#A lot of love and work has gone into this project and I'm so excited to start showing off the finished product!

[felassan]

Transcript of the DA:TV ‘Meet The Companions’ panel @ SDCC.

Update: this post has now been updated into a full transcript.

BioWare have said that they are going to share a recording of the panel at a later date. In the meantime, here is a transcript of it. When the recording is available, I will update this post further if required. This is a word-for-word transcript (in as far as it was possible to make one, it was quite a noisy room with lots of people in it), but a few bits were not clearly audible - these are marked as "[...]". listening to the original source in audio/video format, when it’s available, first-hand is of course always advisable, in case of any mis-hearings or missing things out etc on my part!! :>

there are other things from the panel here in this BioWare blogpost, collected in this compilation post, and also in this Tumblr post.

The panel was moderated/hosted by Lucy James. In attendance were creative director John Epler, creative performance director Ashley Barlow, and the actors of Lucanis, Neve, Emmrich, and Harding - Zach Mendez, Jessica Clark, Nick Boraine, and Ali Hillis respectively.

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[panel begins]

Lucy: Goodness me, there are a lot of you. Hello everyone. Hello San Diego. But more importantly, hello Dragon Age fans! Give yourselves a cheer! Now welcome to a panel that I am so excited to be moderating today. A little bit of, what do you call it, a little bit of, I'm just gonna say it, we're doing Q&A at the end. There is a microphone right here. I will give a warning - housekeeping was the word I was searching for. We're gonna be doing Q&A at the end. I will give you a warning to come up and ask questions to this incredible panel of developers from BioWare and actors from the brand new Dragon Age game, The Veilguard. I'm Lucy James, I'm your moderator for today, but you're not here for me, you're here for these incredible people, so let's go down the line and see who we have on the panel today. We have creative director John Epler. Creative performance director Ashley Barlow. The poised and pragmatic assassin, playing the role of Lucanis, Zach Mendez. The necromancer Emmrich, we have Nick Boraine. Absolutely did not mean to skip, but we have different, different lineup over here. The voice behind the private detective Neve, Jessica Clark. And returning franchise favorite, you know her as Lace Harding, the lovable Scout, Ali Hillis. Now, we all love Dragon Age games for multiple reasons, whether it is the combat, the impactful decisions that we get to make, the romances - I know my [...], I know my - but the heart and soul of every game is always the companions, and so we are gonna be doing a deep dive into some of the new cast as well as, like I said, returning franchise favorite. So I'm gonna kick off with you, John.

John: Awesome.

Lucy: Can, you know, you've been at BioWare for a couple of years now.

John: Yeah, seventeen years as of this year, so.

Lucy: Wow. Can you tell us a little bit about your history with Dragon Age?

John: Absolutely. So as mentioned, I've been at BioWare for coming up on seventeen years now. I worked as a QA tester on Dragon Age: Origins, moved into cinematic design, did that [...] Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, and then became lead cinematic designer for Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser, where I worked closely with Trick Weekes, building out that story. And then now as creative director on Dragon Age: The Veilguard, which has been just a fantastic project to be a part of.

Lucy: Now, I assume pretty much everyone in this room has gone frame-by-frame through the trailers and gameplay videos and every BioWare social post about Dragon Age, but just in case there's anyone in the room who is unfamiliar, give us the quick overview of Dragon Age: The Veilguard?

John: Absolutely. So Dragon Age: The Veilguard is the latest entry in the Dragon Age franchise. It takes place approximately ten years after the end of Inquisition. You start the game hunting for Solas. It's a game built on some core principles of: be who you want to be, in a world worth saving, and with characters who matter. So, again, companions always at the heart of Dragon Age, they're at the heart of this one as well.

Lucy: And so, I mean, why is this team coming together? You mentioned it a little bit there, and like, what's bringing this, kinda 'rogues' gallery' together?

John: I mean it's the end of the world, and each character that you bring into your party understands that the world's ending, that they need to stop that, and you're really building, what I would say is more of a found family. These are characters who may not start off liking each other, may not even start off liking you, but over time, they grow to understand the importance of what they're doing and just, how critical it is to stop the elven gods.

Lucy: Now we were chatting a little bit before the panel, and you kinda said, like, a bold statement which was that this is one of the best groups BioWare has ever written. I say 'bold', cause we all have our favorites. What makes you say that? What's going on with The Veilguard that makes them so special?

John: Yeah, I mean, I think that every Dragon Age game the companions we write and create for those games are the best companions for that one. And I think in this case, what's really fascinating and what I've really loved to see come out through the game, through its development is, the way these characters form relationships, not just with you but with each other, so, whereas, you know, sometimes characters maybe don't interact as much. Each one of these has a relationship that extends beyond Rook, the protagonist, but also some become friends, some become lovers, and some become rivals. And it's just, the way that they learn to get over their differences, or put them aside, has really been fun and exciting, because they all represent a different part of the world of Thedas.

Lucy: I am very excited to see how these family dynamics come together, avoiding my real life family for my virtual family. Ashley, you’ve been playing a huge role in helping bring these characters to life. Can you tell us a little bit about your role at BioWare?

Ashley: Yeah. I’m the creative performance director, so I get to cast all of these characters, with the team at BioWare, of course. And then work tirelessly in the booth with them, I mean, they just met like this weekend. I just silo them off, and they do their work, and they listen to each other, and, you know, 3000 hours later, and then they get them back around, and we can iterate on it, and they can say, ‘oh, oh that’s what everyone sounds like!’, now they get to play off of it. So, it’s a big road-trip in a VO booth. From my house.

Lucy: A big road trip. A big deal. A big game. Where do you even begin with a behemoth like this?

Ashley: We, we audition our companions. We have to make sure that our leads can play off of each other, that compliment each other, that juxtapose each other. Like John said, it’s kind of like a family, an un-chosen family, and so we need them to, you know, it’s, you need to create an ensemble, a diverse ensemble, so that the players get the choice of who they want to bring on this hero’s journey. And so, we brought them all in, you know, and they, we do motion capture, so we need to see how they move, and how they walk, and how they talk, and how they can act like heroes. And they all carry themselves so well. Now, it’s tripping me out, because they all look like their characters to me.

Lucy: Now, there are plenty of returning faces in The Veilguard, but there are new companions that we will get to know and love. Let’s start with Lucanis. John, can you give us a little quick overview of his background, and what’s his deal?

John: Absolutely. So Lucanis is the stylish assassin from the Antivan Crows, you know. But, not bloodthirsty, more, as he sees assassination as a job, one that he is extremely skilled at. Over the course of the story, you learn more about him, more about his character, more about his relationship, not just within The Veilguard, but also with the Crows and with other characters in the world. And I think, it’s fascinating to see how that grows over the course of the game.

Lucy: Now Zach, you are the voice. I mean, how do you approach this? Where did you […]?

Zach: Well, when I first found out I got the role, I read Tevinter Nights, which is the book, that came out [...] and you should read. And I read The Wigmaker Job, in which Lucanis is featured. I read it about three times, and after I closed the book I realized, ‘this might be the coolest guy I ever get to play’. I mean, not only is he a smooth assassin, not only is he determined - yes, he can kill you a thousand different ways, but what struck me was, his mind is as dangerous as his knives. I mean this is a guy who takes in the environment with all five senses. He’s constantly attuning himself to the kind of shifting terrain of every mission. And also, he’s kinda hilarious. I mean, if you look at his relationship with his cousin Illario, in The Wigmaker Job, they’re constantly giving each other crap. But there’s a lotta love there, so I got to pull, you know, from my relationship with my brother. Because we love each other dearly, but we can be ruthless with each other. And so, it was really easy to play in that way.

Lucy: I mean, yeah, you mentioned being a comedian there. Ashley, how was working with Zach?

Ashley: Yeah.

Lucy: Harnessing that and bringing it to the character.

Ashley: Zach’s one of the funniest people I know. And that’s a lot to live up to. But, you know, he came in as one of the most adaptable actors. And, you know, we did a lot of motion capture during 2020, 2021, 2022, even 2023, and so Zach stood in for like, Assan, and Varric, like all the characters [...] just mostly, most - [a scene plays on the screen behind the panel of the actors doing mo-cap. Zach as Assan hops along the ground like :D over to Davrin, Rook and another character. Davrin is happy to see him and scratches him under the chin. Davrin motions to Rook, who then bends down and hugs Assan] - I mean I’m pretty sure [...] a huge inspiration for the cinematics. Once you see this scene that this is, like - remember it, 'cause [...] -

Zach: Just know, when you’re hugging Assan, you’re hugging me. That means a lot.

Ashley: It’s true! But, yeah, but, for Lucanis, Zach was able to bring, I mean once you get in the game and you meet Lucanis, you’ll know that he’s, you know, a murdering Crow, and then, is a […], you know, there’s a darkness. [there is a rumbling noise in the background and the panelists look around confused]

[?]: I think it's just thundering.

Ashley: It’s thundering, let's, let's do a -

Zach: The darkness.

[...]

Ashley: But in the darkness -

Zach: Prepare yourselves. [background noise continues]

Ali[?]: It’s coming.

Zach: Seriously, what is that? What’s happening?

A person off to the side: Other rooms!

Zach: Okay, okay, okay, thank you.

Ashley: Okay, thank you. [...] think you were doing it. As you can tell, he brought like a, he brings a lightness to it, ‘cause you can’t always be that heavy. I don’t want to be scared or crying in the booth all the time. And thank God the writers, John included, and all of the writers of Lucanis really brought some fast, quick-witted writing. So he’s quick as a whip, he really lightened it up, and can’t wait til you guys get in and play it and romance this sucker! Sorry! Sorry not sorry!

Lucy: I was going to say, how does it also feel to play a romanceable character?

Zach: Oh, I’m quite excited about it. Ashley has promised to give me the stats of how many people romance me. I'm really looking forward to that.

Lucy: No pressure, gotta get those numbers up!

Zach: Yeah, I know. But, that’s the great thing about Lucanis, is that, you know, he’s extremely smooth, as an assassin, but, and, yes, he does have a heart, he does have a soft side, he’s not completely adept at always dealing with other people and interactions of that such, you know, he’s extremely stubborn and stuck in his ways, so it’s really hard for him to let people in sometimes, so I’m really excited for fans to get to meet him, and, you know, help him open up.

Lucy: And before we go to the rest of your illustrious cast members, what’s, what was, what’s been your highlight of working on The Veilguard? Is it, you know, this moment getting to see everyone in person? Was it a story from on set one day, or an interaction with one of the devs?

Zach: Well, you know, I did, before the first day of shooting, I did kinda get an idea about how passionate the fanbase was, which made me really excited. I don’t wanna say nervous, because I don’t say I’m nervous, I say I’m excited. And so before the first day of shoot, I was very excited. And luckily, you know, Ashley and them, didn’t have me do too much on the first day. I played a lot of darkspawn. I darkspawn-ed my ass off, though. I want you guys to know, I really –

Ashley: Oh he did, yeah.

Zach: – and when I got home, I thought to myself, you know, ‘Zach, did you darkspawn hard enough?’ I was just worried! You know, and within an hour I got a text from Jeff, who’s a part of this cast as well, and Jee, telling me what a great job I did. And then, I’ll never forget. I got a call from Ali Hillis down here. And I will remember that conversation, because for thirty minutes, she made me feel like I was welcome in the Dragon Age family, and it gave me so much confidence moving forward. So thank you Ali, so much, I still remember that, God bless you.

Lucy: That is lovely. See, the family stuff coming up already. I’m very excited.

Ashley: [...]

Lucy: Right, let’s move on. Coming to the private detective, Neve, who we actually got a glimpse of in the gameplay reveal from a few weeks ago. Let’s take a quick look. [a scene plays on the screen; the scene when Rook meets Neve in the prologue with Varric and Harding, that we saw in the gameplay reveal video] Now John, can you give us a quick overview of Neve?

John: Absolutely. So Neve, as you can see in the video, is one of the first companions that you encounter in Dragon Age: The Veilguard. She’s from Tevinter, Minrathous specifically. And anyone who’s played Dragon Age before knows that we’ve always talked about Minrathous, we’ve always talked about Tevinter, so we wanted to have a character who showed, not the parts of Tevinter that we’ve touched on before, you know, obviously slavery is a big part of it, it’s a mageocracy, but somebody who was pushing back, fighting back against that. And Neve’s shown up in the ancillary media as well, in the comics The Missing. And it’s just, she is that, you know, somewhat cynical detective with a bit of a heart of gold, bit of [a?] romantic, and just seeing her character evolve over the course of The Veilguard, over the course of the game, because again, she’s one of the first people you meet, is. Always fun seeing Neve’s character bounce off other the followers, banter has been super fun, just the way that she, what she brings to the table is always, it’s always so interesting to me.

Lucy: Jessica, I mean, what was it like getting that call to find out that you were gonna be in Dragon Age?

Jessica: It was slightly terrifying, and it was, I just felt really honored immediately, because I feel like, to be, I feel like they entrusted me with such, something with such significance and such importance to so many people, and so I just really wanted to honor that, and bring everything that I could to this fabulous character that I had been gifted. So yeah, that was.

Lucy: And I understand that you are kind’ve newer to the kind’ve voice acting, kind’ve realm. How was it different from more traditional roles?

Jessica: I am pretty new to it. I’ve barely done anything as significant, Dragon Age is enormous. It was very freeing honestly, I mean, like Ashley said, they auditioned and auditioned and auditioned and auditioned us. Like, every time I was brought in, I was like, ‘oh I didn’t get that’, you know what I mean? And then three months later there was another audition, and. But it was just so interesting and so freeing, because it really is sort’ve, it almost felt like play pretend, like when I was a little girl, you know? And it’s like what you dream up in your imagination. Because they, you know, they give you this character, and they give you some of the dialogue and then they really wanna see where you go with it and how you move and how you embody her and how you react to dragons that aren’t there because you’re in an audition room. You know, like all of that. So, and then, also, playing Neve, it really allowed me, and being a voice actor, it really allowed me to sort’ve step into my power a bit more, because, you know, I’m very tall, and things like that. And so, in a lot of my, sort’ve, more traditional television and film work, they kind’ve want you to be the girl, and I have to raise my voice, and be a little softer, and you know, kind’ve, not diminish myself, I don’t wanna say that, but just be very conscious of my physicality. And then Neve, it’s completely the opposite. You know, so Ashley had to work with me literally on dropping my register and things like that, and it was so confusing at the beginning, and then it was so amazing, to kind’ve have that opportunity, so I’m very grateful.

Lucy: Yeah. I mean, what drew you, what’s your favorite thing about Neve? – get that applause going, go on, let's go!

Jessica: I love her loyalty, I love her dedication, I love how much she loves Docktown and its people and how she really sees a different vision for Tevinter than, as John said, than what’s previously been depicted. And she’s really really fighting for those people, and she loves those people, and so yes she’s cynical, and yes she’s kinda tough and brusque and all these other things, but when they say there’s a heart of gold, there really, like to have that kind of a passion and dedicate your life to something like that, I think that, that’s my favorite part about her.

Lucy: And what were some of your highlights from, I mean, is it, is it kind of strange to record a video game, because I assume you’re doing things in different orders -

Ashley: Yeah.

Jessica: Oh yes.

Lucy: - working with some people some days and other people different days - tell me about that?

Jessica: I mean in terms of that, I just trusted Ashley and John, you know, and they know, and I was there to learn and embody and kind’ve grow into that. But I think my favorite thing, even though we were all separate disembodied voices a lot of the time, we kind’ve really all bonded in the way that we were intended to, you know? And that’s why we’ve been so excited all week and all weekend, because we can be like, ‘oh my god, you’re here, oh my god you’re here, you’re here, you’re here’, finally, you know? And you know, I know on a lot of projects, people are like ‘oh yeah, we’re all like, we love each other’, but we really do, we really really do. And it just evolved so organically. And there was something magical about it just being our voices in the beginning. You know, like sort’ve taking anything else out of the -

Zach: Equation.

Jessica: – you know what I’m saying. I’ve run out of words.

Ashley[?]: Yeah, it’s like an audible penpal. […] speaking to each other for so long.

Jessica: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Ashley: It's nice with Jess, [...] she hit it on the head, you know, voice acting, you know, I hate to say it, I don't wanna put Jess - Jessica’s obviously a beautiful woman, but in the booth, it doesn’t matter. We just, pulled out the power and the range that Neve has, and it’s limitless, and as a woman to see that kind of writing and that kind of performance ability is, I know for a lot of us in the room, probably, pretty badass.

Lucy: Jess, I wanna, I'm gonna come back to something, because you mentioned, like, you’ve been messaging, and that the cast, you know, really loves each other, is there a Veilguard groupchat?

Jessica: There are several.

Lucy: Hold up. Who sends the most memes, who is the person who only reacts with the thumbs-up emoji?

Jessica: I, I would say Jeff is the most active, who plays one of the Rooks, I would say, in that respect, and to bounce off what Zach said, just an incredibly generous actor. And then, Ali, like it’s so true, like I had that story too, like literally even being back there, I was like, [gasp], I was like, she’s like, ‘it’s gonna be okay’, she’s like, ‘it’s good, it’s like, you’re gonna love it, it’s gonna feel special’. She literally like held my hands and like looked into my eyes and was like [inhale, exhale], you know? [looks at Ali and reaches out to her] I love you.

Lucy: I was gonna say, if we’re doing an Ali love-in, she did that for me too. So.

[?]: She does that for everyone.

Lucy: She’s done it for everyone? Fantastic!

Ali: Guys, you’re making me cry!

Lucy: We didn’t expect, hang on, we did expect one of our companions to be - a stone cold gray fox. BioWare treating us well. Emmrich has been driving the internet wild. And so, John, can you give us a little bit of background there?

John: Absolutely.

Lucy: Where did Emmrich come from?

John: I mean honestly, I will say like, we expected a great reaction to Emmrich. Went beyond what we expected for sure. But it’s been fascinating to see, because again, Emmrich is this character, he’s more of the professorial, more, he brings a wisdom and kind of a calmness to the group, so even when things are at their worst, there’s that one person in the group who’s kind’ve like, ‘okay, you know, we’ve got, let’s figure it out, slow, take a deep breath’. And just his journey through his character arc and his interaction with the others, it’s been fantastic to see. Even just finding opportunities for him to bounce off the other characters, you know, the way he talks to Bellara, the way he talks to Neve, it’s all so different, but it’s all so just, again, based around this core of this warm, kind-hearted, professorial necromancer, which again is not something that you see a lot of in media, usually necromancers are depicted a very specific way. But it’s been, just awesome to see how Emmrich has grown and just, really one of the most, one of my favorite experiences has been just working with Emmrich’s writer and working with Emmrich as a character.

Lucy: And Nick, you are the voice behind Emmrich.

Nick: I am.

Lucy: How did you prepare for the role, you know, what were you told about him before you got into the booth for the first time?

Nick: I think I’ve been preparing for Emmrich all my life. I was very attracted to the role initially. And I was so, I was overjoyed when I got it because I think it was, the writing of Emmrich is really fascinating. It’s this, this man that is obsessed with death, on one hand, but on death as a comfort, death as a transition, death as something that is not scary, and that ability to enable people to transition, and the investment that he gives in that sphere, which we don’t give in our own lives. I was immediately attracted to that and I thought that that was – I’d never seen that before, and so to go in these two ways, to talk about death and to talk about it in a way that is kind and that the transition becomes a kind transition, that was fascinating to me, and I think, will be fascinating to you too, yeah.

Lucy: And I hear as well that Emmrich gets, I mean, you’re all gonna get some fantastic lines, but I hear that Emmrich has some quite spectacular ones. You, Nick, you and Ashley, I would love to hear about the process of, was it difficult to get like some of those tongue-twisters, and?

Ashley: Yeah, Sylvia the lead writer basically was like, ‘Ash, you’re gonna need a dictionary for all of the sessions with Emmrich’, it’s like, 'Okay!'. And we get there, you just nailed them all, like 'shduhfejdkjjdhdjdhfjehfjkhehe into the Fade'.

Nick: Well, I don’t know if I nailed them all, that’s very kind of you. But, there was some serious tongue-twisters there, and, but it’s great, it’s great to be in the booth, and to be given a challenge like that, and. Yeah, it’s fantastic, I mean that’s what I love to do, so it was great to be just gifted that.  

Ashley: You’re such a natural nerdy scientist. […]

Nick: It's my inner self.

Ashley: It's your inner secret.

Nick: Yeah.

Lucy: Now I love that, and I think, I think the, I, I’m drawn towards with Emmrich is that like, he loves learning.

Ashley: Yeah!

Lucy: It’s very clear, like, it seems like you’ve really just thrown yourself into this role and the world of Dragon Age. You know, I asked Zach a similar question and it’s like, you’ve been working on this for so long, what’s it like now that people have caught a glimpse of your character, it is just a glimpse, but people are desperate to know more?

Nick: I mean it’s so interesting that this character has kind of caught fire a little because, when I did it I thought ‘okay, well everyone else is like so sexy and like, it’s just amazing, and I’ll just be this kind of professorial kinda guy chatting in the background, having fun, you know, dealing with death, and you know, on the side’, and suddenly it became this thing of like, no, this is actually really interesting. And I think people have found it interesting, and I love that! I love that you guys have also found it as interesting as I have as because, it’s, it's a fantastic character, he’s a fantastic character, honestly.

Lucy: I mean, Ashley, working with Nick, any other highlights to share about your time in the booth, or?

Ashley: Oh man, every, Nick is the most consistent person I’ve ever met in the booth – or in his garage.

Nick: Yeah.

Ashley: Recording booth, he’s really like [a hippy in art?], so I, so it’s kinda trippy, seeing you again in person and knowing what your character looks like.

Nick: Yeah.

Ashley: But yeah, you’ve just been so consistent with Emmrich and bringing this grounded-ness, and I’ve learned so much working with you, and. Yeah, now, you tell me, what, what good really looks like.

Nick: Oh wow, thank you, thank you. Appreciate that.

Lucy: I mean obviously, there’s Manfred too.

Nick: [gasp!]

Lucy: Played by Matt Mercer. What was it like kind’ve having another character to [...] bounce off of?

Nick: Oh man! I mean that is such a hard question because Matt and I have never met.

Ashley: Yeah.

Nick: And we worked completely separately, and. I mean I know that the rapport is really great, but it’s in the ether, I mean it is just, the magic that these guys create, telling us how to respond, how to do that, but it’s, I can’t wait to meet Matt.

Ashley: We recorded, basically before Manfred.

Nick: Right.

Ashley: All of before Manfred.

Nick: Right.

Ashley: And so Manfred got to play off of your straight delivery -

Nick: OH he did? I did not know that. Oh man!

Ashley: I know!

Nick: He got the easy part!

Ashley: Yeah, totally! So you set him up, just to knock it out of the park –

Nick: Right!

Lucy: Okay, so you got to set the tone. You get [...]

Ashley: Yeah, yeah […]

Nick: Right right right right. I set the tone!

Lucy: And, finally. Last but certainly not least, Ali Hillis returning as Scout Harding. Please [indicates for applause]. Now, I’m so excited because, she’s one of my favorite Dragon Age characters period and it looks like we’ll be seeing a lot more of her. But what has she been up to, John, between Inquisition and The Veilguard?

John: So I mean, if you’ve read the comics, you know that Scout Harding has been working with Varric to track down Solas. So she has been on his tail for quite some time. The game starts just as they finally - tracked him down, figured out where he is, but she’s been working with the remnants of the Inquisition, working with Varric, and then also working with Rook and Neve. Again, if you read the comics, you know that Harding has met Neve, they have a […] relationship before the events of the game. But yeah, she is dedicated to taking someone who used to be a friend, someone she considered, you know, even if they weren’t close, because Harding wasn’t part of the Inquisitor’s core companions, somebody she knew, somebody who treated her with some amount of respect, and knowing what he’s up to now, knowing she has to stop him, so.

Lucy: She was in the core Inquisitor’s, of my heart, so.

John: That’s right, well, I mean, she had the light romance, so.

Lucy: I tried to flirt with her every time. Never went anywhere. Ali, you are no stranger to playing beloved BioWare characters, obviously, Doctor Liara T’Soni.

Ali: [in her Liara voice] It is very nice to see you all today.

Lucy: What’s it like to be returning as Lace Harding?

Ali: First of all, it was a complete surprise. I don’t know if it was for you guys, but it was for me. So I was so excited when I got that call, because I had no idea it was coming. And after recording the last Dragon Age, and going to cons, much like this one, and having the line in front of me and all my pictures spread out, and every few people, someone would come up and say, well, ‘Where’s your Scout Harding photo?’ I was like, ‘oh, I didn’t bring one! Like. I didn’t realize! Okay!’ So I started getting more into the idea that this was a really beloved character, and I didn’t realize! And she was so much fun to create because BioWare gives us so much freedom as actors, it’s such a collaborative effort, both with Liara as well as Scout, I remember getting in the studio for the very first time to record these characters. I do a lot of voiceover, I do a lot of amazing games, I don’t always remember the very first day in the studio with a project, and I do for both of these projects. Because they were so poignant in my life, because it was, it was, a group of people coming together, they had already obviously conceptualized these characters. There was art, there was writing, brilliant writing that we are only so lucky to chew on in these voiceover sessions with such expert direction. The material that we are given to work with, only, just blasts us off this planet, in the acting world. But, just, knowing that when we went in to create Scout Harding to begin with, and one of the ideas I remember us talking about was, like, ‘well, I wonder if she’s kind of a character whom, when she talks, maybe she draws in the dirt with her toe?’ You know, coming up with these little tiny bits of yumminess to create a character and build it, the fact that they give us that honor to work with them on it, you know, is incredible. So when I heard that she was coming back, I was thrilled from the inside out, because I felt a part of this whole thing, so thank you, guys, for bringing her back. You! [to the audience] You! [to BioWare devs' direction] Thank you.

Lucy: I think I can speak for all of us when I say, we are thrilled.

Ashley: Yeah.

Lucy: You know, a lot has changed in the time since Dragon Age: Inquisition. I mean, what, how, for you has the experience of recording changed, like, technology-wise? Obviously, a little thing happened in 2020 we don’t have to talk about, but how has it changed for you?

Ali: Yeah, and speaking of that little thing that we’re not supposed to talk about, but the way that this company pivoted and, I mean, we were working on something, we had a project in the works, and somehow, every single person had to deal with this big thing in the world that we’re not talking about -

Lucy: We can talk about it.

Ali: - and somehow produce a game! So when you guys play this, just know that the amount of effort that went into this one, you know, maybe exceeds every game I’ve ever worked on because, we had to, everyone had to pivot, you know, suddenly we’re working from our garages – me too – and usually we’re wearing pants. And, and, you know, when I worked on past games with BioWare, everybody was in Edmonton, pretty much, and then everyone just kinda dispersed and I didn’t know where anybody was, and Ash was working out of her house all the time. It was incredible because we just did it, we pivoted, like all of you did, like all of us did, and we all came together and we made it happen and I was really really proud of that. Anyway, I know we weren’t supposed to talk about it, but it was magical, and powerful, and incredible. And I’m so sorry, back to the original question.

Lucy: No, I mean, how has the process changed for you?

Ali: The process has changed for me? I got to do p-cap! I got to be her! I got to physicalize, they gave me that, I got to physicalize her this time, which I didn’t get to do last time and I did not get to do in Mass Effect. And I really had a great time with it! Because, just like these guys have all talked about, we all come from different acting and theater backgrounds, I think Ash as well, and different types of performance, and it was cool to get on the volume - the p-cap stage -because, it’s like a theater.

Ashley: Yeah.

Ali: You have freedom! It’s better than a theater because you can turn around backwards and talk like this and everybody still knows what’s going on, so, it’s freedom in acting and we get to really bring the character to life outside of being behind the microphone and envisioning all of it, we actually get to perform. So that was one big difference for me in this game particularly. That, and the, doing it from my home sometimes in voiceover, or studio, it was, we kinda just, went with the flow.

Lucy: Is it easy to come back to a character that you kinda know inside out, or is it kind of like a mental block about it because you’re returning to something, or is it easier to come up with something new to […] What was it like getting back into the shoes of Harding?

