the fact that I have to play pretend as his submissive,” You uttered bitterly, looking down at your lap. 

Yoonji’s eyes widened, and her eyes roamed to your back that was slightly exposed due to your bent position. The numerous cuts and bruises that covered it caused anger to rise in her, and she clenched her fist. 

You looked so broken, so lost, so hurt. Seeing such an expression on your face, the fact that one of her people she had failed to protect, suffered at the hands of an outsider, made her chest feel heavy in sorrow. 

She walked towards you, and went down on one knee so she would be at your eye level. Then, her hand grabbed yours, and her fingers intertwined with yours; she squeezed your hands gently yet firmly in reassurance. 

“What’s your name?” She asked, and you looked up and found yourself staring into her eyes. Unlike before, when her eyes were narrowed at you into a cold stone and apathetic stare, they were now etched with warmth. A bright shine that made you feel as if that now, you weren’t alone anymore, and that now, she would make sure everything was going to be okay, illuminated her eyes. 

“[Surname] [Name],” You answered, and noticed that there was a slight crack in your voice, and you felt like you were on the verge of crying. 

Yoonji smiled sweetly at you. 

“That’s a beautiful name. Say [Name], do you know about the prophecy?” She wondered, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“What prophecy?” 

“The prophecy of the outsider who would come to possess the brush of creation and pose a threat to the inside realm and to people like us. Just like you, I’m from Xanadu. I’m the next heir for our country, but the information about my existence was never made public. You see, I’ve been raised as a fighter, because according to the prophecy, only a royal blood who has been outside can stop the painter that seeks the destruction – who is Taehyung. Before returning home, I did my best to keep him locked up and weak in the outside world so he couldn’t come here. 

“But evidently, my plan has failed since he still somehow managed to get his hands on our brush and not only destroy other countries, but hurt you, one of my people I am meant to protect. I am deeply ashamed of my failures and for allowing you to get hurt. I don’t know if this will allow me to gain your forgiveness, but as a personal victim of Taehyung, I at least should tell you of all people. 

“I have cultivated Taehyung’s hair and woven them into many clothes which will protect us from the magic of brush. Not only that, but Taehyung’s lost his soul. So with no more spiritual energy to offer, his bond has weakened and it won’t be long before he is unable to wield the brush. He’s weakening so no matter what he tries, I will easily take him down. Then, everyone of us can be free and live our own lives without fearing Taehyung again,” Yoonji reassured smiling. You would have gasped loudly still trying to get your head around all the information Yoonji told you had it not been that you two got interrupted by the very person you both despised. 

“You must be delusional if you think I’ll just let you hurt me Yoonji,” Taehyung greeted in a hiss, and both Yoonji’s and your eyes snapped towards him. 

Your eyes widened in fear, while Yoonji stood up to her full height, and faced him standing in front of you, with her back turned towards you in order to hide you from him. Confidence oozed out of her, and although you could not see her expression, she smirked. 

“I don’t have to hurt you. The brush will hurt you for me. Your eyes are glowing blue Taehyung, you use it one more time and you’ll be gone. It would be in your best interest to give up and hand over Xanadu back to me,” Yoonji warned, as she unsheathed her sword, and prepared to duel. 

Taehyung smirked. 

“If I’m a goner, then I’m taking all of you with me, especially you [Name]. You’re mine! I won’t let anyone else have you or Xanadu. I created you so I get to decide what I do with you,” Taehyung stated, as he prepared to paint the end with the brush of creation he had in his hand. 

You whimpered, and out of fear, went to hold onto Yoonji. However, as you tried to grab onto what you would have assumed to be Yoonji’s clothes, you found yourself trying to grab onto thin air. 

You gasped when you saw Yoonji running towards Taehyung in a blinding speed, and before you even had the chance to blink, she had kicked at the back of his knees causing him to drop onto the floor. Then, she with the hilt of the sword, she hit brush of creation out of his hands, before grabbing both of his hands and twisting it behind his arm. Taehyung yelled in pain as Yoonji pushed him onto the ground. Then, she held her sword to his neck. 

“One wrong move, and I’ll kill you right here and right now,” She started in a warning. Simultaneously, she pricked his skin with the tip of her sword, causing him to hiss in pain, as miniscule amount of blood leaked out from the minor cut. 

“Kim Taehyung, you are under arrest for destroying countries and threatening the safety and peace of Xanadu,” She declared, before pausing to turn her eyes to you. 

Then finally, she said the words you would have killed to hear. 

“You’re safe and free now. I swear on my life to protect Xanadu and its’ people to make sure it stays that way.” 

________

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