Ali: That’s a really good question because it had been a minute. I mean, I’m so excited this game is releasing, how about you? Woo! You know what, with her, again, just kind of like Liara, because we came about this character so organically, I did ask, I remember asking to hear voice-bytes, I just wanna make sure we were in the same ballpark. But also, you know, there’s been an evolution.

Ashley: Yeah, you’ve seen some shit.

Ali: Yeah. We can’t really talk about it, you guys’ll have to find out for yourselves. But there’s been an evolution, so.

Ashley: Yeah.

Ali: So, yeah, it’s, it's, I can’t really say anything else about it without giving stuff away.

Ashley: She comes back with such, like, a veteran voice, y'know?

Lucy: Yeah, I kinda noticed that, like, she’s, she’s got a little bit more of an edge to her.

Ashley: Yeah.

Ali: Yes.

John: Well, she’s been chasing Solas for almost a decade, so.

Ali: And I love that, that is an amazing relationship that you guys created. And then I’ll stop talking about that. Damn!

John: No more!

Ali: I’m so excited!

John: I know!

Ali: I defer to these guys!

Lucy: I mean, question, kind’ve for all of you. We kind’ve touched on it a little bit, the challenges, and you know, the fact that the game is almost here, Fall 2024. I’d love to know, down the line, and just, you know, what’s been kind’ve your guiding light for all of you on this project?

John: I mean for me, it’s always been about, Dragon Age has always been about the people. I mean, the companions, the villains, the allies you make along the way. And for us, making sure that that stayed central, that that was still our guiding light. We really wanted to focus the game, the story, the gameplay, always around yourself as a character, but also the other characters in the world, not just, again, how they relate to you, but also, having these relationships, having this idea of this world that exists, with people that exist, not just as kind’ve a theme park for the player character to go through. But they have lives, and they have internality, like they’ve got an internal life of their own, that cause them to act in ways that may not always be predictable, but is always fascinating, and makes them feel real, even if you’re only getting a few dozen lines, they feel like real people.

Lucy[?]: Yeah.

Ashley: Yeah. I think that was my guiding light, like, I’m, have to find logic in these, you know, over hundred thousand lines in the story and over 700 unique characters you can meet. And I, in this fantasy world, I, we’re all still looking for the truth. What is the truth? How can we ground this? Do I believe it? Do you believe it? Are we in it? And that was always my North star. And, you know, often times I’m in the booth, and sometimes I’ll just, ‘I don’t buy it, I don’t buy it’, or, and, so, it was my job to be the gatekeeper, I felt, in the booth, to make sure, that I buy it, so you will all buy it.

Zach: I made the mistake, before we started shooting, of checking out the Reddit of Dragon Age. Not a good idea. It was a bad idea. But what I did, what struck me is that these people, these fans, have the same passion for this game that I have had for a hundred fantasy worlds. You know, places where I’ve gone into and discovered different parts of myself through. through, following these stories. And so I felt an, I felt so, it was so incumbent upon me to put as much effort as I could into this game. And I really do feel like the fans inspired me to pour my heart and soul into this, and I just cannot wait for you guys to play it, I really cannot.

Lucy: Jessica, what about you?

Jessica: I would say for me it was the dialogue, honestly. I loved the writing, Brianne was my writer, and Ashley, and John, and she’s right, like it’s, you gotta go deeper, and like we’re trying to find it, and we’re trying to find it together, and sometimes we’re not there, and sometimes we have to come back to it, you know, there was, I could tell there was such an evolution in my work, and part of that was because I just kind’ve gave it over to the writing. And whenever I did get to play off the other actors, you know, sometimes they’ll have, you can play in with their lines, and that was just such a joy, and I got to like discover other little parts of the game that I had no idea about, you know, because we’re doing it in isolation. So that was kind’ve the joy for me, and just honestly trusting, trusting the team and Ashley and John, so.

Lucy: Nick?

Nick: Yeah, I mean I’d have to say narrative as well, I think what the writers have done on this show, you don’t get in other games, you just don’t. You don’t get the level of, the depth of character. And character makes story. And that is what they focused on here. And I just kept coming back into that booth going, ‘I’ve never, I’ve never, experienced this before’. And just one last thing as well, I think the fact that we were separate, and I’m only just sort’ve putting this together now, the fact that we didn’t see each other, the fact that we didn’t know each other, has created a kind of magic that, I think is extraordinary. You can’t see somebody and you have to listen in the dark for cues and signals, and you have to put it together. That, that is magical. And I think, out of the chaos of 2020, 2021, 2022, which was exactly when we were recording and trying to figure this out, that’s when the magic came together, that’s, and I think we all feel that here, and I really hope you guys do too.

Lucy: Ali?

Ali: Well I feel like they’ve kinda covered it. I was gonna speak to kinda like what John said. One thing I really like about this game particularly, and I think you guys will find this as well, is you really find yourself in it.

Ashley: Yeah.

Ali: And the relationships, not only with the player and the people you bring along, but the team with each other, it’s just, it’s so well-written, the relationships are so conditioned that you really get lost in the moment. And I love when I’m at a con signing somewhere and someone comes to the table and says, you know, ‘this is a game that took me away from something I was dealing with in my real life, and I’m so grateful for it’, and I feel like, this is one of those games. This is gonna take you into a world that’s gonna blow your mind. And, I was just so honored to be a part of this group, again, again, I’m just gonna echo everything everybody said. But when I would hear their voices in my cans, in my headset, and I don’t get to see their faces, there is something so specific and so intimate about that experience, when you’re not seeing each other, and you’re just hearing, they have this amazing system where we get to hear each other. Whoever’s recorded first is played, if I’m having a conversation with these guys, if they’ve recorded first, I get to hear them and talk back. Acting is reacting. So it’s really nice that I actually get to react honestly off of these guys with expert guidance. So, I was really appreciative that we’ve conditioned these relationships in a fantasy land and also in real life, and I think you guys will feel that when you play.

Lucy: Now we do have time for Q&A. I'm gonna ask the panel another question, but if you wanna start lining up, we have, people are jumping to their feet already, this is great. We have a microphone right here. Before we go to Q&A, I suppose, what's the big, the biggest takeaway you want when people actually get to play later this year?

John: For me, honestly, it's just, how much this project has just been a team effort in a way that, everyone is working collaboratively with each other, everyone is bouncing off each other. Everyone was talking earlier about the writing, but I think what's fascinating for [...] has been so awesome to see is, the actors also shaping these characters as we built them. Seeing, like, how, Nick delivers a line, how Zach delivers a line, how Jessica delivers a line, how, and then, bouncing off that and then forming the character, shaping the character, so. We realize, okay, so, Ali has this, you know, has this, says things in a very specific way. Maybe we, let's re-write a few things, let's really lean into this, you know, what she brings to the character, and it's just. That's true across the entire team. It's not just the actor, it's not just the writer, but everybody who has worked on it, has a little piece of themselves in it. And to me there's just this excitement that that brings, and just this amazing passion that you can see in everything that's been built in this game.

Ali: It's so cool, I was gonna say, when we were recording, and I know we gotta get these questions, when we were recording during the pandemic and we were at home, I didn't realize sometimes that on the Zoom call I'd only see Ashley's face, or sometimes, you know, whatever, whatever she puts up. And then suddenly I'd have a question, 'hey, so in this line, this and this?', suddenly, like, John, or somebody else would just pop in, and talk about the line, so, we were always collaborating, it was just amazing, I was very grateful to have you guys ever-present.

John: Thank you.

Lucy: Alright. Shall we go to our first question? We all ready?

[?]: Yeah.

Lucy: Alright.

Audience member: Hello. [...] fan of Dragon Age since Origins. Oh, I must say, I am very disappointed with this panel. You've failed to mention a very important part of the game! The factions!

John: Mmm!

Audience member: So I would like to know, what can you tell me about them, and, can you join them, or do you just interact with them?

John: So, you start the game, you get to choose which background you go with. Each one is tied to one of the major factions. But one of our principles from the start was the concept of 'characters not causes'. So we didn't wanna just give you, 'here's the Grey Wardens, they're just kinda this group that exists in the world', we wanted to attach characters to them. So I can speak to the Grey Wardens in particular, anyone who's read comics and any of our short stories know Evka and Antoine, they kind've represent your connection to that faction. And you can work with them throughout the story, you can help them out. And decide how much you want to spend time with them. But each one of them [...] represents these important forces in the world that you need to get on your side if you're gonna stop the end of the world, so.

Audience member: Looks good.

Lucy: I was gonna say, Zach, you've done, you've done your research, so how exciting was it for you to kind've see and hear all these factions coming into play?

Zach: What, I'm sorry, can you repeat the question?

Lucy: You did all your research, so.

Zach: Oh, yeah.

Lucy: How exciting was it for you to hear about these factions and then hearing about how they'll come into play in the game?

Zach: Well, I don't think they kept my voice for Antoine, but I did my best French accent, I think it was pretty painful for everybody else on set, I really did. Oh yeah, the Grey Wardens are a barrel of laughs, those guys, they're absolutely wonderful. Well, yeah, so I had to play a bunch of characters, so I had to really steep myself in the understanding that, okay, the Grey Wardens go a lot, go through a lot, actually, doing what they do. They make a pretty intense bond in order to carry out exactly what they do. So, I tried to bring that as best I can to the physicality when I did do the motion capture and whatnot, but I cannot wait to see how it plays out in the game.

Lucy: Next question.

Audience member: Hello, I've also been a fan of Dragon Age since Origins. So, I've noticed in pretty much all of the games, there's a lot of influence from classical fantasy and mythology. So I was wondering, general question for the whole panel, what was your first exposure to fantasy or mythological storytelling, and do you use any of that in your voice-acting?

John: Hm. I can speak to mine but I can't speak to the voice-acting part, obviously. I mean I read Lord of the Rings at a very young age, and everything that you read that you, any piece of art that you enjoy, engage with, it's obviously gonna have an influence on yourself and also what you do.

Ashley: Yeah, there's a [depth?], in it, you know, to the fantasy world, that acting, it's kind of timeless, right? It can be anything, anywhere, and I feel like when we were doing the voices, we, you know, we didn't want it to be in 2020 or 2024 or whatever, so I think that's how I was most influenced, is, what's the most universal sound or a language, or a mixture of those, that can feel like nobody knows what it is?

Zach: I mean I was obsessed with, I think it's Theseus and the Minotaur, that story, when I was young. Did I just put my foot, I think it's Theseus, it could be Perseus, I can never remember okay?

Audience member: It's Theseus.

Zach: It's Theseus? My man! Thank you. I appreciate it. But I love the symbolism in those types of myths, right? Like, the Minotaur is this half-man, half-beast, who sits in the middle of the labyrinth, and the labyrinth is, of course, your mind, and you are also the Minotaur, and you are also Theseus. But so, getting to see the symbolism that's represented in Dragon Age, and how deep the meaning is, like that, those the stories I've always wanted to tell, ever since I was young, so I, it was a real honor to get to bring this to life.

Jessica: I also, my first, was Lord of the Rings, but I also was very interested in Greek mythology growing up. And, yeah, I think it's that, as Zach said, the symbolism, that you see, and like, I think you really see that in Dragon Age, and I know you know, right, you all, like, know the lore, and go looking for things, and that's really exciting to me. And then, just, yeah, the limitless possibility, right? You're not limited to what people look like, or whether you're human, I don't know, you know what I'm saying, like, that can really can take your mind and the world and the depth of the world anywhere and everywhere. And that's so exciting.

Nick: Yeah, I mean, for me it was The Hobbit, as well, my mom read me The Hobbit, and I would go, 'stop, stop!' And I would run to her closet and put on a pair of her boots, these shiny boots, and wear a cape, and I would go 'okay, okay, carry on' [...], you know, just, I would just, I would just be so in it. And then I'd go like, 'stop, stop, I'm gonna read that bit, I'm gonna read that bit'. And, you know, it was just, it absolutely informed why I'm sitting here today.

Ali: I wish I had better answers. Talking about, instead of yesteryear, talking about recently, I was travelling, and we were in Greece, and I feel like I saw Dragon Age everywhere. Just like an inspiration to travel and look back and, I'm now infatuated with castles. So, actually, it's brought me into this world, instead of me discovering it, you know, a long time ago, this has what's really brought me here.

[?]: Thank you very much.

[?]: Thank you.

Lucy: Thank you for your question.

Audience member: Hello, thank you for answering questions. For the new companions, if you could romance, from your companion's perspective, which older companion would you romance?

Ali: This could get embarrassing!

Zach: I kinda have a thing for The Iron Bull. Yeah, I saw him for the first time when I was looking up some answer to some question I had when I was reading the books, and I was like, 'oh, that awakened something inside of me! Huh! Look at that!' - You guys are gonna leave me hanging after I said that I want to have sex with The Iron Bull?

Jessica: [...] Um, I, I, don't know, honestly, I'm overwhelmed by that question, so [...]

Nick: I guess I'm a little overwhelmed by that question too. I have a particular fondness for Manfred, but, you know that's, that's a very particular relationship. I would say, like, I think what you've done with Solas is really sexy [...]

Zach: Dorian is really cute too. Yeah. [...] the mustache. Dig that guy.

Ali: Well, he's sitting right next to me, so this is a little embarrassing, but every time I heard Emmrich in my cans. Just, woooo. I might be on-board with all of the fans out there for Emmrich. If you'll have me, if you'll have me.

[?]: Thank you.

Panel: Thank you.

Audience member: So, the first game I played was Inquisition, and, this is not a knock, but, because, my reference would be Mass Effect, and I love that series. For Mass Effect 1 to Mass Effect 3, it seems the games was more streamlined. I'm getting the same feel from Inquisition to this one. Does that, what you can expect from gameplay-wise?

John: I mean, I don't think there's any, I don't think it's streamlined, it's. Again, each Dragon Age has been fundamentally different in its gameplay. We've tried things, seeing what works, seeing what didn't. In the case of The Veilguard, just like the other games, you wanna keep that tactical, strategic complexity and make that the centerpiece. And each one we focused on a little bit differently. In the case of this one, I think our skills in particular are some of the best we've done. There's some exciting combinations you do there, so.

Audience member: Thank you so much.

John: No worries.

[?]: Okay. There we are, okay.

Audience member: I was wondering what your favorite aspect was of the character you voiced?

Lucy: Ali, should we start with you this time?

Ali: I mean, so many layers, man, we're talking BioWare characters here! I think some of my favorite things about Lace Harding are the little things. Like, she loves her mom, you know, she loves to write letters home, she's always talking about her mama's soup and stuff like that. I love that relationship. She likes plants, and raising plants, which is inspirational, since I kill them. But just the texture they add to the characters, that's, in general, but for me, yeah, it's those little things that really kinda give me a bunch of stuff to work with in my brain, for bringing these characters to life.

Zach: I love the fact that Lucanis is a good cook. I just imagine him finishing a job and then going home, and, you know, cooking him a meal to kind've calm himself down, but with like the same knife he just used to murder somebody. He cleaned it of course, he cleaned it, but at the same time [...] -

Ali: I recommend my mama's soup.

Jessica: I really enjoyed, we sort've worked to bring, like, a noir element to Neve, and her being a private investigator, and so I really enjoyed leaning into that. And then she's just so dry, you know, like, things really mean a lot to her, but she's not necessarily gonna let you know that, you know what I mean? You have to kind've, like, discover that underneath. And, so I, I related to that, and I love that about her.

Ali: I was gonna say, 'I don't know anyone like that'.

Nick: I loved the, the fact that the writers just took Emmrich and explored the whole idea of death. The whole idea of necromancing, and, I really responded to that, I got into that, and bringing kindness into it, I know that sounds crazy, but it's to not have this idea that death is vulgar or kind've to be, something to be terrified about, but something to actually engage with on so many levels. I just thought the fact that the writers had the courage to do that in a game like this, I thought, it just blew my mind.

[?]: Thank you for the question.

Lucy: I think we have time for a couple more quick ones.

Audience member: Hi, okay, so first of all. Okay, hi, again. So, first of all, my dad just died, so [...]

[?]: Oh, I'm sorry.

Audience member: [...] Thank you. [...] So, [...] what you said about your take on Emmrich, really, really, I appreciated that. So, my question, to, I guess, John, would be, so, lore-wise, mechanically, not like story-telling-wise for the lore, how do you decide what lore goes in what games? Like, just, okay, so like, what decides what goes in Dragon Age 3, what goes in Dragon Age 4, what goes in Dragon Age 90-bajillion? Not from like a story perspective, right, but from, like a, what do we want to do, right?

John: Mhm. I mean it really does come down to, each one, as we build, it's, it's hard to say it as [...] something that we come [...], it's like, 'okay, we're gonna do it this way, this way, this way', mechanically, but, we kind've, we always know the base lore of the franchise, of the IP, and as we start to build the story, we start to see these opportunities to again, [...] speaking mechanically, bring certain elements in that make the most sense with the characters we're building and the story we're telling. We try not to overwhelm by saying a bunch, having a bunch of lore included that's not necessarily critical to the understanding of the story, but we always wanna expand the universe, and expand the IP, so.

Audience member: Thank you.

John: You're welcome.

Ali: And, can we please have a Dragon Age 90-bajillion?

John: I'd like that.

Ali[?]: That'd be amazing.

Audience member: Hi, I'm Matt. I've been a fan of Dragon Age since, actually, The Stolen Throne book, before I even knew there was like a game. And my question was, for the voice actors, one of my favorite things is the party banter. Was there any, like, lines of party banter that you recorded that you can say that just made you just, like, laugh, 'cause some of the party banter is pretty hilarious. Like, is there a certain thing that just sticks in your mind, whether you can say what it is, or just who it was with, like, so I can be on the lookout for it?

Ashley: I have one, it's so not appropriate. Do I have permission to say it?

Ali: That's what I was gonna say.

Zach: Yeah, say it.

Ashley: Listen for "hand-to-bone combat".

Lucy: I mean, do we end it there?

Ali[?]: And, scene.

Lucy: Well thank you so much everyone for coming to the panel. Thank you [...] Fall 2024.

[panel ends]

--

[source: DA:TV ‘Meet The Companions’ panel @ SDCC. BioWare have said that they are going to share the recording of the panel at a later date].

[☕ found this post or blog interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

[bengiyo]

Your Sky: It Seems I Wanted a 2gether Retread

I watched this on a whim yesterday evening and enjoyed it immensely. Not to be the Boss Baby tweet, but I enjoyed how this show set up some of the same parameters as 2gether without making key characters unlikable, or relying on mean humor.

Right off the bat they calibrated the Teerak character well. He's essentially an adorable younger brother all the time. He's clearly coddled, and requires a lot of supervision. However, they made sure to confirm that he's actually an extremely kind character, and that most of his adventures result from him maybe going too far to complete an act of kindness. This character has real potential to be annoying, and they're doing a great job with the line.

Additionally, they've given Teerak a great supporting cast around him. I liked the teamwork dynamics between Lee, Joy, and Type. I liked seeing them fulfill different roles in the group, and I'm excited to get to know them more. Teerak's relationship with Babe is also compelling; I'm excited to see what we get from a caring big sister. I especially loved their meeting the laundromat owner. I hope we see more of her, and that they continue the trend of introducing every new character with a beauty zoom.

Thomas Teetut is also doing a great job with Muenfah. He's playing this character so differently from Gun in The Middleman's Love that I didn't even recognize him right away.

Unlike with Sarawat (2gether), they didn't withhold this character's affection for Teerak for multiple episodes. Like Sarawat, they've gone for cool, aloof, and disinterested in women. I'm curious to learn how long he's had this crush, why he hasn't said anything about it, and why his brother (Lee) is keeping the confidence about it.

I also want to know whose ass he kicked years ago that created this reputation about him being leader of a gang. It's intriguing because we watched multiple people running interference on Oh's pursuit of Teerak. I was wondering at first if Teerak needed to properly reject this man, but based on Oh stealing the outdoor reservation at this restaurant, drugging Teerak's friends, and trying to fight Muenfah, I really don't like this man. They did a great job building to the reveal that Oh ain't shit. They made me feel bad for a Mike character at first, and then validated why I instinctively do not like that man's characters.

I really like the impetus for the fake dating in this one. I like that Muenfah pulled Teerak out of a dangerous situation, and also that a drunk Teerak created a major misunderstanding online from people stalking (please stop filming people in public). It's so much better than we know Muenfah has feelings for Teerak already, and has been protective of him. I'm excited to see how Teerak grows into a shared affection, and how the veneer of fake dating complicates the development of their feelings.

Also, this show is beautiful. Sarawut Chuparkpanich shows always look great. However, every single person linked on the crew has been part of projects that I think showed real potential before flopping badly before even the midpoint. I don't want to get my hopes up too much because of the track record, but damn did I really like this first episode. This is the most engaged with initial characterization I've been with a Thai BL in months, so I hope this one works out. I am still fond of 2gether, despite the missteps of that show, so I'd like to have a better version of it.

I'll pick this up as a regular watch and check in after a few weeks to let you know how I'm feeling about it. Thank you to the gifmakers!

[flanaganfilm]

howdy!! do you rewatch your own work? if so, how often? im wondering if it has the same "artist just sees faults with what they create" thing, or if youre able to appreciate past projects the way they deserve

I don't, typically... usually, by the time we're finished with post production, I've seen the thing so many times that I'm thrilled to stop watching it. I'm either sick of it, or just feeling like it doesn't belong to me anymore. There are other reasons, too - Hill House was a traumatic production for me, for example, I have a lot of complicated emotions woven into it, so I haven't felt ready to rewatch that one since before it aired. Maybe in a few more years.

Somewhat recently, I've revisited a few of the older movies with my eldest son, who is 13 now. He's basically as old as my career itself. We've watched Oculus, Hush, The Midnight Club (which he LOVED, proving it worked for our target audience) and Ouija: OOE together, and each of those screenings was a really cool experience. His reactions and questions were really fascinating, and I felt like I was able to see those movies anew through his eyes. That's the closest I've come to feeling like I was really seeing them, and that's only because so much time has gone by for those. I watched the Director's Cut of Doctor Sleep a few years back at the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park Colorado. It was part of a live NoSleep Podcast event, and that was the first time I'd seen that movie since it was released. It was also the first and only time I'd ever seen the Director's Cut with an audience. That was a really special screening and it meant a lot to me.

I haven't yet had the guts to revisit any of the TV series other than Midnight Club. As my kids get older, I'm sure I'll watch them all with them. The one I'm most excited to see is Midnight Mass, which remains my favorite of the shows. I haven't seen it since before it came out - I remember the last day of post on that show, watching down each episode with final mix and color. That's a series I wish I could actually watch like a viewer at home, and while I'll never truly be able to do that, I look forward to looking at it with some real distance.

There are a few of the older projects I'd be curious to watch now. I wonder how Absentia holds up - I was such a baby when we made that movie, and it's been so long. I imagine I could watch that today and have a really trippy experience. I also haven't revisited Before I Wake in a very long time, and I always really loved that script. The movie was a rough road, and my feelings were mixed by the time it finally found its finish line (Relativity Media really beat that one up), but that could also be a really interesting viewing experience at this stage of my career.

But generally, each of these movies is a journey, and once the journey is over it's tough to ever really go back. There's little point, and moving forward feels like a matter of survival. The "finished product" is only the tip of a large, deep, labyrinthian iceberg for me. It's impossible to only see what's on the surface, no matter how hard I try.

(Interesting side-note: The only exception I've found to this rule is The Life of Chuck. We just finished post production on the movie, and I've watched it dozens and dozens of times now - but I've never grown tired of it, not even a little bit. That movie is something special, and I am eager to watch it again - and again - and again. I don't know that I'll ever want distance from that one; in fact, watching it brings me a sense of joy, comfort, and safety.)

[idolomantises]

Are there any new indie shows you’re looking forward to or have caught your interest recently?

Admittedly, not really. There was some projects I was interested in and even showed some financial support but it never went through. LS Mark's recent cartoon pilot showed a lot of promise, but it also had a lot of issues that I hope Mark smooths over. Horizonauts also looks promising but I'm not very interested in it, this one is just personal though i think it has some great character designs.

If I have one major issue with Indie animation its that a lot of shows kind of feel a bit... too self indulgent. A lot of indie shows feel a bit too derivative of other works, even more promising ones. I'm also just not very impressed by a lot of the character writing and dialogue. I can't be too hard on these creators because I know many of them are not professional writers but I think i'm seeing one too many indie shows that have "lol funny gen z humor" and i wish we could get shows that felt a bit... different? I don't need something overly serious but shows like Lackadaisy, Human's B Gone, Tales of Alethrion and Monkey Wrench are my personal favorites because they feel very fleshed out with some great writing and dialogue (hell TOA has no dialogue and its still peak).

In fact, its actually kind of surprising to me that a lot of shows are pretty lacking in queer characters. Despite my many, MANY grievances with helluva boss and hazbin hotel, i do appreciate it when a creator wants to make their show very queer and i'm honestly just kind of surprised it continues to be one of the few indie productions with an explicitly queer cast. Obviously though, having queer characters that doesn't mean quality and there's a ton of shows i love with 0 queer characters. i guess its just more surprising when i see an indie show either avoid adding a queer character or make it subtext, when its not really necessary for shows that wont risk censorship (but i also wouldn't want it too in my face of course).

And this is just a personal thing but, so many shows have humans as protagonists and i wanna see more weird guys.

I'm excited for the state of indie animation but i would love more variety! I could care less about amazing animation if the writing still isn't great.

[persphonesorchid]

Connotations Of Sin - JHS (m)

Summary: At your lowest, you’ve been living on the streets for the past couple of months. When you decide to leave your only safe haven and find yourself lost in a mysterious fog, an angel stretches out a hand of mercy. Little do you know, black taints his once alabaster wings.

Genre: Fallen Angel Au | Angst, fluff, smut (mdni), horror (V lowkey, I swear)

Word Count: 30k

Masterlist

Please read these warnings carefully!!

Warnings: Homelessness, Kidnapping (? is it though??), Suicidal ideation, referenced and described abuse and murder of a child. Hoseok is his own warning. Mc gets drugged and then she gets sick... A bit of religious babble, mc has nightmares (one of which is actually kinda bad...), she almost dies at one point. Hoseok likes playing mind games, but they aren't serious (Honestly debatable...). Implied gang activity and violence. Hoseok contradicts himself a lot, he's really confusing. Smut: oral ( m and f receiving) soft dom Hoseok, i think Hoseok has an oral fixation (or is it ME, the author?????) unprotected sex.

Notes: Phew, welcome!! SO, it's finally here!!! I'm so excited to share this project with you alll! It was such a big project for me, and so much time and effort went into it. Believe it or not, this started out as a smut piece and it had nothing going for it at all. If you've been following me for a while, you'd remember that back in 2021 i posted a teaser for something similar. Tbh back then probably wasn't the right time to post such a thing lmao, i for certain wasn't ready to write it and it wouldn't have been written in the way it was meant to with my writing style back then. It's been a long journey of understanding the characters portrayed here, and a lot of work to get them right. Very big shoutout to @hwaslayer who's - as always - been there with me from the very beginning and has been the biggest help and motivator, please look out for her Ateez's Seonghwa fic that shares this universe!! I won't keep you any longer, but please be sure to leave feedback, a lot of effort went into this project and i'd love to hear what you think and answer any questions! Happy reading!!!

“You sure you don’t wanna stay here with me dearie? I know it ain’t much, but it’s better than being out in the elements.” Abigail takes your hands in hers, hands that – much like yours – are dirt stained and ruddy, but bring you comfort that you wouldn’t find elsewhere. Abigail – or Toothy as everyone else calls her – is a frail woman with wispy auburn hair and a gap tooth smile. Her hair had gone white in some places, the crows’ feet at her eyes can barely help you guess her age. Her eyes are blue and dull but still regard you warmly like she did when she’d found you wandering along the fourth avenue weeks or so ago.

The space where she stays isn’t much; a nook in an alleyway between two rundown buildings that people don’t bother to go into. She’d tried her best to make it into a space that’s comfortable enough, the roof made of termite bitten sheets of ply that’s at least a square and a half wide. An old, mildew ridden tarp thrown over it and held down by a couple pieces of rubble from the building across makes up the walls that offer shelter from cold wind and rain and as much privacy you could get out here. The floor made of giant trash bags Abigail had swindled from some place or another, covered with old sheets that’s definitely seen better days. Even though the sheets had long lost their softness and leave you itching, they kept your butt off the cold concrete.

You’re going to miss the stories she’d tell. You’d lay on the floor, the longest part of the tarp folded over the top, and stare up at the strip of night sky between the buildings, twinkling with the bit of stars you can see and listen.

She’d tell you of her life before she fell to rock bottom, how grand everything was. How, many years ago, she’d won the lottery by a stroke of luck, only to have it turn sour when her fiancé gambled it all away and she lost everything. She never did tell you what happened to him.

You’d miss walking the couple of miles to the river, armed with pieces of run-down bar soaps and plastic bags with the little clothes you owned in them bundled in your arms. Or the nights when it’s cold, you’d go down to the square with her and look around for things to burn and dump them into the steel barrel to keep warm.

There are days when there’s nothing, and Abigail would distract you from your stomach trying to eat at itself with another one of her stories and old cans filled with steaming boiled rain water. There are days when you’d sit with a full tummy, there’s usually one kind soul out there that takes pity on you both to offer as much as they could.

You’ll be forever grateful for Abigail, with her motherly affection and her warm hands. She never once asked how you ended up here too, she simply offered a hand when you needed it most.

You felt as though you lingered too long... this is the longest you’ve stayed in a place. The company was good, but you feel like there’s just so much you’re robbing Abigail of by staying with her. You know she would strongly disagree; she’d probably whack you with her busted up sneaker and send you to sit in a corner until you’ve apologized. It’s simply how you feel, if you’re not here, Abigail wouldn’t have to share the little of what she gets, you feel terrible enough that she gives you more than she keeps for herself.

“Don’t worry Abigail.” You smile, pulling one hand away to pat hers. Her fingers are bony and long, and lacking the warmth they did earlier in the day. “I don’t stay one place for too long.”

It’s a lie, obviously. You’d rather chew your leg off than go out there alone. Away from the safety this little nook had been for the past month, away from Abigail, who’s cared more about you than anyone has in a while. But you care about her too, enough that you’d leave to make sure that she eats well enough to survive and not give it all to you. She’d be better off.

Abigail narrows her eyes at you, the wrinkles of her face deepening as she frowns. She looks sad, you note, the blue of her eyes dark and stormy, but she says nothing, just squeezes your hands for a while before letting go.

You smile softly, and continue stuffing your clothes into an old backpack Abigail had given you a while back. You fold the dirty ones tight, setting them at the bottom, and the few clean ones you had that still smelled like your last bar soap at the top. You don’t have much, and you’ve gotten used to it – as hard as it was.

When you shouldered your bag and stepped out from under the tarp, Abigail follows, worry on her brow, saying that she’d walk you to the mouth of the alleyway.

“Oh!” She says, turning back to duck under the tarp. You hear the rummaging of her old pot wares, the clanking of the metal before she comes back and holds out a can to you. The label looks worn, peeling off in some places, but you make out the bright red ‘canned peach’ on the side. “I was savin’ this for when we go down to the river, but you’d better have it.”

“Abigail...” You sigh, guilt gnawing at your edges, “I can’t take this.”

Abigail purses her lips, smacking the can into your hand, “Yes, you can. It’ll hold you out for a little while.”

“Then what would you eat?” You outstretch your hand, offering the peaches back to her and she narrows her eyes at you.

“I can manage.” She says testily, and then sighs, softening, “Are you sure you’ll be okay out there?” She takes the can and tucks it into the outside pocket of your bag, “It’ll be rough ya know.”

“I’ll be fine,” You say, and then, you hug her. Truly, you’ll miss her. She pats your back gently, “Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t mention it, we gotta look out for each other out here.” Abigail smiles, pulling away. She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her baggy jeans, something she’d picked up at a donation shelter a couple of days ago. It’s got a few holes and it’s frayed at the ankles but she’d never complain. “If you fall into luck, don’t forget me.”

“Never.”

You both say your goodbyes and you try your best to not cry at the sadness that clings to Abigail’s form as she hobbles back to her little nook. You take a breath and pick a direction to walk in.

You think about going to the river first, to get a little cleaned up before you go looking for somewhere to sleep for the night. You’re already regretting leaving the comfort that Abigail provided. You know she wouldn’t blame you if you turned right around and dragged yourself back. You’ve already made your mind up, though – it’s better this way.

You don’t have a gauge on the time, but the sun’s getting quite low. It streaks the sky in orange and pink, hiding behind a fluffy white cloud as it makes its slow decent. You might be able to make it to the river and back before night falls completely if you hurry. So you walk, and walk, and it’s a long way past the street Abigail first found you, where the city meets a forest edge.

You once asked Abigail why she didn’t live closer to the river, you worry about her most days, taking her frail self through the streets for such a long walk just to get here. She’d told you that even though some of your street dwelling comrades are friendly, most aren’t, and would do the worst to get what they need. It’s too risky to be close to the river where all manner of folk pass to get to it.

You tuck your bag to your front and keep an ear out for anyone that may be in the area. You grimace as the twigs and stones of the forest floor poke at your feet. Your shoes were on their last, they kept your feet warm most days, but they’re biting holes into your last good pair of socks. The trees get sparse the further in you go, and over the tweeting and chittering of the forest critters, there’s the sound of rushing water.

You break out of the trees and stand on the little edge where the forest pauses and the soft wet dirt begins. The river is a bit wild today, rushing through the rocks as it makes its way from wherever it starts. You know there must be a spring somewhere deeper if you follow the river back, but you don’t have the time to as the setting sun makes the forest look darker already. You wouldn’t like to be out here at night.

You slip out of your shoes and socks, wanting to keep them dry and walk down to the bank. Abigail has a little spot between three large boulders where she hides things. The spot is covered with leaves and sticks, and you dig through it to find the old blue bucket. It’s missing it’s handle and turned over to keep things under it.

There’s a new pack of soap powder that’s already been opened, a little square plastic bowl that’s probably seen better days on a dish rack and half of a soap bar. You pull the bucket out of its hiding place, taking just a handful of the soap powder and tossing it into the bucket. You tuck the powder into a corner of the rock with the soap bar on top of it and carry the bucket over to the river.

You rummage through your bag to find the clothes that needed cleaning, and put them in the bucket with the soap. It takes a moment of scooping water from the river and pouring it into the bucket. All the while you’re wondering where Abigail scored the soap powder from. A lot of things are hard to come by, but some people make trades with the little they’ve got. You feel a little guilty as you watch the water and soap soak into your clothes, though you know she wouldn’t mind if its you – you’re the only two that know where she keeps her stuff hidden – but still.

The soap smells sweet, and fresh in a way you haven’t smelt in a while. With the sun long gone behind the trees but still lighting the sky a bit, you wash your clothes as quickly as you can. You throw the soapy water on the bank and not back in the river, and rinse your clothes out just as quick.

There’s no time to wait for them to dry, with the sun being as low as it is and the wind baring its teeth. So you wring them out and pull out the plastic handle bag you keep folded in one of your backpack pockets to stuff them into.

It’s completely dark out once you’ve put the bucket back and covered Abigail’s things again and made your way back out of the forest. You would’ve liked to take a quick wash, but it’s too dark and the water’s too cold now. You’ll come back tomorrow when the sun’s high and hot.

You walk in a different direction than the way you came, looking for the little park that Abigail mentioned once. Its completely dark by the time you get there, your feet aching from the long walk and your mind muddled with thoughts.

You would often remind yourself not to think too hard, as your thoughts would often lead you to a dark place you find difficult to crawl out of. You would often regret not having people close enough to call good friends, maybe then you wouldn’t be out here.

You didn’t have a difficult life; you grew up in a loving home with both parents making sure that you were happy and not too spoilt by the fruits of their labour. You know the value of things and you know well to act like your parents raised you with some sense. Your mother passed when you were ten, and your father remarried when you were sixteen. You couldn’t understand why, your father loved your mother so much and you thought it would just be you and him against the world. You understood that your mother wouldn’t want him to live the rest of his life overshadowed by her passing and forget to continue living. So when he introduced you to the woman he met on a business trip, looking happier than he had in six years, you didn’t have the heart to tell him that something was off.

Your mother had always taught you to see the good in people, to give them the benefit of a doubt. There was no mistaking the thinly veiled disgust in your step mother’s eyes when she would look at you. She was quite young, compared to your father, anyway, and as the years went by, he spoilt her. He gave her whatever she wanted when she wanted it as long as it made her happy and you could only watch from the sidelines.

Your father fell ill, and everything went downhill from there.

When he passed, your world shattered and crumbled, leaving you standing in the rubble grasping at the wisps of it slipping through your fingers. Things were okay, for a while, grieving the loss of your father and trying to move on and step without him. Then the news of his will came not long after he was buried.

Your father left everything for his wife, the house, his money, and as you’d found on the first night you were out here, the savings account your mother had set up for you.

You had nothing.

You’d always kept to yourself growing up, and never let anyone closer than you would allow. You were home-schooled – all the way up to your tertiary education – and had no friends to speak of. Your parents never spoke of their family, all you knew and had were your mother and father.

It’s been a while since then. A good long while. It was hard to adjust to having everything at the tip of your fingers to having it ripped away all at once.

The first week was hard. You’d worked odd jobs here and there to keep your head above the water. Sleeping in a motel every night wasn’t ideal, especially since you had to buy food and every thing else. The little money you had ran out quickly, even when you pawned the possessions you did own it wasn’t enough.

You’ve had time to adjust since then. You met Abigail and things were as okay as they could’ve been considering. You remember, she had been pestering you about why you were pacing around on that bridge when she found you.

The deep rushing water below it had looked inviting – an easy way out. No one would’ve missed you, anyway.

You take a breath in sharply, and it burns. Cold air fills your lungs with little pinpricks as night fully settles. You try not to think about anything more as you walk through the park.

It looks empty, large trees and neat grass fields and cobbled walkways. There are dark metal benches scattered about, a trickle of water you can’t pinpoint coming from somewhere.

You’d just stay here for tonight, and find somewhere you wouldn’t be in trouble to stay at in the morning. You’re pretty sure you’re breaking some law being who you are as you sit down on the bench. It’s uncomfortable, the metal cold and biting, but you’d just have to deal for the night.

You dig through your backpack, pulling out the plastic bag with your damp clothes, a jacket that’s still in good condition and the canned peach Abigail sent you off with.

You spread your clothes out on the back of the bench, and you’re hoping they dry properly even if the air feels a little damp.

With a soft sigh, you lift the circular pin on the lid of the can and pull. The peaches are cut into slices and swimming in a sweet juice, and with some guilt you pick a piece out. It’s sweeter than anything you’ve had in a while, and for a moment you feel like crying.

You feel tears burn your eyes and nose as you chew the fruit, washing it down with a sip of the juice that tastes slightly like the can. It wasn’t long before it was all gone, your fingers sticky with the juice and you stare into the empty can with a frown. You wonder about Abigail and if she’s okay right now.

Setting the can down near the foot of the bench that’s bolted into the cobblestone path, you lay back. The sky is fairly clear, with a little smattering of wispy clouds floating by and stars that twinkle in the distance.

Drifting off slowly, you try to find a comfortable position to sleep in – though there isn’t one with this metal bench. Your jacket thrown over you as a makeshift blanket.

You’re not certain how long you sleep for, but when you wake, its to a tapping on your shoulder. The air is thick with something as you breathe in, and a lot damper than it was when you’d settled.

“Ma’am.” A voice calls, prodding your shoulder again, “Hello, miss?”

You open your eyes and your blood runs cold at the sight of the man in uniform standing above you. You sit up, excuses dancing at the tip of your tongue before you realised you could barely see past your nose.

The officer is holding a flashlight, the beam directed somewhere off to your right. A thick fog had settled while you slept, swirling way past the officer’s head.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t sleep here. This is a private park.” His words aren’t unkind, they come out gentle and a little pitying, as though he regrets having to do his job of keeping the riffraff out. He lets you gather your things, stuffing your still damp clothes back into your bag.

He takes a step back when you stand, “If you need somewhere to stay, there’s a shelter not far from here. Couple blocks that way.” He waves his flashlight behind you, towards the park’s exit, “Can’t miss it.”

You could barely see the guy, much less which way exactly he’s directing you to. You turn, squinting at the way you think he pointed. “Thank you... I’m really sorry about –”

“Don’t worry about it...just keep walking straight and you’ll find it.”

He motions with his flashlight again and you take two steps away before stopping and turning back, “Sorry but...the fog...which way...”

The man is gone, no sign of him having been there in the first place. It’s quiet, not even insects are chirping, you don’t hear any retreating footsteps. You stare at the spot he was just in, but didn’t want to linger lest he comes back and he’s decidedly less kind.

You hike your bag up on your shoulder, squinting to see through the fog as you walk towards the exit. The roads are empty, there’s the soft clicking of the traffic lights and the glow of shop lights and street lamps that make it a little bit easier to see. You still look both ways before walking quickly across the street, keeping straight like the officer told you.

It’s quiet, and honestly, it freaks you out a bit. You don’t think it’s that late, and even so, there should be people out and about. You don’t even think you slept for that long, it couldn’t have been more than an hour. There’s no reason for no one to be around, then again, you don’t know this area very well.

You walk for some time, the sound of your footsteps and your steady breaths your only company. You’re keeping your eyes peeled for any sign of the shelter, staring up at the glowing signs and squinting to see through the fog. You passed a convenience store, a pharmacy and a pet shop, all closed and dark inside. You’ve crossed two roads so far; it shouldn’t be much more walking...unless a couple of blocks have two different meanings between you and the officer.

You stop for a moment, taking a breath that settles heavy and damp in your chest. You look back the way you came, look at the signs of the buildings across the street and the one you’re outside of. You can’t see much more than that unless you keep walking straight.

You’re beginning to wonder if he’d only said so to get you out of the park. You take a couple of steps forward and then stop, looking over your shoulder. Your brows furrow and the hairs on the back of your neck stands on end.

It’s said that the mind always knows when you’re being watched, a sixth sense to be aware when someone is staring at you.

You feel watched.

And it isn’t an ordinary feeling.

It feels off, like some primal switch just flicked up in your brain. Briefly, you think that this is how a bunny feels being cornered by a fox. Your heart suddenly kicks against your ribs and something in the back of your mind screams for you to move.

You press forward, the feeling lingers, and intensifies. You walk as quickly as you can, your once steady breaths loud and harsh in the quietness of the night. You try not to look behind you as your ears pick up on the sound of another pair of footsteps. They match yours, and you’re not too certain if it’s just really your own bouncing off the walls of the buildings. When you stop, they stop, and start back up again when you start.

There’s another sound below it. Something snarls like a dog somewhere in the distance behind you, but, like everything else about this moment in this fog, it sounds wrong. Like it’s coming from a creature that’s trying to mimic the sound of an animal.

You stop dead in your tracks, goosebumps rippling along your skin like a wave from the top of your head and downwards. You take a breath, and with one foot in front of the other – you sprint.

Your footfalls are loud in the quiet, and even through your panic you notice the change of the footsteps that mimicked yours. There’s two more with it that falls in rhythm, like a large beast running on all fours.

It’s running faster than you are, the pounding of its feet against the pavement is double the speed of your own. You feel like your lungs are about to burst, your legs burning, and the damp air becomes fire in your throat when you breathe.

Whatever it is snarls again, and it sounds way closer than it was before. You could almost feel the sound rumble through you, and something hot fans at the back of your neck. You nearly trip, stumbling over your own feet in an attempt to run faster. You round a corner blindly, hoping to throw whatever it is off your trail and smack right into someone.

With your momentum, you’d think that you would send yourself and the person sprawling to the hard concrete. The terrified scream you let out rings in your own ears, high pitched and shrill, as you bounce back, falling in a heap. There’s a sharp twinge in your wrist as you brace, and a stinging in your palm when you just barely managed to catch yourself.

“Shit!” the person exclaims – a man, if the deep timbre of his voice was anything to go by. “Are you okay?!”

The man crouches down and you scramble back, then remember that you crashed into him because you were running from something and the panic comes back.

“I—there’s ... Something’s following me! It chased me all the way here...It’s—”

“Hey, hey...it’s okay...you’re fine.” The man seems to look behind you. You could barely see his face, even with him being as close as he was; the fog just seems to get thicker. “It’s just us out here...”

His voice suddenly seems hesitant, and you wouldn’t blame him if he thought you were crazy.

You breathing is still erratic, heart still trying to pound its way out of your chest.

The man’s hands hover at your shoulders, and there’s worry in his tone when he speaks again. “It’s okay. You’re alright, nothing’s out here but us.”

He takes your hand – the one that’s not holding your weight – and presses it to his chest. You almost jump out of your skin at the contact, but his own heart is steady, beating a slow rhythm against his sternum. “Breathe with me.”

He takes a deep breath in, and you feel his chest expand as his lungs fill, you try your best. Your throat is burning, and every breath feels like fine glass is swirling at the back of your mouth. It takes a moment, but eventually, your breaths match his and the adrenaline seeps out with your every exhale.

Your brain finally registers the throbbing of your wrist and palm, and the ache in your sides.

“There you go.” You can faintly make out the smile that spreads across the man’s face, heart shaped and pretty white teeth. “Good now?”

You nod, just barely, and he releases your hand. There’s a shuffling and the sound of a zipper and then he’s holding a bottle of water out to you. You eye it with some suspicion, and he picks up on it.

“It’s just water, promise.” He says, wiggling the bottle a little. “The seal isn’t cracked or anything.”

You take your weight off your palm, wincing at the hot flash of pain from the movement. You right yourself a little, taking the water from him with your uninjured hand and a soft thanks.

“Oh...here...” he keeps the bottle steady in your hand with a palm under the bottom of it, and the other cracking the seal with a twist. He lifts the bottle to your lips and you take a sip, and then a gulp, “Easy, not too fast.”

The water is cool, and a blessing, you didn’t realise how thirsty you were. When you’ve drank at least half of the bottle, the man puts the cap back on and leaves it in your hold.

“Were you looking for something?” he asks gently, and you nod.

“The homeless shelter...I think I’m lost now, though.”

The man tilts his head, “There aren’t any shelters in this area...you’re on the wrong side of the city if that’s what you were looking for.”

You stare at him for a moment, “...Oh.” The officer really did just say it, then. You’re not sure what to say to the man and you glance around at the street that’s still teeming with the thick fog.

You’re not sure what to say to him, and instead, look around the street for any sign of the shelter even though he’d said there isn’t one.

“I think the fog’s lifting...” The man mumbles. The fog is clearing; it’s easier to see further down the street and the man in front of you. He presses his palms against his knees and stands, looking around for a moment before looking down at you. “There aren’t any shelters around...but...I can help you. If you want, I live a bit that way, and I’ve got an extra room...”

This is a bad idea.

He’s quite tall, on the lean side with long limbs. He’s wearing a long black coat, and his black, suede shoes look just as expensive as the watch that peeks from the end of his sleeve at his wrist. The white tee shirt he wears looks a little billowy, like it would swallow his frame once he takes the coat off. He turns a little and you get to admire the sharp cut of his jaw and the elegant slope of his nose.

“I won’t hurt you or anything. I just want to help.” He says, turning back to you. His eyes are dark, but kind as he offers a hand to help you off the concrete. “I’m Hoseok.”

You take his hand, and there’s nothing in the back of your mind telling you to get away. Nothing in his body language that shows ill intent, and you have to remind yourself that some people are simply kind.

He helps you to your feet and you thank him softly, giving him your name. His smile is soft as he nods, lips turned up slightly at the corners, eyes squinted just a bit.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. It’s a bit late, though, and you’d have to walk a long way to find the shelter...” Hoseok says softly.

You’re still holding his hand, and the warmth of it grounds you. You honestly shouldn’t, really, you’re smart enough to know you shouldn’t follow random men promising kindness. He really looks like a good person, quietly waiting for your answer as he gives you chance to change your mind should you wish.

He doesn’t rush you, and briefly you wonder if he doesn’t have anything else to do. He was clearly going about his business before you tackled him, though that word should be used lightly considering you’re the one who ended up on the ground.

“Okay...thank you.” When you finally speak his smile broadens, showing pretty teeth and still holding your hand, he leads you in the direction he was coming from before. You feel a bit bad, turning his night on its head and probably inconveniencing him.

The fog is lighter now, the air not as thick with it as you follow along. Hoseok didn’t talk much, not once mentioning your pitiful state of dress, or asking any questions. You’re grateful, not many people would go out of their way to open their homes to someone without one.

The place he leads you to looks expensive and you feel out of place. The road winds and twists into a residential area with houses and three storey apartments. There are cars parked in driveways, neatly trimmed grass and hedges, a fence around every tree. Lampposts dot the sidewalk every thirty or so steps, casting their orange glows across every surface.

Across from there, the road veers off into a more commercial area, with fancier housing and shops and a tall, looming hotel. The streets are quiet, shops already closed for the night and you wonder what time it is. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around, save for you and Hoseok making your way towards the hotel.

The doors slide open with a little mechanical whir, and you balk at the sheer size of the lobby alone. Light fixtures hang from the ceiling, bouncing their glows off of shiny surfaces. There are red and black lounge seats along a far wall, coffee tables of black tempered glass between them and the single seated chairs across. On the other side of the lobby is a little open cafe area, closed of course, with comfortable looking chairs tucked under tables.

There are two elevators, one of which you assume to be for staff. The reception area is a counter space of smooth looking white marble, though no one sits behind it.

Hoseok leads you to the elevator, pressing the button to call it down. You’ve let go of his hand now, as you take in the sight of the place. You wonder what anyone would think seeing someone like you in here. With your shabby clothes that’s seen better days, your dirty sneakers and backpack that looks like it’s moments away from just splitting apart.

There’s no one to see you, as the elevator comes down and opens with a ding. You catch sight of your reflection in the elevator walls, and grimace, regretting not bracing the cold river earlier. You definitely look homeless, your last bath was exactly two days ago, you look grubby standing just a little bit behind Hoseok. Anyone who would see you now would definitely turn their nose up at you and outright ask what you’re doing in their pristine hotel. Though, there isn’t much you can do to prevent that.

When the doors slide close you focus on the button panel, and next to it is a key card scanner and a button under it. The word penthouse is neatly labelled on the button in little black letters, and Hoseok fishes around his coat to pull out a key card. You blink, of course he lives in the penthouse.

The scanner beeps softly and Hoseok presses the button that glows a soft blue before the elevator lurches slight and ascends.

You fiddle nervously with your fingers in front of you, keeping your eyes on your shoes. There’s a shuffle and Hoseok turns to look at you, he’s smiling kindly again, something like pity woven into it and you feel a coil of shame twist in your chest.

“I’m sorry...” You say without much reason, glancing at him and then back down, “For the trouble.”

“No trouble.” Hoseok says softly, concern on his brow, his hand reaching out but stopping short, as though he’s not sure if he could touch you. You’re surprised he even want to. Heck, you’re surprised he’s doing any of this at all. “Really.”

“Do you usually take in random homeless people?” You ask, and his chuckle is light and teasing.

“Only the cute ones.” He says and then looks a little mortified, “Sorry. I’m kidding. It’s just...you looked like you really needed help...so I’m helping.”

“You’re very kind.” You murmur and offer a smile.

He smiles back, not as brightly as his other ones, it curls his mouth less, doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He nods, “I try to be.”

The elevator slows to a stop, doors sliding open to a little well-lit hallway. On the other end of the hall is a wide pane of glass that overlooks the city lights, twinkling in a dance of their own making, and an emergency exit sign jutting out of the wall. You follow Hoseok out of the elevator towards the door which he unlocks with a password — the beeps loud in the quiet — the door opens with a soft thunk and a beep and he lets you walk in first.

The lights are on, as though he’d only planned to be out for a moment. You’re not too sure what to do with yourself now that you’re here, staring at Hoseok’s back unsurely as he takes his shoes off and tucks them neatly on a shoe rack.

He turns to face you, “I don’t mean anything by this, so please don’t misunderstand...”

You nod, waiting for him to continue.

He seems to weigh his words carefully, “Do you want to take a bath?”

You flush, yeah, you surely look grubby enough for him to ask that. It’s warranted, so, you’re not upset that he asked. You’d actually love to, when was the last time you took a bath that wasn’t in the freezing river?

Still though, it’s embarrassing. So you nod silently, “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He says, looking genuinely relieved. “You can leave your stuff here and I’ll take care of everything.”

“Okay...” You step out of your shoes, nudging them in a corner before you take your bag off and set it down. The clothes you have are still damp, stuffed in a plastic bag somewhere in the depths of your tattered backpack and Hoseok doesn’t give you a moment before he’s leading you through his home.

The chill of the grey tiled floor runs up your legs through your thin, threadbare socks. You don’t have much time to look around, but you’re aware you’ve passed an open space kitchen and living room, splashes of white, reds and black in the corner of your vision.

He lets you into the bathroom, “Use whatever you need. The towels and things are in the cabinet.”

You turn to face him, “I really can’t thank you enough.” You say earnestly, and he waves you off, turning to leave and shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

“I’ll bring you some clothes that you could use.” He says through the door, his voice muffled. You thank him again and his footsteps trail away.

You turn and glance around the bathroom, floor to ceiling glass panes makes up the furthest wall. Before it is a porcelain bathtub that could easily fit three people, on a raised platform of white stained marble, and that platform on another, creating a single step up in order to get into the tub. The colour of the platforms compliments the dark reflective marble floor. The undersides of the platforms are lined with what you assume must be LED lights, glowing a pale white along the bottom.

The same LEDs line the back of the large wall mounted mirror, giving it an ominous glow. Below the mirror is a dark granite sink with a faucet you’re not even sure how to turn on. The cabinet below the sink house only cleaning supplies, and you look around for the towel space.

The shower takes up nearly the whole wall it’s connected to, frosted glass and jets embedded into the wall.  

You walk over to the shower and realise that was wall beside it sorts of curve and you let out a surprised sound when you walk the short way towards the back of it. The ‘cabinet’ is more of a little walk-in closet, there’s a few fluffy looking bathrobes sorted by length and colour, and towels and washcloths stacked on shelves that match.

Under those are neat little space savers filled with bath oils and shower gels, sweet scented candles tucked into corners. Bar soaps and toilet paper on their own shelves at the bottom, unopened toothbrushes and what have you.

There’s enough room to turn full circle without bumping into anything if you step into it. But you look at your hands and decide to not touch anything until they're clean.

So you walk back out to the sink, frowning at the faucet with no visible way to turn it on; it’s just a sleek piece of metal that curves back into the basin. You look at it to and fro and wave your hand under it, startling slightly when water sprays from the faucet. You hold your hand away and it turns off after a moment. Now, your parents had money but it wasn’t anything like this.

You can’t imagine the cost of this place.

You find hand soap after peeking into the cabinet below the sink again, taking your time to thoroughly wash your hands clean. It’s hard to see the dirt go down the drain against the dark granite, but you’re grateful. You inspect your hands once your done, and finally allow yourself to touch Hoseok’s things. You take a towel down from the shelf, the one that’s at the top of the pile. It’s a nice pale yellow, and near the bottom right corner is a little blue butterfly embroidered into the fabric. After a little debate with yourself, you pull the washcloth that matches from its pile.

You set the towel on the closed lid of the toilet, and strip out of your clothes. You fold them neatly and set them on the floor along with your socks, stuffing your underwear into the pocket of your jacket. You step into the shower and pull the door shut behind you.

You turn the knobs and adjust the water so that’s it not too hot, and for a moment, you simply stand there. The water flows over your skin in rivulets, washing away the sweat and grime of the past two days. You try not to take too long, but made sure that you’re thoroughly scrubbed clean. You try not to use too much of Hoseok’s things, even though he’d told you to use whatever you needed.

You’re not sure how long you were in there, how long you stood letting the water wash away your tears as well.

When you step out, steam billowing put behind you, you wiggle your toes into the fluffy cotton mat under you, wrapping the towel around your form. It feels nice to be clean, skin feeling a little raw from the hot water. You tiptoe to the door and ease it open, and it pushes lightly against a bundle of folded clothes on the ground. Next to it, a pair of warm looking house slippers that you shuffle into immediately after drying your feet.

The clothes: a dark grey long sleeve crew neck tee that hangs just a little off one shoulder, a pair of boxer shorts still in it’s wrapping, and long fleece lined sweatpants that you have to fold at your ankles.

Near the door is a towel rack where you hang the towel you used to dry, and after taking a breath, you step out of the bathroom.

You walk back the way Hoseok led you, and the air is prickled with the scent of freshly made food and it makes you wonder just how long you took in the bathroom.

The kitchen is a wide space, between the area that makes up the entrance hallway is a kitchen island, and much like everything else you’ve seen, is a long, polished slab of dark marble. There’s a sink in the middle, sleek and silver and soft white light comes from the fixings above it. Across from that is a large refrigerator, an electric stove and more counter space. There are a few scattered appliances, a coffee maker and a small espresso machine tucked under a cupboard over them, and a blender with something or the other in it.

Hoseok stands with his back to you, he turns slightly, looking over his shoulder and startles.

“Oh – shit.” He laughs softly, “Hey, was your bath okay?”

“Sorry...” You apologize for scaring him and he waves you off, turning to face you fully. He scans your form but there’s nothing odd in the action, and he nods to himself at whatever he was looking for. “Oh, yeah. My bath was okay, thank you.”

“Dinner’s ready if you...oh...” he glances to the side, back to you and then to whatever he’s got going on the stovetop. “...This might be too heavy for you right now...” He murmurs to himself, a hand scratching at the back of his neck. He looks sheepish, a little guilty about something he didn’t consider.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll eat whatever it is.” You’re not about to make him waste his food, or be impolite.

“Okay, well.” He presses a button on the stove panel, turning to the island. There’s the sound of a drawer opening and he pulls out a kitchen towel, smiling at you. He nods his head to the right, where, tucked to the wall is a modest sized wooden table. There’re two plates of what he’s made already there, and tall glasses of water. “Go ahead.”

You walk over to the table, pulling out the chair to sit. Dinner is creamy mashed potatoes, a hearty portion of steamed mixed veggies and steak that’s somehow done to your liking and already cut into pieces. Your mouth waters at the sight and it smells so good you could cry. Hoseok isn’t finished at the island, so you busy yourself with folding the sleeves of your borrowed tee-shirt up and out of the way.

When he comes over he frowns a little, “You didn’t have to wait, dove.” He takes his seat opposite you, “Please, eat.”

The random pet name flies over your head, not that you would’ve been bothered by it had you been paying attention. Hoseok was kind enough to open his home to you, let you use his things and now he’s feeding you. He could call you whatever he likes.

You murmur a thank you and dig into your food. The sound you make when you take the first bite borders on erotic, but your gracious host doesn’t seem to mind very much. There’s a pleased glint in his eyes and a small curl to his mouth as he watches you eat for a moment.

You’re too hungry to be embarrassed by the intensity of his stare, but you’re mindful to not choke or look like you left your manners somewhere at your feet.

The food settles in your stomach, heavy but it’s a feeling you welcome. You could barely remember the last time you had a full meal. The bite you swallow brings the odd feeling of it slowing down behind your sternum, and you take a long drink of the cold water Hoseok had set out for you.

The man himself barely touched his own food, seemingly content to watch you scarf yours down. He has his chin propped in his hand, a small curl to the corner of his mouth and a glint of something in his eyes.

“Thank you...for the food.” You stare at your plate, drizzled with gravy and what’s left of your dinner. You can’t meet his gaze and you’re not certain why, and the intensity of it is starting to gnaw on your senses.

“No need for thanks, little dove.” Hoseok says, and there’s a soft clink when he finally picks his fork up and it knocks against the round rim of the plate. “Just doing my good deed for the day.”

The pet name strikes you this time, no longer distracted by the delicious food and your rumbling tummy. The way it rolls off his tongue sends a shiver racing down your spine, one that was decidedly unpleasant. There’s something in his tone, the way he stares when you raise your eyes to meet his, something in his beautiful heart shaped smile.

The fine hairs at the back of your neck raises, and you’re back to feeling like a bunny in a fox’s burrow. It was the same feeling you’d gotten earlier in the strange fog; the primal sense that you’re no longer the apex.

Something like a bell jingles in the back of your mind and grows louder until its a wailing alarm.

You should leave. Thank him for being so kind and get as far away from him as possible.

The look in his eyes unnerves you, but it’s something you can’t put a finger on. Just off the edge of his form something flutters, a shadow that shouldn’t be there, but it’s gone so quickly you didn’t have time to focus on it. The feeling intensifies; tugging, now.

You don’t think he’s blinked.

A shudder runs through you, rippling along your skin like a shockwave and Hoseok is calling your name.

“Are you okay?” there’s concern on his brow, his unoccupied hand raised in a wave as though he’s been trying to get your attention for a while. “Do you feel sick?”

“N... no. I’m fine, thank you.” You try to smile, but you’re pretty certain it looks as strained as it feels. He was almost done eating, though he’s paused to asses you with furrowed brows. You feel like you’ve missed something in the past minute.

“I asked if you wanted more food but you just blanked on me.” Hoseok sets his fork down and you feel like you’re losing your mind. The feeling from before is gone, and you’re not even certain if you felt it in the first place. Maybe you’re tired, or maybe the feeling of the comforts you’ve missed for so long is messing with your head.

Hoseok looks perfectly normal, there’s nothing flickering at his back or anything odd in his stare.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure.” You don’t feel certain, and if Hoseok noticed he didn’t comment on it. You pick up the fork again, scraping up the little left of your food onto it quietly. You feel strange, as though the past two minutes moved by too quickly, or like they happened weeks ago and you’re struggling to cling to the details of them.

Hoseok is focused on his plate, and uncertainty at the hope that he keeps his eyes there blooms in your chest. You’re not sure why.

It’s awkwardly quiet for a couple moments, with Hoseok finishing his meal and you, playing with the folded ends of your borrowed tee-shirt. When he was done, he takes the plates and the empty glasses to the sink to clean them and you sit idly at the table.

He’s drying his hands with a dark kitchen towel when he’s done, settling at the edge of the island and facing you. The overhead lights glow against his form, casting shadows along his visage that makes him look sharper; menacing. It clings to his hair like a depiction of something holy, making his dark hair look russet in the gleam.

You go to thank him again, even though he’d probably wave you off like he’s been doing the whole time, but the lights are too bright. The glow of the lights swells and flood your eyes, you squeeze them shut, trying to dispel the ache that comes with it. You turn your head and it feels like you’re neck deep in mud, it takes too much effort to do something so simple.

Panic wells in your chest, sending your heart kicking against your ribs harshly. You take a breath, well, you try, but it gets stuck somewhere in your throat and you choke on it.

There’s two Hoseoks when you peel your eyes open, and they neatly fold the towel they were using and put it down. For a minute, your vision settles, and the man leans against the island nonchalantly, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he watches you spiral.

“You should try to calm down.” He says softly, and you hate the way you cling to the sound of his voice when it’s very clear what’s happening.

“Wh...” Your tongue feels heavy, and the words you try to say are slurred and unintelligible. You move to stand, trying to get away even when your limbs feel like there’s a ball and chains at the ends of them. The world tilts on an axis, doubling as you make to your feet, you’re not sure if it’s leaning or you are.

Hoseok reaches you in a single step and a strangled sound escapes you. He places a hand on your shoulder, gently guiding you back into the chair. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing your body can’t handle.”

You can barely hear him, your ears feel as though there’s cotton in them, reducing his words to a muddled murmur. You can’t feel the way his fingers curl into the hair at your nape, but you notice the shift as he tilts your heavy head back to look up at him.

He’s smiling, you think. Pretty and heart shaped, all white teeth and sinister. And there’s that feeling again, as he says something you can’t hear, can’t focus, your eyes are closing.

There’s something dark and broken that flickers against the light above his head and shadows that dance at his back.

When the morning came and you didn’t wake, Hoseok wasn’t too concerned. He watched over you as once was his duty to another, tucked you into the sheets and the blankets and let you sink into the warmth of them. He sits in a chair at your bedside, simply watching the rise and fall of your chest and the pinch of your brow as sweat beads upon it.

Your body is fighting hard to flush out what he put in, and he admits, he may have given you a bit too much of it. It wasn’t his intention, but nothing can be done now but wait for you to come to.

When the afternoon comes and the first sign of your conscious shows in a weak attempt to rouse yourself, and a jumble of words that Hoseok deciphers with a well-trained ear it; was clear you weren’t fully there yet. Your skin was too warm, eyes not nearly focused enough, barely looking at him, and then the contents of your stomach come in a rush of bile and acid.

Hoseok tends to you gently, patiently, taking you to the bath and settling you in a way so that you don’t slip under and drown in your unconscious state. He cleans your mess, changes the bedding, puts you in a fresh set of clothes and lays you back to rest.

You stay asleep throughout the day, and Hoseok isn’t too concerned.

Humans are such fragile, foolish things. To him, you’re a porcelain doll, pretty to stare at and admire if it sits on the top of a shelf behind a case. Take it out of that case and it’s so easily broken. Hoseok is like a child in a sandbox of his own creation with too much power in his fingers. If he isn’t careful, he could shatter your form and lose you to the dunes.

The fear you felt the night before played you directly into his hands – never mind he had nothing to do with it – and Hoseok knows, you don’t have to be inclined to feel the weight of his presence. Your mind knew that something wasn’t quite right -- unconsciously or not --, and yet, you willingly followed.

Foolish.

Though, it was purely coincidental that you ran into him, he had been on his way to somewhere and wondering about the strangeness of the fog that rolled in out of nowhere. He hadn’t missed the weird quiet and lack of people either, it hadn’t been that late.

He doesn’t know exactly what you were doing in it, running around the way you were like a mouse in a maze. It’s something that sits at the back of his mind.

The morning of the second day brought no change; you were in and out of your drug induced sleep, and now, Hoseok was a little concerned.

::

“How much did you give her?”

There’s a squeak of leather as Seungcheol crosses his arms, when it’s quiet for far too long he gives Hoseok a look.

“A little.”

Seungcheol leans over your sleeping form, raising a hand to rest against your forehead. Hoseok would think you were dead if it weren’t for the steady rise and fall of your chest.

“If it was a little, you wouldn’t have called.” Seungcheol says, shaking his head, the dark waves of his hair brushing his eyelashes.

“Well, she’s not dead.”

“Dude.” Seungcheol looks a little disturbed, straightening to stare at Hoseok with a displeased furrow in his brow. “You can’t just – humans have limitations.”

“I’m aware, Cheol. Thank you.” Hoseok grumbles, and he ignores the raise of Seungcheol’s eyebrow and the clear disbelief in his eyes.

“‘Course you are.” He rolls his eyes and then sighs lowly, he turns back to you, placing his hand on your forehead again until the tension in your face fades. “Don’t give her any more of that shit. She should wake up sometime today, maybe.”

Hoseok knows better than anyone the limitations of humans. Not that he acknowledges them, he hadn’t the need to in a long time, but he should be careful at least.

Hoseok leads the way out of his guest bedroom with Seungcheol following and closing the door gently behind him. Walking to the kitchen he could feel his eyes burning into the back of his head.

Hoseok takes his time, fetching a glass from one of his cupboards and the whisky he keeps stashed away for his more stressful days. “Spit it out.”

Seungcheol braces his arms on the other side of the island, eyes dark. “Hoseok. I normally don’t care what you get up to; it’s not my business.” He says, looking somewhere to Hoseok’s right. “You don’t fuck around with humans. Who’s the girl?”

Hoseok hums, looking down at the amber liquid in his glass with a contemplative stare. “Street urchin. No one anyone would miss or bother to look for.”

“So you just took her off the street?” Seungcheol frowns, but Hoseok could tell from the look in his eyes that he knows it’s not that simple.

“She came willingly.” Hoseok corrects, taking a sip of the alcohol he could barely taste.

He sets the glass down on the island and pours the whisky to fill half. Seungcheol is quiet, and Hoseok hates it. It gives his mind a moment to wonder, to open a box he’s kept locked and chained.

On most days, Hoseok barely knows himself. He remembers what he’s supposed to be – what he was – and sometimes, that part of him rears its head to fight with what he’s become. Wings dipped in gold and divinity at the end of his fingertips battle endlessly with the shadows that encased him.

A memory of a time he held something as fragile as glass in his hands, broken before he could properly hold it by someone who was supposed to keep it safe. The ache of it burns like a rash that never goes away, always there, only hiding under his skin until it flares up again.

“Just... don’t do anything stupid.” Seungcheol says after a while, watching Hoseok carefully.

“You and your moral compass.” Hoseok shakes his head, and just like that, the golden light is bundled up tightly and pushed back into the corner where he long hid it.

Seungcheol heaves a sigh, shaking his head, picking up his bag he threw on the island counter when he got here.

“I need you to do something for me.” Hoseok says, watching the light shine through the glass in pretty crystal shapes. There’s a furrow of Seungcheol’s brows, but he tells Hoseok to continue with a raise of his chin. “Keep an eye out for a fog.”

“A fog? Why?”

“She was in one the night before.” Hoseok sucks air in through his teeth, “and she wasn’t alone.”

Seungcheol hums, “Alright.”

Hoseok drinks the last of the whisky in one go and waves a hand at Seungcheol, “You can go now.”

“Thank you, Cheol. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” Seungcheol grumbles and then raps his knuckles against the countertop. “I’ll be over here for a few days, gotta sort some things out. Call if you need me.”

Hoseok watches him leave, stuffing his hands into his pocket as he walks back to the bedroom where you still lay asleep.

He sits on the chair, watching the rise and fall of your chest, every minute twitch of your facial features. Restlessness tugs at his limbs as the sun makes its descent western sky, spraying the dimming canvas in hues of lilac and peach.

Something in the back of his mind asks what exactly he’s doing. There was no reason – there wasn’t a reason for him to take you in. A sprout of boredom, maybe, or something involuntary.

Hoseok stares out the window at the slowly darkening sky and the soft glimmer of early evening stars, until the sky is navy and darkness clings to the room.

Your mouth feels like someone’s stuffed cotton in it, and your throat feels like sandpaper when you try to swallow.

You haven’t opened your eyes, laying on what you presume is a bed, if the softness beneath you was anything to go by.

There’s not much that you remember, even as the fog in your mind clears little by little. You remember eating, you remember feeling strange like someone had shrunk you and shook you around in a jar of water. You remember the fear that quickened your heart and your breaths and Hoseok, standing above you like a malevolent God.

You remember the strangeness of his form, and even now your mind can’t comprehend it. You’re not even certain if what you saw was actually real and not an effect of whatever Hoseok had drugged you with.

Drugged.

He drugged you.

Your eyes open and the room is dark. The blankets are thick and heavy and they make you feel warm. There’s a window to your far left, curtains drawn back to show the city in all it’s glory.

Slowly, you sit up, pushing yourself upwards on arms that feel a little weak, and find – to your horror – the clothes you were wearing before aren’t what you’re wearing now.

You take a breath before the panic could set in. You could feel it rolling under your skin like a rumble of thunder before rain, and you try your best to stay calm. You need to find a way out of here.

The apartment seems to be quiet as you slide your feet out of the bed and onto the floor. You barely register the chill of it when you stand, sock-less feet making it easier to sneak over to the door without making a sound. You don’t know where Hoseok put your things, and you don’t have time to go looking for them.

The door isn’t locked, and doesn’t make noise when you push it open slightly to peek out through the little gap you made. You recognise the hallway, the bathroom is two doors down on the other side, and opening the door a little more, you poke your head out tentatively. 

You don’t breathe as you listen, but it’s so quiet, so much so that your exhale seems too loud, and there’s a soft ringing in your ears that set you on edge. Stepping outside the room, you contemplate your next course of action: You can bolt right for the door and get out, but risk making too much noise if Hoseok is indeed here. Or, you can slowly and quietly make your way over and slip out without cluing your kidnapper in on your escape.

Can it be called kidnapping if you were living on the streets?

The door seems miles away as you inch slowly towards the open kitchen and living room area. There are a few lights on, the same LED lighting strips run along the edge of the large pane windows and glows an ominous blue and the lights over the marble island had been dimmed. Both rooms seem empty and you couldn’t be more thankful.

Like a mouse, you skitter across along the hallway space that divides the two, down the little platform at the entrance and take one more step towards the door.

The door that seems further back than it was a second ago.

The stretch of space that was just an arm’s length away was now more than a hallway’s length. You stand still and stare at it, reaching an arm out in case you’re suddenly tripping balls but your hand swipes through air and falls limply at your side.

You look behind you and the rooms and hallway are just as they were, and turning back, the door was right where it was before. You could’ve sworn there was a handle on it. You place your palm against the cool, smooth surface where the handle should be and in the face of your freedom thwarted, you pinch your thigh.

You must be dreaming. The pain flares and grounds you and you realise there’s no explanation for this. You’re wide awake. Still drugged then. But you feel fine. There’s no swirling vision or heavy limbs, your mouth doesn’t feel like someone squeezed glue into it; you’re fine. This doesn’t make sense.

You back away from the door and almost stumble against the raised ledge behind your heels. Steadying yourself with a hand against the wall, you turn, and immediately, notice the darkness of the hallway.

Your breath catches in your throat and your heart slams so harshly against your sternum it hurt. There’s that feeling again, it sends a shiver racing down your spine and scattering goosebumps along your skin. You’re being watched. You are not the apex here.

You want to run, or curl up into a ball and hope the darkness hides you. Fear coils into your muscles and locks them tight, and you’re left standing still, eyes darting around trying to make sense of the shapes in the dark.

There’s a darkness that curls at the center of the space a few feet away from you, undulating and crashing in on itself in an uncoordinated dance of chaos. It’s somehow darker than the darkness – stands out against it like white on black paint. It doesn’t make sense to you, and it could simply be your mind turning against you and scaring you further.

It slowly floats towards you, wraps around you in a languid, bored way, like smoke, no longer as tangible as it seemed before. You don’t feel it’s caress, but it’s cold, like you’d submerged yourself into a tub full of ice and water. You feel as though you’ll pass out, like the black wisps of strange smoke is filling your lungs and carving its way through. There’s fear, which is yours, and something that isn’t.

Something dark and lonely, desperate and afraid. It’s sad, so sad that you feel like you’ll drown in it, that tears would well in your eyes and squeeze your throat tight. There’s anger. It feels as though you can burn the world and revel in it.

The smoke snaps back and away from you, crumples on itself violently and then the lights are on, blinding you.

Hoseok is standing in front of you. There’s a mix of conflicted emotions on his face like he can’t settle on one before the storm in his eyes calm.

There’s a tenseness to his brow, and he studies you quietly with a tilt of his head.

“You’re awake.”

He takes one step forward and you take two back in turn. His eyes dart down to your feet and quickly back to your face, and draws the foot he put forward back to himself.

“I won’t hurt you.”

You scoff before you could help it, fear pushed slightly to the side as your anger rushes forward. “Right. Like I’ll believe that after you fucking drugged me.”

“Like I said, it was nothing your body couldn’t handle.” Hoseok counters calmly, “If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be dead.”

“Then why am I here? What do you want?” His threat didn’t go unheard, it settles into your mind and buries itself underneath everything else you’re trying to absorb for you to freak out about later.

Hoseok smiles, and its bright in its visage, every bit of sweet and caring as you thought him to be. Dimples you haven’t noticed before sinks into his laugh lines, and you think briefly, it makes him even more dangerous. He looks so harmless, as his smile blossoms and blooms into the heart shape you remember from the night before.

“Just you.” He says, eyes glinting with something you’ve decided is more than a little crazy.

You take another step back and he remains in his spot. If you’re quick enough – just enough – you can make it to the door. You might be able to outrun him.

“You can leave if you like.” He says, like he could tell what you’re thinking – or read your mind – and his smile fades, like a raincloud swelling and covering the warm rays of the sun. “Can’t guarantee you’d get very far, so I advise against it.”

You’re not sure if he’s being honest. Though, he looks pretty damn serious. He stares at you quietly, intensely, like he’s daring you to make that mistake. You hazard a look at the door behind you and the handle is still gone.

“What are you?” you ask, turning to face him and he’s directly in front of you. The startled squeak that leaves you makes him chuckle. Bending at his waist, Hoseok stares right into your eyes and you feel like your heart might just burst out of your chest and take off running.

Bunny in a fox’s burrow.

“Hm.” He hums, “Now you’re asking questions.” He straightens with a smile and steps aside, gesturing to the kitchen with a slight nod of his head. “I’ll tell you eventually. For now though, you should eat.”

You stay rooted to your spot and decide that if he wants you to move, he’s going to have to move you himself. He’s insane if he thinks you’d be eating anything he gives you.

“Come now, dove. Don’t be that way.” He sighs, stares at you for a moment later before nodding. He turns on his heel and walks into the kitchen without you.

There’re the soft clangs of him moving things around, doing whatever he’s doing in there.

“You’ve been unconscious for two days, and you’ve been sick. You shouldn’t be standing.” You hear him say from the kitchen, and you think you could make another attempt at the door but the handle is still missing, so you have no choice but to go.

You eye him suspiciously when you enter, watching as he butters a piece of toast and puts it on a plate. He doesn’t look at you as you hover unsurely at the dining table, watching the lights catch on the dark marble island counter.

“I won’t give you anything to drink. Get it yourself if you’re worried I’d try something.” He says softly, and not unkind. There’s a shift in his tone and the way his body moves as he brings the plate over. You feel like the man who was standing in front of you a couple of minutes ago in the hallway had hidden himself away and the man you’d met on the street had crawled his way back to the surface.

He sets it down on the table and walks back around the island, opposite from where you’re standing, and out of the kitchen.

You’ve been here for two days – whatever he’d given you must have been strong as hell – trapped here with...him. You’re certain you can’t call him a man, he’s something more than that and you won’t know until he tells you. Most of the memory of the night you came here are blurry and frayed at the edges, making them impossible to cling to and analyse.

There was something strange in the moments before the drug kicked in and right before you passed out. Something strange about Hoseok, but you can’t seem to recall it. It’s like it happened years ago.

The inconsistencies of your memory leave you on edge, and you eye the two slices of perfectly buttered toast on the plate. He’s given you something light enough that your stomach won’t be upset. As the thought comes to mind you faintly remember being sick at some point, but that too is fuzzy and you aren’t sure if its real. At least now the change of clothes makes sense, though, it doesn’t make you feel any better. He could’ve done anything to you while you were drugged and unconscious.

You wonder what he could possibly want with you. Why you, of all people? You’re just a girl who had everything taken from her and thrown off the ladder, now at rock bottom fending for yourself. There’s nothing left of you that could be given.

You feel Hoseok’s presence before you see him, a sort of odd pressure in the back of your mind and your chest. He pokes his head into the room like he’s checking to see if you’d started eating or not and doesn’t look surprised to see you’d left the toast untouched and you’re still standing.

“The toast is fine, you know.” He says, and there’s an understanding in his eyes when he looks at you. He knows you don’t trust him, though, he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He sighs when you don’t make a move and comes into the kitchen. He takes the same route as before, walking around the opposite side of the island – away from you – until he’s standing at the other side of table.

“Okay.” He says, picking up one of the toast slices, he bites into it and stares at you while he chews. “Make something yourself then.”

You blink, “Huh?”

“The bread is in the fridge if you want. There’re oats if you prefer that instead. Stick to light things. I’d rather not be cleaning up after you.” You don’t understand him. In the short time you’ve known him, he’s like a square that’s trying to fit into a circle. The circle is too round to accommodate his sharp edges, but he somehow manages to get just half of the square through, even if the circle is struggling to contain it.

Not to mention the weird things that’s happened within the half hour you’ve been awake, things he’s yet to explain to you. Matter of fact, strange things has been happening since you left Abigail. The police officer, the fog, and whatever the hell was out there in it with you. You’re not even sure if that was real either.

You feel like if you focus on it, you’ll go crazy. So your mind does the only thing it can do to protect itself – pushes it away into a corner to mull over later along with everything else.

“I’d rather not.” You no longer feel the need to show him gratitude. You feel stupid, for one, why did you think trusting a random stranger would be a good thing?

Hoseok shrugs, dropping the half-eaten toast back onto the plate. He walks around you, close enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stands on end, that the warning bells are going crazy in your head again.

It’s uncomfortable being this close. The reaction is visceral, unable to ignore and you wonder why you hadn’t felt it the night before. Why you’d manage to follow him all the way here and not noticed. Maybe you had, briefly and in little moments that were small enough for you to brush them off.

You watch him watch you as he circles you like a vulture, “What are you?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was human?” He asks from behind you, and it feels like a terrible idea to have your back to him. He sounds amused, like this is nothing but a little game to him – just something to pass time while he’s bored.

As he rounds your right, your eyes meet the darkness of his. “You’re not.” It would be strange if you still thought he was after everything that’s happened already.

Hoseok hums, a twinkle lighting his eyes, “Perceptive, aren’t we?” There’s something like pride in his voice but you’re not sure what it’s for, “What do you think I am?”

“You expect me to guess correctly?” The difference in your height does nothing to stop you from glaring at him. He tilts his head at you, dark locks of his hair swaying against his forehead gently.

“No.” Hoseok smiles, “But it’ll make things interesting. I like games; play along.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his tone and the darkness in his eyes. He takes a step away from you and it feels like you can finally take a breath. His movements are fluid as he pulls the dining chair out from below the table. He sits gracefully, propping his chin in his palm as he watches you expectantly.

“Do you want a hint?” He asks, smiling sweetly.

“Why don’t you just tell me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You’re tired of whatever game he’s playing at, sick of the fear that keeps you standing still as he stares you down.

He stares at you like you’re a complex puzzle he’s trying to piece together. “I used to be an angel. Fallen from grace.”

You’d laugh at the absurdity of his words, but he has that look again. He has that look that makes you believe him, and everything seems to click into place and make sense, even if you barely understand it at all.

“Okay.” You nod, and then take a seat. You focus on the gentle waves of his dark hair and not his eyes, “Why am I here? Why can’t I leave?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. You can if you want to. I said that I can’t guarantee you’d get far; You weren’t alone out in that fog.”

You’d almost forgotten about that. Recent happenings had been enough to push it to the back of your mind. You knew you weren’t losing your mind that night, something had definitely chased you and you’re positive it wasn’t a regular animal.

“But that’s another topic.” Hoseok mumbles, more to himself than you, and it looks as though his thoughts strayed elsewhere for a moment before he focused. “You should be thanking me.” He says, tilting his head to meet your gaze with a smile.

He couldn’t be seriously wanting you to thank him. For what? Saving you? For all you know it could’ve been one of his tricks. Why would you thank him? He says that you could leave if you like – him messing with you since you woke up says otherwise. He’s not actually giving you a choice. You’re not going anywhere unless he lets you.

When you remain silent, he leans forward, pink tongue darting out to moisten his lips. “There’s nothing for you out there, though.”

You know he’s right. But that doesn’t justify what he’s doing. You assume he doesn’t care, if you were him, you wouldn’t feel the need to abide by law either.

You’d never been much for fantasy stories, growing up you were well aware that they were just that – stories. Your parents weren’t very religious, but you’d say grace before meals, pray before you go to sleep and when you woke up. Your parents would sometimes quote the bible when you were being naughty and every now and again you’d find yourself in a church for Sunday mas.

Your father used to say that the bible is a book of stories and lessons, and even if you aren’t to abide strictly by it, you should at least heed it. There’s someone up above, watching always.

The angels in the bible were described differently than the man before you, you think. Can angels really do things so bad that it gets them casted out?

Did he do something bad that got him sent here like some wayward child sent off to boot camp?

Even if a part of you is ever doubtful, his existence proves the existence of a higher being and you have some choice words for them.

In the days that go by, you remain wary of Hoseok. You don’t trust him, but you appreciate him letting you hover about him anytime he makes you something to eat. He makes everything from scratch and you wonder most of the time if it’s a skill he just has or was it something he had to hone on his own.

He barely bothers you, goes about his business, which really, entails him sitting in the living room and ignoring you.

Some days is another story entirely. You came to realise quickly that Hoseok is fond of games, usually at your expense. A shadow following you here, whispers that come from no where and bounces off the walls.

There are moments when you catch glimpses of something out of the corner of your eye – a figure lurking in the darkness, just beyond your line of sight. When you turn to look, there’s nothing there, leaving you to wonder if it was ever really there at all. You’ve seen shit at the corner of your vision way too many times for it to be a coincidence. You try to brush them off as tricks of the mind, but deep down, you know it’s not that simple.

Hoseok is always there when it happens, some sort of mirth in his eyes like your suffering is amusing.

The feeling of being watched becomes a constant presence, a weight on your shoulders that you can’t shake no matter how hard you try. Every time you turn around, you half expect to find Hoseok lurking in the shadows, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your discomfort.

For the first week it’s been this way, and when the second week started, he’d leave at one point during the day. Bored of you most likely, not that you’re complaining; at least he was no longer trying to send you crazy.

He’d give you the same instruction he did the night be brought you, use anything you need with additions of ‘Don’t cause trouble’ and ‘Stay put’. You always roll your eyes at that, the door remains the same; missing it’s handle. You couldn’t leave even if you wanted to.

You would stand in the living room, which looks much like the rest of Hoseok’s penthouse apartment; sleek and dark. There’s a few accents of white and red, black leather couches and clear glass tables. A flat screen TV you’ve never seen used mounted on the wall, a fluffy white rug covering the space between it and the couch. You’ve seen no other electronics besides that, nothing that you can use to contact anyone.

He’d left you things to occupy your time – like you’re a child – books and puzzles and what have you. And you found that the TV works if you become bored of the other things.

Weirdly enough, there’s people outside and below, unlike the night you came when it looked like a ghost town. You can see the glint of the sun bouncing off of shiny cars driving in and out of the hotel’s compound. Little people walking around as they go about their days, oblivious to your plight.

Sometimes you would hear someone out in the hallway beyond the door, like someone coming to clean and you would bang on the door and be as loud as you possibly could. It’s like you’re a ghost. You asked him about that once, and he told you that he can mimic spaces, make it seems as though something is or isn’t there.

Sometimes Hoseok would come back from his little excursions and be as normal as he could be. He’d talk to you like he isn’t holding you captive, ask you about what you did for the day as though there’s a million and one things you could do while there. You’d answer as to not be on the wrong side of him, even though it’s clear that he doesn’t quite mind you not saying anything back. He’d ask you what you’d like for dinner, and he’d eat with you.

On days like those it feels... normal. You feel comfortable and the nature of the situation escapes you. Like this had been your life for as long as you could remember. And sometimes you think, that maybe, if things were different. If perhaps he hadn’t kidnapped you, ‘helping’ you or otherwise. Maybe if your life had gone a little differently and you’d met him under different circumstances...then maybe.

Sometimes on those days he’d sit quietly as you give him little pieces of you; telling him about your childhood and not so important things. He’d clear the coffee table to put a puzzle together and ask you to help him with it.

Some days he’d come back and he wouldn’t be in a good mood. He’d stand and brood at the large windows looking out, lost in thought. On those days he’d look gone, vacant, as though whatever going on in his head was paramount to the reality around him. His eyes are sad then, and he’d be so quiet you’d forget he’s there. He’d make dinner, and he would not eat.

On days like those, if you wake at night and venture out of your room, you’d find Hoseok as you did the night you first woke up. A swirling ball of shadows and smoke somewhere about, and the lights are always off. It scares the hell out of you every time. It reminds you of what he is, despite the nature of his existence, there’s something very dark about him. He scares you mostly, even when he’s being nice, it’s unnerving. You’d try to stay clear of him then.

Something in your mind had been made aware that he is beyond your understanding. He’s stronger and faster than you, can do things that makes your brain grind to a halt trying to process. Sometimes it feels like he’s in your head, watching your every move and surveying your every thought. It scares you.

On days like those, the last thing you want to do is sleep.

Sleep evades you and when you do finally catch it, your dreams are wrought with nightmares of shadows and screams and blood. Sometimes Hoseok is there and he’s less kind than he’s ever been, and you’re lost in darkness and can’t find your way out.

Sometimes it’s a man with red hair lurking at the corners of them, smiling and taunting you. You feel like you could never escape them, like your dreams lasts the entire night and leave you exhausted when you wake up.

The room you woke up in so long ago was yours; Hoseok stays clear of it and never enters without knocking. One day Hoseok had brought you clothes you’re certain costs more than your life, they’re mostly comfort clothes as you have nowhere to be at no point in time. From sweaters to tee-shirts, lounge pants to bicycle shorts and an assortment of underwear that made you scowl at him.

That day you asked him just how long he was going to keep you captive – he didn’t much like the use of that word, prefers ‘keeping you safe’. He told you about the mysterious animal that chased you in the fog, that he and a friend are looking into it and reminds you that you wouldn’t get very far should you leave. You reminded him that he’s not letting you go anywhere.

You stare up at the ceiling, counting the swirling pattern from one corner to the next. You’ve lost count of them every time and you’ve lost count on just how long you’ve been here. Hoseok remains the same, fluctuating between rivalling the sun and being the moon that sometimes eclipse it.

It’s the morning of yet another day, and you can hear Hoseok moving about already. Sometimes you wonder if he ever sleeps...does he need sleep? He eats...that much is for certain, so by any rate he functions partially human.

You sigh softly, getting out of bed and shuffling your feet to the house slippers Hoseok gave to you. There’s the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen, the sound of Hoseok moving about, and it sounds like he’s in a good mood if his humming is anything to go by.

You wash up for the morning and get changed before carrying yourself out to the kitchen.

Hoseok looks devastatingly domestic and the smile he directs at you is enough to send your mind haywire. These past few days has been confusing for you. Though the initial fear you felt for him was there, lately, it’s been less. You’ve found yourself missing him when he goes off to do whatever he does during the day and you’re excited when he comes back. You’re chalking up the reason for that being that he’s the only person you’ve been in contact with for possibly a month or two.

On some of the days where he would come back and be less than happy, and the lights go out like they’re scheduled to and Hoseok is no longer tangible. When he hovers in a little ball of controlled chaos that blends into the darkness, you sit and wait. You wait until he’s there again and the lights are back on and he looks at you like you’re something he’s lost.

It confuses you as much as his smile that sends your heart thrumming against your ribcage in a dance that isn’t out of fear. You actually can’t remember when you’d stopped being afraid of him.

“I’m going out today.”

Your brows furrow, he’s never told you that he’s leaving before. He brings over a breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon and sliced fruit. A sealed carton of orange juice and a glass for you.

“Okay...?”

Hoseok smiles, “Okay.”

::

When lunch came around, you’re sitting at the island watching Hoseok prepare the ingredients for whatever he’s going to make.

You don’t really feel the need to watch him as closely as you did when you first got here, now you simply do it because there isn’t anything better to do.

He moves in the kitchen like it’s a dance, turning to and fro with a grace you could only hope to have.

He’s already got something on the stove, some sort of sauce you think. It smells amazing and you’re looking forward to whatever it could be.

He looks a bit in his head, brows furrowed as he concentrated a little too hard to just be cutting an onion into crescent slices. He mutters something under his breath, turning to stir the contents in the pot before going back at the onion.

“Hoseok?” You call softly as he sets the onion aside in a bowl and pulls something else onto the cutting board. For a moment you’re not sure if he’s heard you, with just the steady sound of the knife hitting the board, he hums, glancing at you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.” You can tell he’s in one of his moods, but he’s actively trying to be pleasant. He fills a pot with water and sets it on the stove and then turns the oven on to heat up. “What is it?”

His tone isn’t harsh, just a tad bit impatient.

“Is cooking just something that you can do? Or did you have to learn?”

He turns, pauses, stares at you for a moment and then chuckles, “It’s a skill I acquired through a lot of trial and error. I had a long time to perfect it, though.”

“How long are we talking?” You’re a little intrigued, besides him telling you that he’s a fallen angel, he hasn’t told you exactly how he became one or how long he’s been here.

He tilts his head and smiles gently in the way he does when he’s thinking if he should answer you honestly or not before shrugging, “Long enough.”

You sigh, “Fine. Don’t tell me. You’re probably older than dirt anyway.”

A surprised laugh leaves him, high pitched and a little untamed. The sound is infectious and now you’re laughing too.

Happiness looks good on him, you wish he wore it often.

When it was about four in the afternoon, you hear the closing of Hoseok’s door and the sound of his footsteps walking up the hall.

You’re curled up against the corner of the couch, tucked under a yellow blanket with a book in your hand. You smell him before you see him; the cologne he’s wearing reaching the room before he does.

He steps in and stands near the entrance, the end of his coat brushing against his shins while he secures a watch to his wrist. His hair’s grown longer since he brought you here, curling against his jaw and the bangs are long enough to almost hide his eyes if not for the middle part. The rings on his fingers catch the light of the sun, and he finally settles, a serious look on his face as he watches you for a moment.

He seems to be contemplating something, the muscle of his jaw tensing as he grinds his teeth. He lifts a hand and crooks a finger at you.

Unwrapping yourself from the blanket, you walk over to him. He doesn’t say anything, but levels you with a look and guides you into the hallway with a hand at your back. “I’m leaving the door alone.”

The door is practically singing your freedom, the silver handle looks like a lighthouse at a stormy sea at night. Hoseok is looking down his nose at you when you finally tear your eyes away. His eyes narrow as though he can hear your thoughts and steps away from you.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

And you didn’t. You messed around with the TV, got bored, read another book, and decide to take a nap. Doing it all to ignore the door. You wouldn’t get very far. You really don’t want to know what Hoseok meant by that.

There isn’t anywhere you can go, you have nothing to your name. You get three square meals, clean clothes and a bed to sleep in when night comes – you think about Abigail, you wonder if she’s alright – you’d actually be quite dumb to go out there. Hoseok hasn’t done much but mentally exhaust you, you aren’t chained up in a dank room and being made to do things against your will. It’s actually quite pleasant.

You shuffle to your room and crawl under the covers, suddenly too sleepy to keep your eyes open. You would usually take naps when there’s nothing else for you to do, but you’re never this sleepy. It’s like your body is demanding you close your eyes and pass out right now.

You open your eyes a couple of minutes later and realise you didn’t know you fell asleep. It’s dark out already.

You throw the covers back, scoot to the edge of the bed, and put your feet right into water. You look down at it confused – did you leave a tap on? Hoseok would probably throw you out a window for flooding his place. Or maybe he’ll start up his silly mind games again and drive you nuts.

You’re not too concerned about it, strangely enough, as you get up, the water soaks into the legs of your pants. It’s high enough to lap against the middle of your shins and you curse softly, how could you forget to turn the tap off?

You swish through the water, reaching the door and pulling it open. The water is gone and you’re standing in the living room. Hoseok sits on the couch, one leg lapped over the other, bobbing idly as he turns the page of a thick book balanced on his thigh.

“Hoseok.” You sigh, “Stop it. I’m not in the mood for your stupid games.”

He turns his head slowly to look at you, crooks a finger like he did at you earlier. You stomp over to him, not caring that you probably look rather childish doing so. When you stop in front of him, he gently puts the book aside and then wraps his fingers around your wrist.

Your pulse flutters and you pray that he can’t feel it. A soft squeak leaving you as he tugs you to him, you fumble to catch yourself, trying not to trip over your feet and the carpet. Your hand lands beside his head, sinking into the leather, his eyes meet yours through his hair, and when he pulls you down, you follow without question.

He settles you in his lap, one hand gripping your waist and the other snaking upward to bury itself into your hair. He leans forward, nosing along the underside of your jaw and when the warmth of his tongue streaks against your pulse, a shiver races down your spine before you catch yourself. You push against his shoulder, “Hoseok.”

His chuckle sounds dark to your ears, his grip on your waist tightens enough that you fear you’d bruise. His teeth drag against your earlobe and yours sink into your bottom lip. “Don’t act like this isn’t what you want.”

His words wrap around your head, burying themselves under your skin and makes home there. The hand in your hair slowly slides out of it, moving down until it’s wrapped around your throat. His thumb presses against your racing pulse, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “You want me to break you.”

It’s a moment of bliss, warmth spreading through you before it instantly chills. It’s all fun and games until he’s actually trying to choke you out. Your breaths come in shallow gasps as Hoseok’s grip tightens around your throat, squeezing the air from your lungs. Panic surges through you, and for a moment, you’re certain you’ll pass out from lack of oxygen.

He’s going to kill you.

Desperate, you claw at his hands, trying to pry them away, but his strength overwhelms you. Your struggles intensify as you realize the danger you’re in.

He stands swiftly and lets you go, and you crash unceremoniously into the glass coffee table, nearly breaking your wrist trying to catch your weight. You cough and gasp, clutching at your throat that burns with every breath you take. Your eyes sting with tears as you scramble to put distance between you and him.

He watches you, amused, taking slow steps towards you. He laughs, the sound echoing off the walls and you realise – there’s nowhere to run.

You look up at him, and you’re now facing the windows. The LEDs that line the perimeter of them are glowing a sinister red and they’re the only source of light. There’s something slick under your palms, something you slide in as you try to get up. Inspecting it in the lighting does nothing, as it simply looks dark against your skin, but, there’s no mistaking the scent of copper.

Gazing around, you’re sitting in a pool of blood. Hoseok is nowhere to be found. The pool stretches off like something was dragged through it, going out the living room and down the hall.

You follow it, against your better judgement. This is the worst trick he’s ever played.

Your pants stick to your skin uncomfortably, and you wipe your hands hurriedly against the front of them. It doesn’t do much but spread the mess of blood around. The trail leads into your bedroom, and you stand outside the slightly ajar door with your heart pounding against your ribs.

Raising a hand, you push the door open, but plan to go no further than the threshold. The lights are on, dimly, it doesn’t give you much vision, but you could see Hoseok standing over someone.

It’s you, well...it was you. You’re not sure if you could call that you anymore. Limbs twisted in unnatural angles, sharp ends of bone sticking out from your bruised skin.

You stumble backwards, slipping in the still wet trail of blood and falling against the door behind you. Tears blur your vision, you feel sick.

“You see?” a voice whispers, echoing and bouncing around in your head. “This is what will happen.”

There’s someone else here.

“He’ll kill you.” The voice snickers, crawling along your skin like poison ivy. “Run. Get out.”

You startle awake, gasping for air, searching your body for any sign of blood. The sun is almost setting, preparing to make its descent in the west and you dart out of bed. Your skin feels tight, like you’re too big for it and it makes you uncomfortable. Your breaths are harsh barely making it into your lungs before you’re forcing it out again.

You make for the door, yanking it open and running down the hall. You didn’t stop to think, you just want out. You push the entrance door and it opens and you stumble out into the hallway you haven’t seen in ages.

You run up to the elevator, the overhead floor indicator is blank. And the elevator doesn’t budge when you push the button frantically. Hands caught in your hair you spin around, there must be a way.

The green exit sign glows like a beacon of hope. You trip over your feet getting to it, almost face planting on the expensive rug that lines the hallway. The door opens with a click and your footsteps echo in the stairwell as you take them two at a time to get as far away from this place as possible.

You don’t stop until you’re three flights down, breath ragged and vision spotty. You lean against the wall to catch your breath, panting and wiping the sweat off your brow.

There’s a loud bang that echoes from somewhere below and you freeze. Taking careful steps you peek between the railings and see nothing.

It might be Hoseok.

Or, it could be someone else in the building and your only hope of getting out of here.

“Hello? Is someone ther—” There’s another loud bang, and you take a couple steps down the fourth flight and look over the railing again. A thick fog swirls just a floor below.

The hair on the back of your neck shoots up at the low growl that dances up the stairwell. You nearly go tumbling down it in your haste to turn around and go back up.

As you turn to go back up the third flight, the fog surrounds you and you stop as it becomes impossible to see. You grip tightly to the stair railing, tentatively stepping up – You’re trying not to breathe too loudly.

There’s something scraping against the ground on the stairs below and your heart kicks. You step faster, at the same time trying not to trip and break your neck. There’s a low snarl and you bolt, taking the stair two at a time back up the way you came.

The floor vibrates beneath you as whatever it is gives chase. You make it up to the first landing, pulling the exit door open with a grunt. You’re just about to step through when what feels like three hot butcher knives slices through your back. The force of it sends you pitching forward, smacking hard into the wall on the opposite side before you crumple against it.

You could barely feel it, you’re aware you’re hurt...you could feel the pulsing, open wounds at your back. Your mind is trying to process as you struggle to move, taking a breath aches as you push yourself upward and away from the wall just enough to turn. You don’t manage much more than that, sliding down the wall until your butt hits the pretty red carpet.

The metal door of the emergency exit swings open harshly, banging loudly against the wall before it leans forward; one of the hinges broken. The thing that stands in the doorway looks like it crawled out of some deep, dark part of hell. It’s standing on it’s hind legs before it drops forward, claws that look at least nine inches long scraping against the linoleum.

It looks like a giant dog, honestly. It’s hard to tell when all you could focus on was that you could feel your heartbeat at your back, and the slick warmth soaking into your ruined sweater and pants. Shock maybe...or adrenaline, was keeping most of the pain at bay, you’re pretty sure you’d be dead otherwise right now.

With a guttural growl, the creature emerges, its form contorted and twisted, as if it were forged from the very essence of nightmares.

Its body is a grotesque fusion of twisted flesh and sinew, its skin a sickly shade of mottled grey, stretched taut over bulging muscles that ripple with every movement. Sharp spikes protrude from its spine, glinting menacingly in the dim light, while its black eyes burn with a fiery intensity that seems to pierce through your very soul.

The creature's mouth curls into a snarl, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth stained with blood. Its breath is a noxious cloud of decay and sulphur, filling the air with a suffocating stench that makes your stomach churn.

As it lurches forward on all fours, its movements are unnaturally fluid, each step sending tremors through the ground beneath you. It’s trying to squeeze its way through the small space of the doorway, too big to pass through, and you could do nothing but watch.

Your vision goes hazy as you simply stare at the creature.

The adrenaline is fading and you’re starting to feel your wounds, but maybe if you could crawl towards the door...

At six pm on a Friday evening, Hoseok isn’t at all surprised to see the line of people waiting to get into the club. It’s still a long way to opening, but with the prestige of this place, again, he isn’t surprised.

He was with Yoongi when he bought the place, watched him build it from the ground up. Watched his taste for the interior bounce around erratically until he settled, as the clientele flickered from the common club goer to people – if they had enough money – buying their way in.

Haegeum is on the high-end of the city, the type of place where you’d wonder if folks had enough money to burn just because. Yoongi doesn’t discriminate and all are welcomed.

The queue is a mix of people: folks dressed to the nines just to step a foot in the place, those of which would most likely be sitting pretty in the VIP section. People just looking for a place to escape to for a while, teenagers holding tight to their fake Ids and clinging to their friends. They mingle in groups or alone, their chatter filling the air with a soft buzz of voices and hushed giggles.

Hoseok takes everything in with an air of nonchalance as he strolls by.

The bouncer at the heavy black door stands stoically, clipboard in hand for VIP clients. Hoseok breezes past him when he opens the door to let him in, stepping into the entrance foyer, illuminated by dim red lights. He walks down the hall, and down the dark metal staircase into the main floor of the club.

The above head white florescent lights do nothing to take away from the grandeur of the club, though, Hoseok likes it better when it’s late and the lights are off. The main floor is usually accented in lights of blue and red, casting shadows streaking along the sitting area. Embedded into the walls are velvet couches that flow with the design in a sort of snake like shape, a short-legged coffee table and single seated chairs dotted between every inward curve. There’s a wide enough walkway for two people walking side by side to pass, a partition of glass, and on the other side of it, black leather couches and even more glass coffee tables.

 The walls are interesting, and Hoseok thinks this because he doesn’t know why Yoongi likes it so much. In large arched alcoves sits head statues of Greek gods of mortal tales, staring lifelessly into the distance, bathed in dark blue light. Between every two are columns that resembles those of a temple, and smooth grey stone. Hoseok honestly doesn’t know which vibe Yoongi is going for, not that he’d say it to his face.

He walks down the little walkway, down another set of stairs and across the dance floor. The bar is tucked in a corner, glasses being wiped by one of Yoongi’s employees behind it. Hoseok offers the man a nod of his head, moving towards the staircase that curves with the wall and upwards.

Yoongi’s office veers just off the VIP lounge, set behind large mahogany doors. And Hoseok doesn’t bother knocking. The room looks pretty much the same as it’s always had: dark walls with darker patterns, a maroon carpet lining the floor, abstract paintings hanging on the walls that allude to a darker nature, and in the far corner on the wall between two paintings is a golden blade dagger behind a mounted glass case.

“...Pick your side, kid. It’s either you’re with me, or against me.” Yoongi’s voice is cold, not angry per se, but reeking in annoyance that chills rather than burns. “And trust me when I say that you don’t want me as your enemy. I don’t play nice.”

There’s a young man standing in front of Yoongi’s large desk, his hands behind his back where one hand squeezes the other in bouts of nervous jitter. There are bruises on his knuckles, and even from behind, Hoseok could tell that he’s trying to fit into a crowd that doesn’t suit him. Haegeum isn’t just a club but a base of operations so to speak, in the middle of this high-end city, its easy for Yoongi to wrack up a certain clientele. People who seek a different ease of mind and has a different lifestyle.

Hoseok leans against the door, watching the scene play out, as the young man bows slightly and Yoongi waves his hand at him.

“Keep shadowing Seonghwa and Hongjoong for the week, and I don’t want any trouble this time.” He says dismissively, and the boy turns to leave. As Hoseok catches his eye, something akin to a bolt of lightening shoots down his spine. It isn’t noticeable to the more ordinary folk, but Hoseok isn’t ordinary, and neither are Yoongi and the rest of his boys. 

The air crackles with static, raw, untrained power that itches Hoseok the wrong way. The boy stands there clearly a moment too long, and Yoongi’s knuckles raps against the table top. “Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun gives a soft apology, and quickly walks towards the door. Hoseok opens it for him, not out of kindness, but purely to give him a long unbroken stare. He smiles as the boy struggles to hold his gaze, even as the hair on the back of his neck stands on end at his proximity.

When he shuts the door behind him, Yoongi is already watching him with a raised brow. Hoseok wanders over to the leather armchair at the front of Yoongi’s desk and sits, shifting around until he’s comfortable in it. “I thought they were a myth.”

“Obviously they’re not.” Yoongi mutters, shaking his head as he sieves through a stack of papers scattered on his desk before he finds what he’s looking for. “Kid wanted in, so I let him. More trouble than it’s worth, honestly. But, the Nephilim are stronger than the order, so I gave it a shot.”

Hoseok hums, and Yoongi seems to catch himself, narrowing his eyes at him. The scar that runs through his right eye looks pink and irritated in the motion and the overhead lights. “What are you doing here?”

“What? I can’t visit?”

If Yoongi narrows his eyes any more, he’d close them, “I think you know better than anyone that you’re never here.” He says, “You’re absent more often than not, so I have the right to ask. Did you do something? I’m not cleaning up any more of your messes.”

Yoongi pushes back his chair, walking across the room to the mini bar he has tucked in the corner. He pulls a glass from the cabinet and pours himself a glass of whisky from a long necked crystalline bottle. He takes a sip and turns leaning against the bar’s edge. “Last time was enough trouble.”

“You’d clean it up anyways.” Hoseok says, leaning his head back against the chair, tilting his head to look at Yoongi. “I found something fun to do.”

Yoongi stares at him for a moment, quiet, contemplative, “Causing a different type of trouble, I see.” He chuckles, “Don’t break her.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Hoseok smirks, and then frowns a little. With all Yoongi’s prowess and danger, he’s gone a little soft around the edges, and he could see that softness in his eyes as he looks off into the distance. Surely thinking about the mortal girl that has him wrapped around her little fingers like bubble gum.

“You’ll learn.” Yoongi says cryptically, and it reminds Hoseok that he’s never really sure what Yoongi is thinking. Sometimes he’s an open book and Hoseok could read him like one, easy to figure out in the way that he moves, and sometimes he’s sealed tight.

Yoongi drains his glass of whisky, setting it down with a clink on the bar top before walking back over to his desk. “Since you’re here...” He opens a drawer and pulls out a thick black file, “Give this to Seonghwa.”

Hoseok takes the file and opens it, reading over the contents. There’s a man on Yoongi’s black list that’s due a checking in. “You let him and Joong have all the fun.”

“You’re too messy.” Yoongi retorts, “I said I’m not cleaning up after you.”

Hoseok shrugs, and gets up, skirting around the back of the chair and walking towards the door.

“Hobi.” Yoongi calls, “I don’t have to remind you that there’s a meeting at the end of the month, right?”

“I’ll be here.” Hoseok says, as the look in Yoongi’s eyes gave no room to say anything else.

He leaves the office, closing the door behind him with a quiet click and lets the tension roll off his shoulders. He goes back the way he came, black file in hand, towards the VIP section where he knows Seonghwa would be lurking. He walks down the little walkway, through the identical couches and tables on raised platforms that overlook the main floor of the club.

At the end, there’s a small section of booths, black velvet and low lit, and standing with his back to him is Hongjoong. He seems to be busy, twin pistols in pieces on the booth’s table, cleaning supplies set up neatly in a little row. Hoseok saunters over, and throws his arm over the man’s shoulders.

Hongjoong doesn’t spare him a glance but sighs softly through his nose. “I’m busy, Hoseok.”

“Where’s your shadow?” Hoseok asks, and waves the file at him, “Yoongi has work for you two.”

“When doesn’t Yoongi have work for us.” Hongjoong slides away from under Hoseok’s arm, sitting down in the booth to avoid him all together. There’s a dull glint of light as the fixtures catch on the gold diamond studded crucifix that swings against the white of Hongjoong’s tee-shirt.

Hoseok clicks his tongue against his teeth, “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

The dark bangs of his hair, which are usually styled away from his forehead, falls into his eyes when he glances upward at Hoseok. He picks up the cleaning solvent and pours a bit of it into the cap before dropping a cotton patch in to let it soak, then, he wraps the patch around the bristles of a small bore brush.

“Seonghwa isn’t here, he’s out back.” Hongjoong picks up the dismantled gun barrel, sliding the bore brush through until the now dirty cotton patch pokes out from the other end. The scent of the solvent burns Hoseok’s nose, and he leaves Hongjoong be, going back down to the main floor and through the emergency exit. The exit sits in the middle of an alleyway that connects two streets, and Hoseok catches sight of Seonghwa’s faux fur coat on one end.

Smoke curls away from his form with a light wind and brings the scent of a cigarette as Hoseok walks with quiet steps towards him. He’s laughing at something, phone in hand, and Hoseok drops his hand heavily on his shoulder and feels the way he immediately tenses.

“I’ve told you one too many times, Seonghwa.” Hoseok says, stepping to the side and around him, “Always be on your guard.”

There’s a glint in the way that he sneers, pulling away from Hoseok’s grip. He takes a couple steps back, watching Hoseok as though he spat at his feet.

“Aw, don’t look at me like that. Makes me all tingly.” Hoseok teases mockingly with a smile, and then offers the file to him. “Here.”

Seonghwa shoves his phone into the pocket of his coat, taking the file and looking through it. He takes one last drag of the cigarette between his fingers before tossing it. He raises a perfect brow at Hoseok and tilts his head, something like amusement in his eyes. “You don’t show up for weeks, and now you’re just Yoongi’s errand boy.”

Hoseok chuckles and it’s dark, low in his throat. “Seonghwa.” He takes a step closer, “Don’t forget your place.”

It’s irritating how Seonghwa doesn’t back down, the way he looks at Hoseok as though he’s beneath him. He stands tall and proud with his chest puffed out like a peacock, and Hoseok knows he’s about to say something stupid without using that brain of his first.

“Don’t act like we’re not in the same boat.” Seonghwa scoffs, and even before he opens his mouth, Hoseok could see the thought in his eyes, glowing like an ember in the dark. He sees the minute curl at the corner of his mouth and the glow of the street light that catches on the pretty studded silver of his teeth. “You got your ward killed, and killed the man that killed her. There’s no hierarchy among murderers.”

Hoseok takes a breath, and he feels the heat rising from the tips of his toes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the images he’s locked away floods out of the steel box he’s put them in. The little girl he’d been guardian to, her short, miserable and painful life. Found end at the hands of someone she had the misfortune of being born to. It was too late – he was too late, when he’d found her. And just like then, Hoseok sees red.

Warm, gushing red that spill into the creases of his fingers when he swings his fist at Seonghwa’s face. The black file and the papers within scatter on the wind.

Hoseok doesn’t let the surprise and force send the younger man stumbling back too far, and grabs hold of the front of his coat, curling his fingers into the material tightly. He kicks at his knee, and when he’s forced to kneel, Hoseok leans down to his height.

“You talk a lot of shit for someone who lost his wings for something so trivial; your sin and mine are two different things.” Hoseok sneers, and he’s so mad he could set Seonghwa on fire and watch him dance. “But I can remind you exactly why Yoongi doesn’t bother to have me involved.”

Someone pulls Seonghwa back, dragging him up to his feet. “The fuck are you two doing?”

There’s a tick in Seonghwa’s jaw that doesn’t go unnoticed and his eyes stay locked with Hoseok as he straightens. He should think twice, Hoseok knows he knows better.

Hongjoong shoves at Seonghwa’s shoulder, “Go pick that shit up.”

Yeonjun stands at the open doorway of the emergency exit, watching with wide eyes, looking like he’s halfway to backing out on his choice to get into Yoongi’s ranks. Hongjoong eyes Hoseok warily, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Seonghwa was doing as told.

Hoseok’s gaze burns a hole into the back of Seonghwa’s head as he moves around to pick up the scattered papers while Hongjoong stands like a watchdog.

Hoseok shoves his hands into the pockets of his black coat, tilting his head back to stare at the sky. “You boys be good, now.” He says in parting, turning on his heel and walking out of the alley.

“What the fuck did you say to him?...”

Hoseok walks up the street, through the throngs of people still waiting to get into Haegeum. His phone vibrates in his coat pocket, with a sigh he pulls it out and answers.

“Yes, Cheol?”

“Hey, remember when you asked me to tell you when I’ve seen that weird fog?” Seungcheol sounds distracted, there’s a sharp sound from his end that has Hoseok pulling the phone away from his ear with a wince. He says something to someone else, voice too far away for Hoseok to catch, before he speaks again. “Couple of nights ago, it was in my area. Whatever’s in it is pretty good at hiding. It’s not the only thing in it either.”

Hoseok crosses the street, going in the opposite direction of which he came from. The people that line the sidewalk give him a wide berth as he weaves through them; unconsciously reacting to him being near.

“Didn’t see much of the guy, some twinky-looking redhead.” Cheol sighs, “I think the fog is like a domain. If you get lost in it, it’s like there’s no-one in there but you. Like a mirror realm.”

‘They who fight monsters should be careful, lest they become a monster themselves.  And if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.’

What defines a monster? Something that goes beyond human comprehension, something that stands outside the bounds of what is morally accepted. Something that a person fails to understand and is therefore scared by. Something that make stories entertaining because they’re meant to be defeated in the end. They’re meant to be slain and mounted like trophies, pinned up for grotesque display of heroism.

What defines a creature that goes beyond human comprehension? White coloured morals and the freedom to help in the way it needed. He stopped being what he was created to be, and instead became something that someone needed the most. He did everything right. He had his head in the right place, he was determined to see it through to the end.

He was a little too late.

Over the years, Hoseok could no longer recall just how late he was. If it was by seconds or minutes, or an hour by a half. When he was finally strong enough to move, he traced the memory of a place he’d seen for years, all the way to a house where his charge waited inside.

She was always afraid. Alone, trapped with a monster of man’s making. A child he’s watched since the moment of her birth, watched her grow to be afraid and the light never reach her. By the laws of his nature he was forced to do nothing.

He was restricted to assisting in the only way he could. He couldn’t shield her physically, so he instead manipulated the monster in her closet. He made sure that his mind was changed, that he didn’t swing his claws as fiercely, that he slept deeply so that the child can have a night of rest.

He started to question, as he watched the monster that called himself a father, prey upon what he was meant to protect.

What’s the point? Is he not allowed to stop this? Why can’t he stop this? He could stop it because he has the power to do so.

The ideology was shared by another, and together, hubris.

Hoseok fell with pride; he fell with the intention to seek his ward out and help her. Even if he had no idea what was to come afterwards. Stripped of his grace and the feathers of his wings burned away, it didn’t matter to him.

He went as quickly as his wounds allowed, which in retrospect, wasn’t quickly enough. She was only six. An awfully short time to the likes of him, even shorter to mortals, not enough time to live and laugh – she wasn’t allowed to even do that. He’d stood there, in the broken doorway of a broken home and watched as the monster of his ward’s nightmare became a man before him. Hoseok’s vision had tunnelled and in the centre was the broken body of the child he’d sworn to protect.

When the shadows on the walls grew tall and Hoseok’s mind closed in on itself and allowed those shadows to encase him, the man cried. He pleaded on his knees at the sight of his reckoning, begged for mercy when he gave none.

Then, Hoseok shattered. Scattered like tiny specs of dust floating on the wind, and under the heat and pressure of his own realisations, he turned into glass. With his sharp edges he cut into the man and reveled in it. The sounds of his pleas like the gentle strum of a harp’s string, and the warmth of his blood was a bath Hoseok sunk into.

What he was, was something that was no longer needed, and with his hands covered in blood and gore and mess he held tight to his reasons for being and cried for her. He became something else that only protected himself. While he locked everything away and allowed the shadows to stay. The light he’s trapped struggles to glow, to breathe, and some days Hoseok wants to snuff it out for good, to become the shadows he plays in.

He wouldn’t allow himself to reach that point, though. He still has a sense of himself, however skewed.

He owes Yoongi a lot, his partner in crime that he would follow to the ends of the earth. He never turned his back on him even as Hoseok changed to suit his troubles.

Hoseok remembers Yoongi standing at the doorway, catching up much later than he had. He stayed there quietly while Hoseok mourned the death of his ward and his tears made tracks in the blood that coated him.

Hoseok buried her away from her cursed home, far away and as deep as the roots of an old oak runs and salt floats on the air. Wild flowers bloom there, giving her the beauty in death she wasn’t allowed in life.

His chest aches as he stands there now. Under the shade of the oak tree where little speckles of the setting orange sun spills through leaves and dances along the space that he occupies. There’s a crinkle of plastic and Hoseok stares at the small bouquet in his grip. He chose every flower that reminded him of her: daises and lavender, lilies and snapdragons.

He lays it gently on the patch of grass that’s long grown over between two large protruding roots, mutters the same apology he does every time he comes by, and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat as he straightens.

He’s sorry he wasn’t there in time.

He wished she was given a chance, and wondered if her death was his punishment. He wonders what it would’ve been like to watch her grow, safe and happy. What her favourite flower would’ve been, if she would’ve valued the little things. He would’ve given her everything – pulled the moon from the sky if she so desired it. He would’ve taken the stars and put them in her little hands for her to watch them shine.

He wonders if it would’ve been better had he waited a little longer. That maybe the slightest change would’ve brought about a different outcome.

Hoseok sighs, turns his head to watch the sun set, dragged behind the ocean’s edge far off in the distance. Something at the back of his mind wiggles and tugs. He knows something’s wrong and he’s in no mood to deal with it.

You’re dying...you think. Your hand slides against the floor and it takes a moment to realise it’s your blood you’re slipping in. You can barely feel the rest of your body, adrenaline pumping your blood out of the wounds at your back. The doors of the elevator doubles and swarms in your vision.

You see them open but it’s so hard to focus. Hoseok steps out and walks slowly to you, you can’t see his expression, but you faintly hear the long, drawn-out sigh he releases. Your eyes focus on the darkness that surrounds him, the way it curls like smoke. The shadows at his back are clearer to you than they’ve ever been – wings. Dark plumage that glitters with something silver in the light, the feathers are long, long enough that they drag behind his steps. If he were to unfold them they would easily span to the ends of the hallway.

He hardly gives you a glance, stopping in front of you. You can’t see the creature now – blocked by Hoseok’s wings – but you hear it growl, and the scraping of it’s claws against the floor. Something glints in his hand against the flickering lights, a short sword that looks like it was dipped in gold from the hilt and it ran down the edges of the blade.

He’s a blur as he moves and your tired eyes can barely keep up with him, if it weren’t for the small space and shadows his wings casted you would’ve lost sight of him completely. 

The creature snarls and lashes out with its razor-sharp claws, but Hoseok is already one step ahead, dodging with effortless grace. He moves with a speed and agility that seems impossible in the space he occupies, closing in on the creature that growls and snarls at him. It’s forced to dislodge itself from the doorway, pulling back into the stairwell that gives it even less room to defend.

Hoseok’s wings fold tightly to his back as he follows, and you could only hear the sound of his weapon sliding through the air, the sound of the blade whistling and the increasingly irritated sounds from the creature. Hoseok ducks under a swiped claw, makes a spin on his knee, and switches the hands that holds his blade. It slices through the creature’s gigantic paw like it’s made of something soft, and through the other as it comes back down. The severed limb drops heavily on the ground before it dissolves into ashes and float upward.

The sound it makes grate on your ears, loud and sharp and you can’t bring your hands up to cover them, something warm trickles out of each.

Without it’s two front legs to support it’s weight, the creature drops forward, and Hoseok grabs hold of the first spike at the top of its head. With a flick of his wrist his weapon spins in his palm and he points the blade right between the creature’s eyes and pushes.

Golden light flashes, nearly blinding you on top of everything else, you can just barely hear the cry it makes this time as it writhes in agony. It’s monstrous form twists and contorts before finally collapsing to the ground in a heap.

Hoseok stands over the fallen beast, his weapon clenched tightly in his hand, watching intently as it’s body dissipates like ash from a fire.

With a satisfied nod, Hoseok sheaths his weapon and it vanishes, and then turns his attention back to you, his expression a mixture of something. You can’t tell, everything seems so dark and it’s hard to breathe. He approaches you slowly, his movements cautious as he assesses the extent of your injuries.

Hoseok crouches and you slowly look up at him, he tilts his head and clicks his tongue against his teeth.

“I told you not to go anywhere, little dove.” He says softly, calmly, as though he’s telling you about his day and you’re not bleeding out in his hallway. “You’re so troublesome.”

You try to respond, but the words stick in your throat, drowned out by the rush of blood and the overwhelming sense of impending darkness. Hoseok’s presence feels both comforting and ominous, his wings casting elongated shadows that dance across the walls. You try to focus on his face, to find some semblance of reassurance in his eyes, but all you see is a blur of shadows and flickering light.

“I’m sorry,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own laboured breathing.

Hoseok’s expression softens slightly, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes. He reaches out a hand to gently brush the hair from your forehead, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the underlying tension in the air.

“Jesus...” Another voice says, the sound of footsteps hurrying close and the last thing you see is the shift of the hallway.

The night he found you out in the fog wasn’t the first time Hoseok had seen you.

By now, it would’ve been at least three months ago. You were alone, pacing around like a worried mother on a bridge over your perceived peace – had you decided to take it.

Human lives were no longer any concern to him; no consequence. He and his kind were here before and would be long after your kind has crumbled to dust and returned to the earth. He stopped then, and watched you contemplate the height of the bridge and the chill of the water below it; whether or not you’ll receive the mercy you seek. You’d cried for a long time on that bridge.

Hoseok is many things, but cruel is not one of them. He changed your mind and sent you away into the arms of someone that would care.

Hoseok has many contradictions. The darkness that he allowed entry fights the light, beating it into a corner where it cowers on most days. On those days he’s distant and struggling to contain it, he could taste malice on his tongue and the bitterness of it. The steel walls he painstakingly built with bloody and broken fingers are nothing more than barbwire fences; they do nothing to protect the glass figurines that make him whole.

Sometimes the glass are shards, sharp and unforgiving and willing to cut anything that gets too close. Sometimes they’re splintered panes and Hoseok is cutting his fingers to keep them in place. He curls in on himself, draws himself away, pushes everything outside his barbwire fence and tries to reinforce the walls. The darkness that swirls outside it seeps in and he can’t keep it out so he lets it fester and churn and he becomes intangible.

You weren’t there, and then, at some point, you were.

Sometimes...

Sometimes he’s standing in a grass field full of wild daises and the sun is warm and there’s salt in the air. The light peeks through the leaves of an old oak tree, and there’s a little girl who’s placed her life in his hands, who skitters about in the  grass like something wild and free. She glows in her happiness, and nature stains her hands and the bottom of her white dress. She makes faces at him behind the trunk of the tree, smiles and hold his hands and tell him that it’s okay. It wasn’t his fault and he’s forgiven, he could let it go and be.

On those days, Hoseok feels like a still pool of water. The ones with lily pads and life, and everything’s alright. You’re always there then.

Hoseok knows of the fragility of humans. How easily they could shatter and break and suddenly be no more. He was something once, and then he became something else, and sometimes it’s hard to not be what he is. His darker nature prevails, and he doesn’t do much to stop it. Sure, sometimes he’s done things simply because he’s feeling particularly malicious and thinks that everyone should suffer – it’s almost always harmless.

He has a sense of himself, he knows when to stop, when things are taken too far and you can’t take much more of it. You eventually learnt to take it in stride and Hoseok was proud of that, though, a part of him thought it wasn’t nearly as fun anymore.

He would walk your dreams some nights when he was bored and had nothing better to entertain himself, his presence would sometimes bring his darkness and your dreams would not be as pleasant. He tried to walk through them less often.

When you were jumping at every little sound, the silence that Hoseok moves with and the way you’re less of yourself some days – he realised something. Not every nightmare was his doing, and the whispers in the walls of your dreams spoke of something else entirely.

The far, fuzzy edges of your vivid dreams where he’s reminded of things he’s tried very hard to lock away, lurks something red and more sinister than he.

He’s every reason to believe that hellspawn didn’t find it’s way here on accident, and for it to go undetected until the very last moment. It bothers him like nothing else has.

Though you lay peaceful now and Seungcheol had left after doing what he does best, the unease lingers in bouts under Hoseok’s skin, skittering about like electricity on a wire. His feelings where you’re concerned contradicts each other. Like oil on water he’s stuck in between wanting you close and keeping you at arm’s length. He likes when you’re near, but he likes when you’re far. A consequence of his nature, he toes the line of something sinister and could get dangerous and down right evil if he doesn’t reign himself in.

At a point he wasn’t quite sure what to do with you. He was just as confused on why he stopped you from ending your own life that night on the bridge and why he took you in that night in the fog. At first, he was just as wary of you as you were of him, despite the way he acted. He can’t help what he is.

On the days where he feels like splintered glass and he’s choking on his despair, you’d waited. You were there until the smoke cleared and your quiet presence helped put the glass back up and straighten out the posts in his fence.

He told Yoongi, there’s no fun in not breaking you. Yoongi said that he’d learn.

He can’t help what he is.

He could try, though.

He doesn’t want to break you, it’s a matter of cause and effect. You’re here with him, evidently, you’d be broken regardless. The most he could do is try. He could try to not be the straw, and try to not let outside forces become it.

He cares. He cares so much that sometimes he could taste it on his tongue. He cares that you smile when he’s earned it, that you eat well, that you greet him like a friend and then somewhere along get shy when you do. He cares if you live or die.

Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut, opening them to blink away the image of you, helplessly laying in a pool of your own blood.

Fear. He’s has only felt it once, the fear that you would die and he would’ve failed again to protect someone.

He sips slowly at his glass of whisky, drinking in the sight of you. He thought you were smart enough to listen to him at least, trusted that you would stay out until he got back. Perhaps it was his mistake, but he wonders, and he ponders as you give a minute twitch in your sleep. Your eyebrows draw together and you murmur something unintelligible.

Hoseok sets his tumbler on your bedside drawer and pulls his chair closer. This is something he could easily do from another room, though, for what he’s about to do he would need to be touching you in some capacity.

Your dream had started off vividly, as most of your dreams have since you came here. Hoseok stands just in the corner of it, watching you wake within your dream and put your feet down into water.

He walks along the edge of it, watching it play out like a simulation, following behind you as you make your way down the hall towards the living room. He’s there and Hoseok isn’t surprised – it’s not the first time you’ve dreamt him.

He watches as your dreamscape version of him pull you into his lap and he feels a little offended and rolls his eyes – he didn’t even try to make it look sexy. Is this what you think of him? He isn’t half as tactless. Seduction takes finesse, and you clearly have no idea what that is.

Hoseok turns, gazing at the darkened edges of your dream.

There’s a shift and he feels it. It’s heavy like a wet blanket and seeps in like mist, and your dream changes accordingly.

He knows this feeling too well – the intrusion of an external force manipulating the dream, it’s faint enough that he knows it wasn’t in his apartment or anywhere nearby, but strong enough to reach so far.

Hoseok hovers hesitantly between the doorway of the living room and the hallway, and closes his eyes against the image of him hurting you.

He follows you as you follow blood, and he wishes you weren���t so frightened. He stays close to you, stepping where you’ve stepped as though he could protect you from something that’s already occurred. You push the door to your bedroom open and he wants to stop you, turn you around and shake you awake, but he can only watch.

You’re there and he is too, whispers skittering along the walls like mice, and Hoseok yanks himself out of your subconscious mind.

He feels like glass.

When you wake it’s dark and your back is sore like you fell from a high place and splatted against a body of water. The moment feels like déjà vu regardless as you swing your legs over the side of the bed with a wince.

The broken projector of your sleep-addled mind flickers in black and white cut scene imagines of the evening. Hoseok, the fog, the dog that crawled out of hell specifically for you – as you can only assume – things considered, you’re pretty certain you died at some point.

The dark unnerves you, it makes you feel like a kid as you pull your feet back up onto the bed, and pull the blanket up over your head and pulled tight between your fingers at your chest.

You scoot back, wiggling a bit until your back is pressed flush against the headboard. There’s no light seeping in from under your door, and you sink lower, curling into yourself and hold the blanket tighter.

There’s a prickling at the back of your neck that sends a shiver racing down your spine. Your head turns slowly to the left and notice the unnatural darkness of the space between the edge of the wall and the window pane. Relief blooms in your chest at the sight of it.

“...Hoseok.” You call softly, waving a hand into the dark. You wait for a moment, but the lights don’t come on and he doesn’t appear as he usually would.

Carefully, you unwrap the covers from around you and place your foot on the ground. Taking a moment, you count your fingers – it’s always hard to count them in your dreams. All ten are there, and you take a breath before standing.

The floor is cold, and you notice the carpet that’s usually under your feet is missing, and the silhouettes of the things you’ve made yours are different; this isn’t your room.

You approach the ball of chaos carefully, and stand five steps away from the space it occupies. This is the second time you’ve been close to it, the first time had been much closer and you hadn’t understood it then. You reach a hand out, and gently: “Hoseok...”

It slows, the shadows and wisps shifting gently like a leaf on a soft wind. It elongates into a vague outline and then, Hoseok stares through you before he sees you. He’s still wearing the clothes he left in earlier, coat and all, looking a little more than rattled even in the dark.

He raises a hand and it hovers by your cheek, thumb ghosting the skin like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. The lights didn’t come back on and it’s hard to decipher his emotions in the dark.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft, barely a whisper in the darkness. Somewhere behind you, a lamp flickers on dimly and Hoseok looks like he’d shatter if you touched him.

“I’m okay.”

Hoseok’s hand drops slowly from your face as he blinks, as though waking from a dream. His gaze focuses on you, but there’s a vacancy in his eyes. For a moment, he seems almost confused, as if he’s not sure how he ended up here or what to make of your presence.

His touch is light, gentle, like he’s handling something fragile when his fingers brushes yours. You feel his fear, a palpable thing, thick and heavy. It’s a side of him you’ve never seen before, and you’re not sure what to do with it.

He exhales softly through his nose, nods once and then his eyes are somewhere above your head. “Are you in pain?”

“No,” Your back sings a low hymn, achy and sore, but it’s nothing to fuss over. “I’m okay.”

There’s a lot of things you want to ask, but you can’t seem to pick one. You want to ask him about the fog and the creature, about his wings or how you’re even alive to mull over said questions.

Instead, you ask: “Are you okay?”

Hoseok looks unprepared for that, his eyes snapping back to yours and he flounders. His mouth opens and closes before he stares at you in that unnerving way he had your first couple of days here, like he’s trying to understand you. Like he could strip you down to atoms and see what makes you act the way you do and therefore comprehend the bases of your human nature.

“I’m...” He blinks, looks away, and a muscle beneath his right eye twitches, “I’m okay.”

He doesn’t sound convinced and you aren’t either, and where his hand brushes yours you reach out first. His fingers are cold and he looks down, staring at your hand like it’s something foreign, but his grip tightens. It’s quiet for a moment, he takes a breath that doesn’t seem to ease the weight he carries.

“You almost died.” He says quietly, brows furrowed as though he can’t understand his own concern. “When I brought you here...I did so with the intention to keep you safe.”

It’s quiet again and you wait, and wait.

Hoseok’s eyes mist, his breath shudders on the exhale. “I wasn’t here in time. Again. I—”

His hand in yours tremble, he’s looking through you again, not entirely here and he looks like a man haunted by ghosts he alone could see. You stumble a step back when he falls to his knees before you, but didn’t get far as his arms wound tight around your waist. There’s something strange about a creature such as him with all his prowess and tainted grace kneeling at your feet, and his words tumble from his mouth like his tears that soak into your borrowed shirt and he lets you hold the chain that drags behind him.

The weight is heavy, heavy enough that it grounds you and you listen to it rattle as Hoseok tells you everything. In a broken tone about a broken home and a child he couldn’t reach in time to save, about the shadows that he let hide the light and now he struggles to find it. The things he’s done since that would make the most wicked men cower.

You make the connection, as he lays himself bare before you. He peeled back the layers of his being himself and let you look inside; the bases of his nature, the connotations of his own sins. It makes sense to you now. The way he would change like the tide and his near obsessive, compulsive need to wrap you in bubble wrap and put you in a glass case. He’d long stopped scaring you and somehow became a comfort despite himself.

Maybe it’s circumstantial, or something else entirely, but you’ve grown to care for him and he’s been caring for you from the start. However skewed that was.

When he’s stopped his babbling, and he’s no longer crying, he still holds you tight, whispering apologies against the dampness of your shirt. You meet his height, gently pulling his arms away from you and you kneel, too. He blinks away the last of his tears and you catch them with your thumbs just under his red-rimmed eyes.

He’s no longer looking through you, one of his hands covers yours, his lips brushing delicately against your wrist when he turns his head; your heart flutters. He whispers something you didn’t catch, he closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them, he repeats: “You can leave if you want.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Will you stay, then?” He looks away when he asks, pressing his fingers against your palm in a way that tickles and distracts, and studies the lines of them quietly. “Stay here with me.”

There’s something like hope in his eyes that glints against the shadows that linger, shining like flecks gold in cracked rock. You nod slowly and he smiles easily, all teeth and heart shaped and his hand is warm when he cups your cheek with the one that isn’t holding yours.

“Your dream...” He says softly, and later you’d find that it troubled him the most; he would never do something like that – not to you. “I’m sorry.”

You store the fact that he knows about it at the back of your mind for later – later when he’s not pressing the pad of his thumb against the fullness of your bottom lip, tracing the shape of it. You’ve learnt to ebb and flow with him, a boat on his tide, taking the shift of his mood in stride.

There’s something in his eyes now that has nothing to do with how you found him earlier, something that makes you follow his lead, leaning in when he pulls you towards him. Deja vu accompanies the way he shifts, easing back and turning you as he does, leaning against a dresser you hadn’t noticed. He keeps his eyes locked with yours, directing your leg over his with a hand, and he settles you on his lap.

“This feels familiar.” He giggles, lifting his head to nose along your jaw and you’re reminded that he knows. Heat flares at the back of your neck and races up your ears, and when you push against his shoulders, he steadies and keeps you still with his hands on the top of your thighs and a click of his tongue against his teeth.

“I’m teasing.” He gives a crooked smile, tilting his head, “It’s cute that you think it’ll play out that way.”

“Isn’t it, though?” You blurt out, embarrassment forgotten. Honestly, the only thing that’s changed is the room, and when Hoseok pauses you smirk.

He smirks right back, something dangerous, and he chuckles, “Keep talking back. I like that.”

His hand slides up your back, and you don’t suppress the shiver that follows after it. The air grows heavy, charged with unspoken tension. You’re vaguely aware of your heart pounding, the rhythm matching the erratic thrum of your blood. He leaves a kiss where your jaw meets your neck, sucking lightly on the spot.

“Hoseok...” You start to say his name, but it comes out as a breathless whisper. You’re not sure what you intended to say, but the words get caught in your throat.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “What is it?” he asks, his voice rough with desire and darker still. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head, unable to form words.

With a low growl, he takes your silence as an invitation, his fingers tangle in your hair, and he tilts your head down, his lips meeting yours in a kiss you gasp into. It quickly deepens, becoming more urgent, as if he’s trying to devour your very soul. His other hand finds your hip, squeezing possessively.

You’re lost in the sensation, the taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against yours. The world has narrowed to the two of you, to this moment.

A soft moan escapes your lips, and he takes that as a cue, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that sets your entire being ablaze.

His touch ignites a fire within you, consuming your senses and leaving you breathless, his hand sliding from your hip to your lower back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

He pulls away slowly and you chase, he smirks against your kiss, and when he lifts his hips you feel the press of his arousal. His kisses trail, ghosting along your jaw, his tongue warm where your pulse thrums. He directs the shifts of your hips, grinding you down against clothed erection with a curse growled against your skin.

You follow the light tug of his hand in your hair, tilting your head back and to the side to give him more room to work. He hums appreciatively around your skin between his teeth and you hiss softly at the sting of the pull.

“So good for me.” He whispers when he pulls away. His fingers tap at your hip before he wraps his arm around, bracing the other against the dresser behind and stands easily.

A startled squeak leaves you, wrapping your arms around his neck even though he’s holding you steady. He reaches the bed in two strides, and drops you there, a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

You bounce a bit amongst the soft sheets with a soft giggle before you settle. His index finger curls beneath your chin and tilts, thumb brushing along your bottom lip again, “Ah.”

You comply easily, and then his thumb is pressing against your tongue. Saliva pools in your mouth and he hums when you wrap your lips around the digit. There’s a tick of his brow and the dull glint of his teeth when he smiles in the dim light of the singular lamp, and a darkness in his eyes that doesn’t scare you.

He tests the boundaries of what you’d allow, sliding his thumb along your tongue. His palm lays flat against your cheek, thumb reaching far until you feel the lurch of your stomach and pull back with a gasp.

He coos softly, leaning down just as he slips his finger out of your mouth to capture your lips in a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything else. He nudges you back softly, large hands sneaking their way under your tee to reach your skin, desperate in a way that makes you think he’d die if he doesn’t.

He stops just shy of the undersides of your breasts, pulling away from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. His breaths are shallow, he whispers your name, “I can get intense.”

“I know.”

“I could hurt you.”

“I know.”

He studies you for a moment, then, tugs gently on the hem of your tee-shirt, “Up.”

As you shift to sit, you’re not surprised to find you aren’t wearing anything underneath the tee-shirt and cotton shorts he’s put you in; dressing you properly must’ve been the last thing on his mind.

Hoseok stands back to shed his coat, dropping it carelessly on the floor. There’s a metallic clink as the buckle of his belt jingles, and the sound of it racing through the loops of his pants.

You – oddly – don’t feel ashamed under his gaze that sets a heat wherever it settles as he roams over your exposed upper half. Putting your weight on your hands, you lean back, watching Hoseok roll the long sleeves of his tee-shirt up his forearms.

His tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he closes the distance again, climbing into the bed on his knees and coming up until they’re on either side of your thighs. Silently he trails a finger down the slope of your neck, it tickles across your collarbone and his fingers spread and palms your left breast.

Your breath hitches and he chuckles, and you know very well he could feel the shifting of your thighs as you rub them together seeking friction. It’s been ages since anyone’s touched you like this, all of Hoseok’s teasing isn’t doing you much good.

His lips meet yours, licking into your mouth, and he groans when you suck on his tongue. His fingers lightly pinch at your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand roams, goosebumps following it’s path down your side and stops where his fingers tease the band of your shorts.

Your hips buck as you whine and Hoseok pulls away, eyelids heavy, pupils all but gone, panting softly; looking drunk on you.

He smiles and makes a disapproving sound at the back of his throat. “Patience little dove.” He tuts, tilting his head at you, “I’ll give you what you need.”

He trails his fingers along the edges of your shorts before pulling them down and off, leaving you exposed to his touch. His hair tickles where it drags against your sensitive skin as he moves downward. He avoids where you need him most entirely and you squirm, a soft whine building in your chest.

He kisses and licks his way up your thighs, teasing you until you’re begging. Gently, he spreads your legs, kissing the inner thigh of your right before he rests it over his shoulder, pushing your other up and holding it there with a palm.

His dark gaze meets yours and you can’t hold it when he licks a hot stripe from your weeping entrance to your clit. Your hand shoots down to grip his hair, back arching when his responding growl vibrates against your core.

With each stroke of his tongue, Hoseok explores every inch of your most sensitive areas. He laps at your clit, drawing out a series of gasps and moans that fill the room. You’re shaking and swearing as he eats you out like a man starved, his tongue swirling around your clit in figure eights and then dipping into you. He moans like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Your hands curl into the sheets, fingers digging in as if to anchor yourself. You’re lost in the sensations, a whirlwind of pleasure that leaves you breathless. And you wonder, briefly, if this was just something he was good at or something he had to hone.

His arm draping over your hips was the only warning you got before his lips wraps around your clit and sucks. Your back arches with a pitched moan and he slips a finger into your heat, and groans when you clench and gasp his name.

Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat a reminder of your vulnerability. Yet, paradoxically, it’s this vulnerability that fuels your desire, pushing you to new heights. You’re a wild thing now, driven by pure, primal need.

From between your legs, Hoseok watches your reactions, a dark-haired god feasting on your pleasure. His gaze is intense, a silent promise that he’ll take you to the edge. He adds another finger and they curl against your g-spot and it brings about your undoing.

If your arousal was a fire, Hoseok just threw gasoline on it just to watch it explode. He keeps hips lips around your clit as it throbs, fingers dragging along your fluttering walls and your eyes squeeze shut. You could barely breathe, lights dancing behind your eyelids as you gasp his name.

“Good girl.” Hoseok praises, lips brushing your clit and your thighs tremble. He rubs his hand gently over your stomach while you come down, and evilly, bites your thigh with a dark chuckle.

“Hoseok...” you whine as he laves his tongue over the stinging spot.

“Hm?” He smiles, “Want more, little dove?”

You almost cry as he changes course, pulling away entirely, and makes it clear he revel in your suffering when he coos mockingly, standing now.

He slowly unbuttons his pants, slowly pulls his legs out of them one after the other, smirking at you all the while. Even in the dim lighting, you could see the strain his cock against his black boxer briefs and you don’t miss the near inaudible sigh of relief from Hoseok at the change in pressure.

He crooks a finger at you, and shuffles closer as you do. He stands at the edge of the bed, and he sinks his fingers into your hair, brushing it back as you look up at him. He looks down his nose at  you, and raises a brow, “Be a good girl now, dove. Or do I have to teach you?”

“I know how to suck cock you ass.”

Hoseok shrugs, a playful smile shifting his expression as he gently squeezes your cheeks, puckering your lips, “Is all that little mouth good for talking back to me?”

“You said you like that.” You say defiantly.

Hoseok hums, “Have your fun then,” He says, smiling, “Won’t be able to say much in a bit, anyway.” He tugs on your hair, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to signal his impatience.

Funny, he was preaching patience is a virtue a while ago.

You scoff softly, holding your weight with a hand and tugging his boxers down with the other. His cock springs out, long and thick enough that you wonder if it would fit anywhere. It’s flushed red at the tip and leaking pre that beads and dribbles down the underside, and maybe if you focus enough you could just about see the throb of the vein that runs along side. A breath hisses through Hoseok’s teeth when you wrap your fingers around him, his eyes shut and his head tilts back.

Your eyes meet his when you slowly drag your hand down the length of his shaft, teasing him like he did you; turnabout is fair play. His hold in your hair tightens just a bit, eyes narrowing.

“Dangerous game you’re trying to start.” He murmurs, “I don’t take well t – fuck.” He hisses, the word tapering off into a low groan as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

The slightly salty taste of him bursts against your tongue and you hum, twisting your wrist as you bring your hand back up to meet your mouth and follow it down again. The saliva that escapes from the corners of your mouth helps with the glide.

You take a breath through your nose and relax your jaw, taking him in until he hits the back of your throat and you gag. Hoseok’s thighs tense and a stuttered breath leaves him.

“Easy there.” He soothingly runs his fingers through your hair, though it does nothing for the involuntary tears springing at your waterline. You decide to play it safe, not taking more than you can handle. Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind, letting you set your own pace, whispering swears and your praises.

Heat pools in your gut as your head bobs back and forth, your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, swirling around the head every time you pull back.

Slick with spit, your hand strokes the rest of him, and his groans vibrate in your ears. His fingers tighten in your hair, and it’s the only time he directs; holding you still.

“Take a deep breath for me, dove.” You do as told, and as you inhale, Hoseok slowly pushes forward, his cock reaching the back of your throat in no time at all. He groans above you, cock throbbing against your tongue, “There you go.”

He holds you there for a moment, only easing you back when your throat tightens with the need for air. He lets you breathe for a bit before he’s going again, thrusting slowly, once, twice and then holding you still. He keeps you there, cock throbbing at the back of your throat, your nose pressed against the neatly trimmed hair at the base.

When you gag he pulls you back, barely letting you breathe before he’s leaning down to kiss you, catching the string of drool that hangs from your bottom lip with his tongue. He lets you catch your breath, stepping back to pull his tee-shirt over his head and your mouth goes dry at the full expanse of his lithe frame.

Sitting back on your heels, breath a little ragged, you admire the sculpted lines of his body. Every movement is fluid and graceful, his muscles shifting smoothly beneath his skin.

His chest is defined, the faintest sheen of sweat highlighting each ripple of muscle. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders, the way they flex as he moves. There’s a raw, primal energy about him, but it’s tempered by a quiet confidence.

Hoseok comes back to you quickly, cupping your cheek and kissing you fervently, moving with you as you shift back, cock smearing pre-cum along your inner thighs as he slots his narrow hips between them. He nibbles at your bottom lip, fingers sliding through your slick folds before the head of his cock nudges against your entrance.

For a quiet moment he stares then, kisses you tenderly as he breeches. It’s an easy glide, but it stings none the less, and you give an appreciative squeeze to his wrist when he goes slow. The stretch is bearable and soon the slight discomfort dissipates when he bottoms out and gives you a moment.

“Good?” he breathes out, hips pressed flush against yours. The same breath sucked back through his teeth when your walls tightens around him, his cock throbs in response and you keen. He grinds his hips down, pelvis pressing against your swollen clit and the sensation is almost too much and not nearly enough.

He’s close enough that you can run your tongue along his collarbone  and feel him shiver. Leave your own marks there with your teeth and revel in the growl that rumbles in his chest.

He hooks an arm at the back of your knee, pressing it against your chest as he raises and balances his weight. You’re spread open for him, his cock sinks deeper, rubbing against a spot that makes your eyes roll back. He gives shallow thrusts at first, pressing kisses and bruises wherever he could reach.

“Fuck.” Hoseok hisses between his teeth, hips still, palm against your cheek, and he watches you with something other than lust in his eyes. Something gentle as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Look at you, such a good girl. Taking everything I give you.”

His hips snap forward and you cry out, hands gripping the sheets between them at his sinful groan. He keeps a relentless pace, and you could feel him everywhere. His fingers on your skin, leaving you cold and hot at the same time, gripping your hips so tightly you fear they’ll bruise. It would simply add to the ones he’s already placed, scattered on your neck and chest like mismatched constellations in a dark sky.

He brings your hands up above your head, holding them there, together with his free one.

“You’re so good to me, Dove. And all mine, hm? Say it.” He grunts, “Say you belong to me, promise me that you’ll stay here with me.” He says this softly, tenderly, grinding his hips against yours in slow movements, tightening the coil in your stomach.

“I’m yours, I’m yours. I promise.” You babble, hips moving against his on their own accord. “I’ll stay. I promise. Please.”

Hoseok groans at your words, leaning down to capture your lips with his, tongue finding yours with ease. “That’s right. You’re mine. Fuck. All mine. Say it again.”

“I’m yours, Hoseok.”

He curses under his breath, straightening his form and brings his hands down to grip your hips tight, and sets a brutal pace. Head tilting back to reveal the marks you left on him, groaning before he looks back down at you, “Close? Hm? You’re squeezing so tight.” His words taunt, as did the smirk on his pretty pink lips, “Make a mess for me, Dove. Cum all over my cock. That’s it, good girl.”

White lights dance behind your tightly shut eyelids, a ringing in your ears. And Hoseok was fucking you through it, fast and hard, his praises a rumble in his chest. You lay there boneless, taking what he gave with a haze over your mind, a weak moan leaving your parted lips when his hand met your throat. Your heart spikes for another reason entirely, but he doesn’t squeeze. Fingers just there, barely any pressure, as he chased his own end, cock kissing your cervix with each trust, his other hand pressed against your lower stomach.

His thumb finds your clit and you jolt, catching his sinister smirk that curled his lips. “There’s no going back after this, baby. Fuck – you’re mine, understand?” You can feel him throbbing, feel the way his hips stutter on the draw back, he was close and you wanted nothing more than him marking you, claiming you in this way. When your eyes meet his, a shiver goes through you.

He comes undone with a low groan, hips flushed with your own, still thrusting through it, and you can see them with your own eyes, as he shudders and stills. His wings uncurl, dark feathers, darker than anything you’ve ever seen, dipped in silver, spreads out behind him and flutters. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, gentle, barely there and you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

Your eyelids were heavy, and sleepily, you reach out to brush your fingers through the feathers that encased your forms. Hoseok stiffens before your fingers reach them, and chuckles, nipping softly at the flesh of your neck, “Go ahead, Dove.”

He relaxes, when your fingers touch, and you feel him shudder, groaning softly against your neck. They’re soft, your fingers disappearing in the inky blackness of them. With a final brush of his lips against your neck, Hoseok pulls back, his wings shimmering away like a mirage and your hand passes through air before lands limply at your side.

He squeezes your hip gently, mindful, and then he’s gone, walking out his room and into the hallway. The light that spills in helps you see a lot better than the dim lamp, and you notice that Hoseok’s bedroom looks much like the rest of his apartment; sleek and dark. There isn’t much to it either, the basics, more utilirian than a comfort space. You wonder if he uses it at all.

Hoseok comes back and gathers your boneless self into his arms. You rest your cheek against his collarbone, the sound of running water reaching your ears when he steps out into the hallway.

The tub is filling, steam rising from the bubbles that form at the top of the disturbed water. It smells like mint and some sort of fruit, and the temperature is just right when he steps into it and lowers you down. He positions you so that your back is against his chest and turns off the water when it’s high enough. You sense that he’s in his head again, not quite here even as he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

“Feeling okay?” he asks suddenly, tracing a mindless pattern along your arm.

You hum softly, “Yeah. Sore, though.”

“I expected that.” Another kiss, apologetic, against your shoulder. “Also...” Hoseok pauses, “I finished inside you. I didn’t ask. I’m sorry.”

The realisation dawns on you too and you shift a little to look at him, “I don’t mind, but....is that a bad thing?”

There’s a strange half smile on his lips and he lifts a hand to tug softly on one tangled end of your hair, gently sifting his fingers through until he’s satisfied. “It can be, if it takes. But, I’ll get something for it tomorrow.”

You notice that the marks you left along his skin have begun to fade already, and you poke at them with a finger. He heals quickly, you figured. He chuckles softly, taking your hand to press kisses along your finger tips and then to your palm. Your finger brushes over the mole on his upper lip gently and watch him melt.

He studies you for a moment, the same way he did before he left earlier, though, it’s softer now. “Would you like to come with me?”

You brighten, perking up with a nod, “Is that okay?”

Hoseok hums, mischief in his eyes, “If you promise not to run off as soon as you step foot outside.”

You roll your eyes and turn around, and Hoseok pulls you back to him with an arm around your middle. “I have nowhere to go.”

“I know, I was only teasing.” He chuckles.

You’re both quiet for a while, and you simply relax, almost falling asleep against him as the warm water soothes your aching muscles. You aren’t aware that you did, and only wake when Hoseok was just done tucking fresh clean sheets up to your chin. You’re back in his room but you don’t mind, the thought of going back to your own unsettles you right now. You haven’t forgotten your nightmare, and it’s something you’d definitely have to unpack another day.

You wait until he’s crawled in behind you, the warmth of him encasing you gently. His form melds against your back like he belongs there, an arm slipping under your head and the other over your hip. “Hoseok?”

“Yes Dove?”

You worry at your bottom lip, fingers finding his under the covers and they squeeze your own encouragingly. “There’s a friend of mine...I was with her before I met you.”

“I can help her.” He murmurs, and he sounds...sleepy. Today was a lot for him as well, you suppose. “I can get her a job here.”

You shift, turning to face him, he tucks you to him when you settle, chin resting on top of your head. “How are you gonna do that?”

You hear the smirk when he answers, “Do you think everything I have magically appeared? I own the hotel.”

“Wha—”

“Shh.” Hoseok squeezes your hip, “Go to sleep.”

Sometime later you’ll realise that Hoseok needed you more than he would admit. When you learn his tells he would help put himself back together with you instead of trying to do it alone.

Sometime later he’d take you to see her. When the wind is cold and the old oak tree reaches it’s bare, spindly arms to the frosted sky. When the day marks yet another year and he lets you put the flowers between the roots. He looks like a shadow against the glittering white, and he tells you he’s okay.

He’d take you to meet his friends at a club on the high-end and you’d would realise that he’s soft only with you and the guy who reminds you of a cat. With the others he’s closed off and friendly in a way that seems a little odd.

You’d see Abigail often and would skirt around how you actually met Hoseok when she’d ask. Anyone would think you’re crazy if you told them.

You spend most of your time at home while Hoseok goes off doing god knows what when he’s not there. It’s something to do with his friends and you never ask.

Then he’s there and everything beyond him and you and the space you both occupy doesn’t matter. And it’s kind of easy to forget where it all started – it’d been so long since you’d wondered where you were going to get anything to help you get by.

He’s made of cracks and splintered glass but he let you sink into the spaces, filled the pieces with you and settled. There would always be cracks in the glass that he’s made of, and there would always be a post in his fence that he needs to hammered in to fix. Despite the unconventional way you’d both started, the abnormality of his existence, you’d be there.

[bold, can't tag]

Tagging: @iammeandmeisiam , @imanhaitani @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @astormunchar @eoieopda @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @mssukeyna​ @euphoricfilter @luaspersona

[jamesirius]

“I mean, it’s going to be fun,” Ron encouraged. “Big family reunion. Ottery St. Catchpole does a Christmas market and they have the best marshmallow hot chocolates. Fred and George are in charge of decorations. Even Percy’s sticking his head out of his pile of work to come.” “Fred and George being in charge of decorations is not a ringing endorsement,” Ginny pointed out. “It’ll be great, they’ll get all the gnomes and the chickens involved, and Mum will bring out the big ham.” Ron stretched an arm to rest on the booth behind Hermione and grinned down at his wife. “Perfect Christmas. And it’ll be nice for you, Ginny.” “Why would it be nice for me?” “You show up with a boyfriend, Mum and all the aunts won’t be nagging you about it all through Christmas lunch and dinner.”

Ginny is not totally looking forward to a Christmas spent at home with all her relatives asking her why she's the only unmarried Weasley child. Ron suggests she bring Harry as her fake boyfriend. There are a million ways this could go wrong.

Featuring happily married Ron and Hermione, lots of Weasley babies, the family curse to only have boys, Cedrella Black meddling in her granddaughter's love life, and endless amounts of sugar, mistletoe, and other Christmas shenanigans.

I probably shouldn't have started another multichapter, especially when Christmas is so close but listen... in my defense, I just love Harry/Ginny. And I haven't written them in quite honestly years and years.

The AU is probably one of my favorites - a world without Voldemort, where everyone grew up more or less happily. James and Lily are alive, Harry has siblings, the Marauders never turned on each other or died. And the Weasley family is much the same as they are in canon - although perhaps not with all the same marriages. (But I couldn't break up Ron and Hermione, obviously.)

I wanted to keep it familiar enough to canon - Harry and Ron are Aurors, Hermione works for the Ministry, Ginny plays Quidditch for the Holyhead Harpies - but with the AU, I can expand everyone's families greatly. Lots and lots of redhead Weasley boys incoming, baby Luke was only the beginning. I'm quite excited to play off the canonically massive Weasley family against each other, adding in Arthur's brothers, their children, their grandchildren - and a few other family surprises to come.

For some extra setting info - Hermione says they're thirty years old in this chapter but she's lying; she's the only one who's thirty. The story takes place in December of 2009, where Ron and Harry are 29 and Ginny is 28. All of Ginny's older brothers are married and have kids, so you can see why her grandmother is a little bit irritated that she hasn't gone down the aisle yet.

[hanasnx]

diff anon but what fandoms did you meet your close moots through? i don’t know if that counts as indy lore

that counts! more under the cut. i wanted to talk about all my mutuals

@its-clockwork-princess one of my best, oldest, and dearest friends. years and years of friendship, roleplay, fanfiction, writing. every time i see a duo on screen or in any media my first thought is always her and my second thought is always “us.” we went through a thousand different fandoms and i can’t remember our first but we definitely bonded heavily over fandoms like marvel, dc, and fnaf at the very early stages of our friendship. her dad was actually dating my mom for a long time, which gave us plenty of time together. literally cant even summarize everything we’ve gone through together, everything we’ve built, seriously been friends for a decade and i plan on staying that way for the rest of my life. i cant imagine my life without her, how bleak and colorless it would’ve been. i’m honored to know such a generous and kind person, and someone who helped shape me into who i am today. a love truly unconditional.

@ohgodmyeyes loved his takes on anakin, thought he was so real and so down to earth even though he could stand to be more egotistical considering how talented he is. i think about a certain post he made about anakin -> vader's dick literally once a day. i'm not even exaggerating at all when i say it was my roman empire. in just that small amount of time i was taught his quiet confidence, his exquisite way with words, and his unapologetic thought process. i maintain a distance from him because i'm playing the long game and from what i've seen on his personal posts i feel like he might be overwhelmed if i come on too strong, as i often do. but that doesn't stop me from grinning every time i see him in my notifs and i get to think, "this message was approved by ohgodmyeyes." very proudly.

@somuchfrstardust we talked in the comment section of anakin edits on tiktok i feel like and then i was like "hey wanna be friends" and we haven't talked in a while but that's totally cool, that's just how i am. i still consider them my friend i think they're a rly cool person.

@banakinbabygirl was one of the first anakin/hayden blogs i followed, i love how they write smut. it's a very emotional way of writing, very heavy on the descriptions and realistic reactions that drew me in and kept me there.

@starmanskywalker is one of my favorite writers in general. anything on her masterlist is an instant recommendation from me, instant like, instant reblog, instant indy review. i'm such a jealous person in general but the way i feel about alanis' writing is beyond jealousy. it's admiration, it's fondness, it's awe. i don’t feel envious i feel fulfilled. i was very proud to become her mutual, her friend, be on a first name basis with her, and write fanfiction with her. we have a collab we've been working on for a while but because we're both so busy and it's such a big project it takes a lot of time and a lot of love, but i'm still so excited for the day it's finished and can be published.

@xstarkillerx is so much more than a person i met on the internet. truly one of my best friends, and i can’t imagine not having him in my life. there’s so much i can say that i have actually already said on this blog before. donnie has a way with seeing the world i just love to hear about. i’ll ask his opinions and experiences on everything simply to hear what he, specifically, has to say about it. when we have conversations inhibitions are left at the door for the both of us instead of just me. i feel skinless, muscle-less, body-less with donnie. an entity obsessed with him on discord as we write novels to each other, sonnets about how we view the world and its fictions. donnie is my bread and butter, and i’m so glad i found him and stalked him and forced him to be my friend and now he’s reliant on me just like i want.

@weixuldo such a sweet person and very understanding of me and my boundaries. i first found wei’s blog through their fanart of darth vader which i loved so much i sent every single one of their posts to my best friend who i mentioned at the beginning of this post. i still go back to look at those works every so often to brush up on my love for them. such a talented artist i’m very happy i’m worthy of a follow back, and that we enjoy each other’s content.

@mcondance i met through hobie brown back in june 2022. i loved how they kept luring me to their page by mentioning me and my hobie works they kept reading, i swear they were using my vanity as bait and it worked. they are, genuinely, so fucking funny. i only have friends that are funny don’t get me wrong, but there’s something about jupie that when i’m talking about them to other people, that person is like “omg jupie is so funny.” like. jupie just transcends my sense of humor to other people’s. they’re funny to the masses. i’m very bad at texting, but jupie is a person i try to reach out to so they know i’m virtually loving on them. they like the attention. another writer i’m so pleased to be mutuals with when they’re so skilled at the part of writing i always feel like i’m most wooden at. the side of smut writing that takes feeling and sensation and even an edge of genuine horniness, jupie is so good at translating that onto a page.

@murdrdocs is another mutual i gained from the height of the hobie brown era and i believe i saw her content through jupie’s page. now we don’t get to talk too much but that doesn’t mean i don’t think she’s not a super cool person. i don’t read much, but the things i do get to read specifically on icarus’ page make me very proud to be her mutual. not only is she an accomplished and gorgeous writer, but her blog designs are always envy-inducing. she shifts her aesthetics so seamlessly—even tho i know how changing a theme can be draining and time-consuming—and it’s always easy on the eyes. her navigation is especially creative and i’ll never forget her newspaper clipping themed announcement for last kinktober.

@princessbrunette another writer i’m constantly in awe of. i met her through her anakin works, and invited myself onto her kinktober taglist when she was still a relatively new blog that’s how much i was instantly attracted to her work. her style is so distinct and so refined, i can overlook non canon work because hers is just that good. she’s also very funny, and has a gifted silver tongue. i’m always impressed with how she’s able to paint a picture in her pieces using nothing but the most concise and visualizing words. it’s not often that i watch something because a friend watched it, but i watched obx for her so i could still enjoy her work that’s how much i love it. our universes we create in our dms are so special to me.

@empiresheir was someone i met through their anakin one-shot about order 66 which i’ve reblogged several times and it’ll never be enough. it was such a good piece i gave live updates to my best friend who was reading it too. i sent those screenshots to her orc cos she deserved to know what i had to say. she was also an essential help when i was writing my kinktober project, kind enough to read my pieces and give me line by line feedback just like i like so i wouldn’t go crazy from lack of attention on pieces i couldn’t post til october. not only another talented and powerful writer (capable of dropping my jaw at how insanely good she is at wording things), but such a sweet person to talk to. and though she’s not active in the fandom anymore i think of her fondly and i hope she’s having such a good time with baldur’s gate.

@darthvvder had a collection of anakin drabbles that i found on wattpad of all places and i was amazed at what i read. thoroughly impressed by the physical reactions her works were eliciting in me. got me to care about smut tropes i hadn’t cared about before simply bcos she was so good at writing them. i posted about a line that gripped me and she commented that it was her, i followed and the rest is history.

@jarebare99 is my boyfriend :) he gets an honorary mention. i wrote him an entire book of poetry and my thoughts on him so he can read that if he’s feeling left out from everyone getting paragraphs. i met him in irl not through a fandom but idc.

@ddejavvu was someone i’d see in my notifications including my inbox every so often and she was very recognizable. i really can’t remember how us being mutuals happened? i’d like to say i somehow discovered she wrote and wrote well and once i began noticing i consistently liked her content then i followed and lo and behold she was following me too. mei is very respectful of my space and i like that she texts me without expecting an answer back bcos i like to read her updates and don’t always know what to say. i have some of her inbox messages i gatekeep and i go back and read them every so often and think about how diabolical it would be if i answered them and floored the world, but i have yet to be ready to share the genius.

@anakincentric technically through anakin. even though we don’t talk much bcos both of us have really similar no-contact ways that doesn’t mean i don’t think she’s real sweet. i like when she pops in, drops a banger, and then peaces out. like a disney cameo appearance.

@harrisonbrainrot i wanna say han/indiana. i feel like i was already following his blog because i got to read some of his stuff when i was in a han mood and was like, “yea, this guy gets it.” and then when we reconnected in the comments of someone else’s post, i told him i was a big fan which was true, and then wham bam thank you ma’am mutuals. i have no idea if he knew who i was before or if he was following me, but he’s cool asf. not only is he hot and chill, he’s also really kind with me about not texting. a very generous soul who let me use his crunchyroll to watch jjk out of the goodness of his heart, which i am kissing him for. one of the rare writer’s on here who’s unapologetic in the shit they say, which i always admire and prioritize in who i choose to follow. love his han characterization, so when he’s reblogged a han work of mine, i believe it’s been christened by the harrison ford pope.

@anitheus tagging this blog bcos it’s what i followed first but i also follow her other account @silxani because i love her art style. i love how she draws anakin every time. her spider-sam fanart, and her nsfw anakin works are my favorite, as well as the fanart she made of us for my birthday. gorgeous art style i could look at all day, and i like her personality when we text.

@ivysangel i wanna say it was dc comics but i can’t remember the character, might’ve been jason todd. she came for the dc, and stayed for the other stuff including my general tomfoolery. she flatters me with kind words about how i’ve influenced her, which always makes me soft. we have a lot in common, which is always so much fun to compare, and i love that she watched batman beyond when i recommended it even though i wasn’t expecting her to a) do it and b) love it. she’s aware and respectful of my boundaries when it comes to sharing my ideas which i appreciate, and i love seeing her in my inbox. we haven’t had enough time together for me to nail down everything i like about her, but i will.

@loveliestlovelygirl eloise caught me by surprise bcos it’s not often i get instantly hooked, or at least it hasn’t been that way for a while. i haven’t been in an anakin mood for a while, but i still reblog her works instantly so i can get to it later because i know i’ll like it even though i haven’t read it. idk much about her, but her theme makes me bonkers jealous. it’s so beautiful. like her chapter HTML for her fallen angel au makes me drool.

@psuedosis newest mutual. her reaction towards me made me instantly endeared, and i loved her jet works. some zuko pieces as well! hit at the right time bcos i just finished atla animated. very excited to get to know her more.

boom. indy lore and extensive thoughts on tumblr mutuals.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Hi, it's Quill! For the fic writer asks, can you please answer 40, 56 and 65? 😘❤️

HELLO MY FRIEND THANK YOU 💛💛💛

40. If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

Ooooooh, now THAT'S a toughie. And and all art of my fic would be recived with literal tears of joy, but let's narrow it down lmao. Discounting my horny ass just wanting aaaallll the art of my smutty side account fic (and tbh more horny art of the Cat King in general), I think it would be lovely to see art of Lonely Bones, considering how much time and feeling has gone into it and considering I think you could have a lot of fun with moody compositions. Somewhere Beyond the Sea is only on it's first chapter but especially from chapter two onwards it's gonna have so many fun and whimsical things/characters to draw! I'd also be an absolute GLUTTON for more of mine and L and H's 1920s poly boys as seen in Keep Me Warm, Love Me Long, Be My Sunlight, but that's a bit more niche!

If I had to pick one singular scene, I think I'd melt like butter if someone drew Charles in subspace getting therapeutically, nonsexually dommed by Edwin with silly cat's cradle games in ’Cause You Cut Through All the Noise. I'm so fond of that fic you have no idea.

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

Character voices!! I need to rewatch DBDA again soon to refresh my memory lest I drift into made-up voices but generally speaking I think my dialogue characterisation is pretty fun and believable!

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

I am looking forward to each and every aspect of the 1920s AU I'm working on with @dear-monday and @tw0-ravens, but especially the Thomas dialogue/arc/letters. I'm also huuuugely looking forward to writing my Edge Chronicles AU, but mostly for the world, vibes and character backstories especially pertaining to Edwin -- I'm currently struggling a bit with finding the actual plot, though! I'm also SO excited for the rest of Somewhere Beyond the Sea, there's going to be so much fun and whimsy and fantasy and sweetness, I'm really excited for the bits I've added as well as the bits I'm adapting from the source material!

Get to know your fic writer!

(And because you asked me to talk about WIPs, here we go, a very short, rough snippet of the Edge Chronicles AU from my notes app -- flashback to Charles and Edwin's first meeting!)

It was freezing cold in the prowlgrin roost. Maybe not up in the nests and the roosting poles, where the big old beasts dozed by the light of the burning braziers, the lucky sods. But down in the straw and the muck the winter chill was biting, creeping through every crack in the ancient slats. Charles was huddling down pathetically, dragging the ratty old prowlgrin tarp tighter round his shoulders, when he heard a creak. Louder than the wind through the slats, slower. The door. He froze, holding his breath. The air had... changed. It was crackling with something, making Charles' hair stand on end. And then, footsteps.  Charles shrank back, tried to make himself small. But the shape that stepped into the roost wasn't any boy that he knew — anyone who might be looking to finish what they'd started. It was... strange. It was like looking at those old barkscroll woodcuts from way back; those odd, early academic knights with the leather armour, all tooled and riveted. Like something out of a fairytale. It looked at him, right at him, and pulled off its leather helmet and underneath was just… a boy. Not like any boy he'd seen, though. Pale, worryingly so, and gaunt, eyes the most piercing blue he'd ever seen; unearthly, iridescent. Like open, uncharted sky. "I was looking for the library," said the boy, softly, hoarsely, like he hadn't used his voice in a good long while. "It used to be here, did it not?" Charles frowned, for a moment too confused to be scared. Of all the things to be looking for! "Not anymore, mate. Moved it 'cuz of the rot, didn't they? That was what, thirty years back or summit." "Thirty years..." he hummed like a rumbling storm. "Right. If you might point me in the right direction — I have some very important reading to do.” Charles was starting to think the dunk in the lake had frozen his brain. "It's three in the morning,” he said, baffled. The boy knelt before him, and raised his hand. Charles watched, horrorstruck, as his long, slender fingers lost their shape and stretched, vaporous, into elongated strands of crystalline cirrus. "It is rather pressing," said the boy, deadpan.

And some of my tests of the art style so far 😊 this AU's gonna take me a WHILE with the illustrations as well as the writing lmao

[number-one-shadisper-shipper]

Turns out all I needed to get this fic finished was a road trip!

As Amy comes back from her trip of giving her love to the world, Sonic has to figure out a different kind of love: romantic love. Yeah, the sappy, gushy kind. He knows he cares about Amy, but does he love her? And if he does, is it the same as the way she loves him? And does that even matter?

Sonic always went out running whenever he had to think seriously about something. The wind blew through him, clearing his mind, and the steady beat of his sneakers on the ground beneath him helped him focus. And he certainly needed that focus now.

Amy was coming back from her trip today.

Sonic put on a burst of speed and once again checked the text she'd sent yesterday on his wrist communicator. I'm finally coming home tomorrow! My trip has been so good 😊 😊 😊 I have so much to tell you! Hope to see ya soon! followed by a bunch of heart and smiley face emojis.

Normally Sonic would've immediately shot back a Can't wait to see you! or maybe a smiley and a thumbs up. But the realization that Amy was finally coming back-- and right away-- had caused him to freeze up in panic.

Not that he wasn't excited to have Amy back. He was super excited. He'd missed her a lot while she was gone, especially with Tails off on his own adventures as well and Knuckles back on Angel Island for the time being. Amy had been gone on her trip for a while now. Sharing her love with the world.

He had gotten a few chances to see her, their paths crossing as they both traveled their own paths across the globe. Like in Chu-nan, where they met up to watch the New Year's fireworks together. A fun, perfect night. But besides those brief encounters, Amy was out doing her own thing.

And Sonic missed her.

But now she was coming back! Which meant that really important thinking-- which he'd promised himself he'd do over the many weeks that Amy was gone (and hadn't done)-- needed to be done NOW. He couldn't push it back any more.

He had to figure out what his relationship with Amy was going to be like moving forward.

It was only a decision that would affect literally the rest of his life. He could definitely get it all figured out on just one run. Heh.

Continue on AO3

[jovenshires]

hey gang!

i've been thinking, and i think it's about time i take a tiny, teeny lil hiatus. just wanted to let you know i'll be gone for a lil while (hopefully a week+ depending on how it goes). this is NOT because of any of you - in fact i am going to miss you all dearly. just think i need a bit of a mental health reset luvs.

i will have my queue running - i've upped the time and number of posts as well so it will run throughout my normal hours here - and i have content (incorrect tweets, some video edits, gifsets, etc.) lined up until. like may so don't worry about that snkjfk (i won't be gone for that long prommy i just do a lot of content prep). i'll also be watching smosh every day as per usual, and still working on stuff while im gone!! i think this'll be a really great opportunity to get some work done - i have so many fics and passion projects lined up that im really excited about, so hopefully i'll get to finish those in the meantime and i may be back to post them <3 at the very least i'll be back by valentines day for the smoshblr exchange!!

i won't be checking my notifs, the smosh tag, or anything like that. if you want me to see smth in the meantime, hit me with a tag or a dm and i promise i'll see it when i get back. my askbox is still open but i'm afraid i probably won't be answering anything for the time being. if you're an anon who sends me asks - please please please keep sending them to me. truly you have no idea how much i enjoy our silly lil daily chats, they mean the world to me. i will be back to answer them as soon as i feel like im ready <3 and as for dms, i will answer them once i come back, but if you wanna talk to me urgently, i have discord/snapchat/whatsapp/etc where you can find me if you want to hmu for those <3 even if we've never spoken before!! i don't bite and i love friends prommy. i'll def be around for the rest of the day if you want to get my info!

like i said, i'll be around if anyone has any burning questions or wants to chat. i love you all, keep going strong, and be good while i'm gone. in my honor, please follow my golden rules: be kind to one another, make lots of silly goofy content, and, most importantly, do whatever you want forever. love ya! :)

[artists-ally]

{Train Wreck} HUGE UPDATE!!!!!

~~~~~

OKAY. LISTEN. IM BRINGING IT BACK. I'M BRINGING THIS SERIESS BAAAAAACK. It has been far too long since I have updated it. I know. I'm sorry my loves. Thank you to everyone who has kept asking about it, I haven't forgotten it. I promise.

So, what does this mean? I am going to take down the current parts for this series and revamp them a little, give them a bit of a makeover. I know exactly what I want this series to be now, and with the way the first two chapters are, I can't make it work. Don't be alarmed when you see them gone from my masterlist, they will be back.

I know I have a couple other WIP's y'all are waiting on, a lot of requests, but this is all I want to write right now. So deal with it 😭

I have decided I'm going to kinda go balls to the wall here on Tumblr and only allow myself to write one series or one fic at a time. I cannot have multiple projects open at once, I get incredibly burnt out trying to have so many ideas, and it's just not good for me. So, for the foreseeable future, I will be writing for Train Wreck and Train Wreck only. I hope you all will understand.

I will be finishing this series, as well as my She Gets The Flowers, Right? for Lucien. Just going through my masterlist one by one and making sure everything is completed before I start anything new.

BUUUUUT, I am beyond excited to start this series again. I went through it today on google docs and thought to myself "why did I ever stop writing? This is fucking brilliant." I absolutely adore Ira and Cassian's story, and what eventually will become Azriel and Ira's next. Just be patient, I promise I will bring this series to the next level. Again, thank you for all the support on this series and my other fics, I haven't forgotten them. I have taken a much needed break from posting on here, but I am back. And I am so ready to do this.

[1ris5starlight]

(This happen after this video and I hope you enjoy this parent-child and siblings moment)

To understand:

(Text) = thoughts

*Text* = movements & sounds

"Text" = calling/answering the phone

Text = Narrator

After Show #4

18:47 p.m.

Sun and Dazzle go trow the portal; Dazzle looks at the place with amazed eyes and Sun laugh a bit a it, finding it cute.

Dazzle: Yours and Moon's house is amazing, Sun!!

Sun: *giggle softly* Yeah, it is....but now it's your house too Dazzle! So, do you wanna get inside and have that dance party you told me before?

Dazzle: *gasp excited* YES YES YES!!! I'D LOVE THAT!!!!

They went inside, prepar the stuff for the party and begins it (Lunar is at Earth and Monty's house and Jack doesn't know he leaves there yet).

20:11 p.m.

The living room was full of food, light stickers and sticks and pillows; the TV was on a channel were they projected music all day.

Dazzle and Sun were laying on the couch, both tired.

Sun: Ouf-!...that was quite a party!..

Sun: *looks around* Uh- I think we should clean up, before Moon and Lunar comes back, don't you think Dazzle?.....Dazzle?

Sun looks over Dazzle and sees she fell asleep; he decide to let her rest and clean the mess alone.

After a while he finally finishes to clean up everything and goes pick up Dazzle from the couch, go upstairs and put her on her new bed.

He sits beside her and watch her sleeping for a bit(like a mother that watches over his child).

Sun:....*sigh* you didn't deserve all you have gone trow...you were just a innocent kid who had all their life to live and now... *a tear falls from his eye*.....I'm so so sorry...

Sun lays down to give a goodnight-kiss on Dazzle's forehead, but when he's about to leave he feels a hand taking his and sees the little deer holding his hand: she doesn't him to leave, she wants him to stay.

An indescribable emotion passes through Sun's eyes, an emotion that he had never felt before towards any child: the need to protect (the need that a mother cat has in protecting her kittens).

Sun feels his heart fill with love and with tears of joy in his eyes he lies down next to Dazzle, holding her in his arms and cradling her gently and so he falls asleep too, holding the little girl close to him and that goes the same way around.

21:23 p.m.

Moon got home really tired from work.

Moon: *groan* God, it was a h*ll of a day, today.

Moon: *looks around* HEY SUN! I'M BACK!

He doesn't get response.

Moon: SUN?....Where is he?

Moon starts to look around the house, but still he doesn't find him; he starts to get worried.

Moon: *worried* mh..Where is he?...Did I check everywhere in the house?....Oh wait, I haven't checked Dazzle's room still...

Moon: (I hopes he's there, if not...I'm going to do some calls and go look for him, because I'm getting worried..)

Moon go upstairs, in front of Dazzle's room.

Moon: *opens the door* Hey Sun are you here-..

Moon sees Sun and Dazzle cuddling each other on Dazzle's bed, while sleeping; he smiles at them and goes near them.

Moon: *sits on the bed* *laugh softly and whisper* So you did do the party, and I see you had a lot of fun from what I'm seeing~

Moon lays down near Sun and hugs him to himself with Dazzle still in his arms.

Moon: *kiss Sun's forehead* Goodnight brother!

Moon goes on sleep mode, while cuddling Sun, whose still holding Dazzle in his arms protectively, like a parent would do with his kid.

♡End♧

[cinnamonbunpuff]

my project pan (what i can) 2024

i'd say that i have a pretty small makeup collection, but sometimes it feels like i have just too much. i've got a lot of old stuff that aren't quite old enough to throw out but they've definitely been around for a bit. with the four (!) months left of 2024, im hoping to pan and finish off some of these! i like that project pan is loose enough to fit everyone's own needs and goals, and im hoping to achieve mine with this! i've decided to post my progress here just as a way to help keep me accountable (even if there's like two people following) but also to document my progress and hopefully give me the motivation to pan my other stuff!

my plan: on the 1st (ish) of each month, mark on the container how much product is remaining, as well as taking a picture to compare against the previous month's progress. if i finish or pan something before the 1st, then i'll also post that!

(i'll be using the tag #liz's project pan 2024 for documentation ^.^)

1. morphe 2, hint hint skin tint (hint of honey)

i absolutely LOVE this product!! it gives a nice sheer base without the feeling of a heavy face, and it's easy to apply! the only issue is that it's like 2-3 shades too light 💔 i can only justify getting a new one once this is almost finished, but it's like barely used so i wanna just get it done with asap

2. flower by drew, petal pout lip mask (berry-more)

i've had this for almost a year but barely used it. it's great, i love the colour, texture, and application, but it's just kinda been sitting around tbh. i just wanna use this up as a jumpstart to decluttering my insane lippie collection

3. burt's bees, tinted lip balm (red dahlia)

i will be taking burt's bee's lip balms to my grave. idk how many i've gone through but i absolutely love them. similar to the lip mask, this one has been sitting in my makeup bag for over a year. the funny thing is there's barely anything left, like i can finish it in two weeks max. just throwing this in here as hopefully a reminder that "if i can finish this, i can def finish the rest!"

4. maybelline, the nudes eyeshadow

this one is fs one of my oldest makeup products, like i don't even remember when/why i got it. it works well, i just think that some of the colours aren't the best for my skin tone (but i think i can work with them). this one is prolly going to be one of my longer panning projects (i'm feeling ~end of 2025) and it's time for a new nudes palette, so it's a good start that i've added it!

(apologies cause a lot of the picture qualities aren't that great and doesn't really show the products' true colours but i tried my best!)

come new year's i'll reevaluate these and maybe add some more! super excited to start and hopefully see some progress!! thank you to anyone who wants to stick around and watch <3

[transparentkinks]

More Poly shit

Because I'm poly and I wanna date every companion.

Ever since her lovers made clear their feelings to Nora one late, eventful night, Nora had quickly learned just how often her lovers wanted to jump her bones. Returning home from outings became much more eventful. Her companions had always made sure to drop in on her when they could when they heard she was back, and often simply expected to catch up at the next meal served out of the settlement’s kitchen. Of course she always spent time catching up with Shawn, telling him what she could about what she had been out doing and bringing him items she found to help him tinker. Now though, after she made her way to the settlement, her partners and Shawn were all present within the first hour of her return. 

Curie looks her over extensively for injuries or illness as soon as she can, feeling more confident lecturing Nora about ignoring her health now. Hancock has taken to stealing her bag off her the second he sees her, content to carry it for her wherever she ends up unloading her finds. Preston is quick to kiss her before updating her on her settlement’s safety. Piper, having started a paper to circulate between the settlements with the printing press Nora made her, made sure to give Nora updates and drill her for any action she saw in the wastes. Danse had taken to guarding the front gate along with Strong, and was often the first to greet her, hugging her tight enough to lift her off her feet. Maccready like always covered the village from his perch on the starlight drive in screen, picking off ferals and raiders before they even noticed the settlement. He was always at the gate when he saw Nora, having seen her in his sights before most others. 

Nick and Deacon had taken to minding and hunting down Shawn together to get him to see Nora, the boy often hyperfocused on whatever he chose to explore that day. He could be in his room, or chatting with settlers, or tinkering, or off in the scrap yard covered in mud and oil. He wasn’t always likely to realize his mom had returned. All of them, but especially Nick Curie and Deacon had started spending a lot of time with Shawn, working to give him an education like Nora tries to when she’s home. They help him tinker, and teach him things Nora wouldn’t be able to. He seems to thrive with his new abundance of parental figures. Between the hunting trips, the classes, the time spent together on projects, Nora could tell he was doing well. It made her even more happy now that when she arrived home from a trip, Shawn would greet her with stories of all the great things he did and learned while she was gone. 

They’d all get something to eat together at the community kitchen, and Nora couldn’t remember the last time she felt so happy, so surrounded by love. At least in her settlements, it felt like people were starting to live again, not just survive. Townfolk came out to eat and catch up with their neighbors, sitting around the tables of the dining room. Musicians brought out any instruments they hand, singers sang. People danced. Nora would end her night swaying with one of her lovers to the music before Shawn decided to turn in. She’d tuck him into bed, something she knew he didn’t with his age and competence need it, but it was a ritual they both enjoyed. 

Then, before she turned in for bed herself, one or more of her lovers would pull her away to have their fun with her. Nora was becoming more experienced sexually, and quickly became aware of growing dynamics among her lovers. Nick wasn’t super interested in sex, but to hear him tell it he enjoyed her responses and he enjoyed touching her. Curie seemed excited to experience sex, herself lacking much experience, but it seemed that Piper and Cait were eager to help her expand her horizons while Nora was on the road. Danse didn’t seem very sexually motivated, but he was always very romantic about it. Piper could be unpredictable, flipping like a switch on Nora. In one moment they could be laughing about something together, and in the next Piper could be pinning her against the nearest surface.

Mccreedy Deacon Hancock and Cait on the other hand were very sexual, seeming to deeply enjoy flustering Nora at any given chance. Practically the moment their relationship turned sexual they began pawing at Nora whenever she gave them the opportunity. 

So she really did expect it when Mccreedy pinned her between himself and the counter when she cleaned up her workstation. Deacon seemed to have followed him, and Nora knew the two of them conspired to get her alone.

“Always working on something huh.” Mccreedy spoke something pointless into her ear, an excuse to start kissing down her throat. Deacon made himself busy messing with things on her workbench, moving things and stopping her hands from grabbing different items. When Nora fixed him with a disapproving stare, he just winked at her before stealing a hand to pepper with kisses. 

‘“Waiting till late to trap me?” Nora teased, doing her best to continue her work and actually get things put away so it wouldn’t be a mess tomorrow. It was hard to ignore the lovely sensation of lips on her. 

“You know we can’t stay away from you baby” Mccreedy teased, bit her ear to make her jump and gasp. 

“I hope yer not plannin’ on hoarding her to yourself all night.” Cait remarked from the doorway into the house, looking to have dragged Piper and Curie along with her. Hancock seemed to have followed them, seeming to have caught on to what it means when Cait began dragging those two like she was on a mission. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it” Maccreedy pulled back Nora by her hips away from her work and Deacon released her hand. “You’re just in time for the fun.” Curie darted forward with an excited look in her eye. 

“I wanna try, hold her for me?” Curie requested. Macreedy smirked and turned Nora around to face the group. She was trying her best to look annoyed, but they all knew she was having fun. If anything she was flustered, still getting used to being such a wanted woman, and the regular requests from multiple people for her attention. She whimpered as Maccreedy pulled her arms behind her, arching into his grip as Curie dropped to her knees in front of her and Deacon began an attack on her neck, plucking at dress buttons to reveal her chest. She always changed into a dress when she got back, it made her feel normal again, with the added bonus of seeming to drive her lovers up the wall. They did tend to be a bit rough with the buttons though.

Cait took the opportunity to step forward and lift Nora’s skirt, taking her chance to lick at Nora’s neck and chest, earning a needy whine from Nora. Hancock made himself content with running a hand over her curves, groping her through her clothes. Curie quickly pulled down her panties, and Piper stepped forward to lift Nora by her thigh.  Nora briefly felt air along her pussy before Curie moved to lick along her. Cait reached down to rest a hand on Curie’s head as Nora moaned. 

“Fuck, Curie” Nora whimpered, unable to move against her lips. She felt Curie swipe a finger along her before dipping into her. 

“Good girl Curie, make sure to focus on the clit, like I showed ya.” Cait coached and Curie moaned into Nora, which made Nora squirm and moan and whimper. Then Curie did that thing with her tongue that Cait knew how to do and Nora screamed. Hancock grabbed one of her hands and pulled it to his crotch, working her hand over himself. Curie worked another finger into Nora and crooked them, and Nora started shaking. Just as she could feel herself getting close, Piper spoke up. 

“I think we should take this to the bedroom, don’t you all?” Nora could practically hear Piper’s smirk in her voice. She sure wasn’t looking to check though, considering she was busy whining because Curie pulled away from her with a giggle. 

“Sounds good to me” Hancock grabbed Nora by her upper arm, kissing her while Curie began leading her, and thereby the rest of them behind her. When Hancock released her from his searing kiss Nora whined. She followed though, up all the flights of stairs to her bedroom. As soon as she crossed the threshold of her room Hancock scooped her up and pressed her into her bed, arching over her to steal her lips before her other lovers could come steal her attention. 

“Don’t be selfish” Deacon chided, pushing beside Hancock to take her lips. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it” Hancock leaned back to speak, instead working the buttons at the front of her dress. 

“I wanna fuck you” Macreedy practically begged and Nora moaned into Deacon’s mouth at the thought of it. 

“She seems to like the thought, but not before I get to taste her” Piper insisted, pushing Mccreedy aside to place herself between Nora’s legs. Curie and Hancock took advantage of her newly revealed chest to abuse her breasts with hands and mouths. Nora was already whining when Piper set her mouth to her, and Nora felt like she was burning up with the pressure building in her core and the pleasure pulsing through her. Piper scissored her open while the others played with her, and Nora could feel herself getting lost in the sensation of them. 

“Pretty thing-” Hancock drawled as Nora writhed under them, enjoying the view now that Nora’s dress fell open around her. Piper picked up her pace and Nora was screaming at the feel of it. She felt so close. 

“Pretty indeed” Piper agreed and pulled away. Nora whined. “I think she’s ready for you Mccreedy.” She looked down at Nora deviously, and she knew that Piper meant to torment her so. 

“Piper-” Nora whined, and she just seemed to grin more. 

“I’m gonna take your pretty face for a ride” Piper practically purred, Nora’s lovers making room for her to steal her lips while Mccreedy ran himself through her slick. Piper quickly lost her clothes before straddling Nora’s chest, looking down at her face as Mccreedy began to rock into her. 

“Fuck Nora” Mccreedy groaned, bottoming out and enjoying the flutter of her around him. Just as Nora began moaning when Mccreedy set his initial pace, Piper lowered herself on Nora’s face. 

Nora tried hard to focus through the sensations of her lovers, worked to flick her tongue over Piper. Mccreedy bucked into her particularly hard and Nora groaned. Piper moaned at the vibration and ground down on Nora’s face. 

Nora felt wet, both where her and Mccreedy met and down her face. Her senses were filled with the warm smell of sex. She tried to focus on the sounds Piper was making, and the way their pleasure seemed to be linked through the noises they made and her tongue. 

“Taking me so good-” Mccreedy grunted, and she heard the sound of him spitting followed by a coldness on her clit. Nora was rocked with the sudden sensation of Mccreedy working her clit in firm fast circles. She screamed up into Piper and came hard. She felt a dribble of slick down her face as she came to, heard Piper moaning over her and felt Mccreedy losing his pace in her cunt. 

“Fuck Nora-” Piper sighed and rolled off of her. Let Hancock and Cait and Curie and Deacon continue their efforts where her body once was. She felt Mccreedy pull out of her, felt him spill on her stomach. Hancock similarly spilled on her chest soon after, felt Cait and Curie shake against her. 

Nora knew she could get used to this, her lover’s attention and love and the way they held her. She fell asleep that night, curled up with many of her lovers, knowing she’ll spend the next morning with them cleaning up and cooking together and working on the settlement and living their wonderful, domestic-ish life together.

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with People (2023)

Jonathan Bailey could have gone in any direction after his runaway success as the male romantic lead in Bridgerton'ssecond season.

But choosing to play a gay man opposite Matt Bomer in Showtime's Fellow Travelers, another romantic period drama — this one spanning the 1950s Joseph McCarthy communist trials to the 1980s AIDS crisis — was a "no-brainer" for the British actor.

"I had looked for these gay stories, a sweeping gay love story, and I hadn't really seen them," Bailey, 35, tells PEOPLE in this week's issue. "This ticked every single box, and it's something I know I'll be proud of for the rest of my career."

Bailey first grabbed the attention of TV viewers with his breakthrough performance as Anthony Bridgerton, the proud, surly viscount on Shonda Rhimes's sudsy Regency-era drama Bridgerton.

Starring in one of Netflix's most popular shows has been transformative for Bailey, who previously had mostly divided his time between British TV and theater roles.

"Having always waited for auditions and projects to come, I just have that footing now to have choices, which is incredible and so special, because it's not a very common thing," he says. "I have a responsibility therefore not to waste that."

Raised in Benson, England by his father Stuart, a managing director at a honey supplier, and his mother Carole, who worked several jobs to help make ends meet and pay for dance and music lessons for her son and his three older sisters, Bailey found school intimidating.

The actor was 11 when he realized he might be gay, and he sought refuge in his family, the theater and his best friend.

"It's a pretty common story that school is terrifying, especially in a world where people don't understand or the teachers and children don't understand LGBTQ+ identities and experiences," he shares. "But the superpower of being on the outside looking in means that when you're older, you are drawn to storytelling and creatives who are singular and exciting. And I think queer people have a real strength to them, which could be celebrated."

Fellow Travelers certainly celebrates the LGBTQ+ community through its ambitious, decades-long narrative and queer stars. The biggest, most exciting draw for Bailey was his character Tim Laughlin's "expansive arc," evolving from a closeted political staffer in the 1950s to an out-and-proud activist in the 1980s.

"It's explored more, his journey and the expanse of it, more than any other character," Bailey says. "But I think, with Tim, he's constantly searching within himself. He's constantly torn between his identity, the truth about his identity and the stories that he's been told, whether it be by religion, by the government, by his parents or society. So it's thrilling to be able to constantly be torn between two places."

Working alongside Bomer, 46, helped Bailey bring Fellow Travelers to life.

Bomer, who also served as an executive producer on Fellow Travelers, was "a total joy" to work with, recalls Bailey, who meshed well with the White Collar actor right from the start — from their Zoom screen test to their "pregame coffee" five days before they began shooting.

"We both had quite a lot of experience in our careers of intimacy and portraying intimacy, but there's also just so much we've experienced as gay men, as well. So naturally, we had a lot to explore," he says, adding, "To honor the canon of gay storytelling is totally what I set out to do. So if it [Fellow Travelers] is 'up there,' then I'm really happy."

Source

[fortheloveof-sebastian]

Bloody Good Luck

Pairings: Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: Garreth tries to help ease your nerves about public speaking with a new potion. When things don’t exactly go as planned, Sebastian is there to support you.

Warnings: public speaking, fluff, blood and nosebleeds, playful fighting

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This oneshot was requested by @sallyface1726 ! I hope this is what you were looking for. I think I might’ve gone off a little from your original request, but I hope you enjoy, I had a fun time writing it🥰

"Here, this will do it."

"What is it?"

You peer into the cauldron set in front of you. Boiling inside is a sickly-looking green liquid. The creator of said potion, Garreth, beams at you with an enthusiasm that you can't muster enough to match.

"It's very...green." It's the kindest thing you can think to say.

Garreth grins. "Isn't it bloody brilliant? This should do the trick to ease all of your worries."

Using the tip of your wand, you poke at the boiling potion. It doesn't burn your wand like acid, or turn it a funny color, or any other abhorrent third thing that you have yet to imagine; not to say that it bolsters your confidence, you're still rather quite concerned that you've somehow cemented your death.

"Have you tried it?" You ask the red headed Gryffindor.

Garreth's expression wavers. "No," he admits, then quickly adds, "but that's only because I don't need it, remember? I paired up with Amit for the project. He's taken care of it all."

Internally, you curse yourself. It would've been smart to complete the project with a partner, but you dreaded the outcomes — either you shouldered the entire thing by yourself, or your opinions were smothered by an insufferable know-it-all. Besides, your grade in Beasts Class was severely tanking, and you needed to secure a perfect score without any liability.

That is, of course, not counting your crippling fear of public speaking.

You had been complaining to Sebastian and Ominis on your way to class last week; flanked by the two Slytherin, and strolling casually through the courtyard, you thought you were safe. But apparently, you hadn't taken into consideration that your fears would be overhead, especially by that of Garreth, who you either loved or tolerated based on his current antics.

"Did you say you're worried?" Garreth had asked, barging between you and Ominis, slightly out of breath as if he had ran across the castle.

Ominis scoffed at the intrusion, his expression souring. "Well, pardon me," he retorted.

"I forgive you, mate," Garreth said, oblivious. He pushed the hair from his face. "So, did you say you had some worries about the upcoming presentation?"

Your gaze has drifted to Sebastian. He shrugged.

"Um, yeah," you finally admitted.

"Listen, I've been working on something — no, no, don't give me that face. I've been working on something to ease people's fears. A potion. After you drink it, your fears will vanish."

You frowned. "And how does that work?"

"Like I said, I've been working on it." Garreth grinned at you. "What do you say? You could be the first person to try it."

"I don't know —" you began.

Garreth's eyes widened. "Please? I'm sure it will be a smashing success. I'll even share the profits with you! Everyone will be dying to try it. I happen to know a first year who is so terrified of Professor Sharpe that he might buy the 'ole lot —"

"Fine," you conceded.

Garreth's mouth snapped shut. If you hadn’t been so reluctant about accepting, you might've smiled at his childlike excitement.

You’re then brought back to the present by Garreth pushing a goblet in your hand. "You'll want to take it now, before class, so that it has time to work," Garreth instructs.

Miserably, you look down into the goblet.

"Are you really going to drink that?" Sebastian's familiar voice floats into the room. Garreth and you both turn to find him strolling into the empty Potions classroom, shrugging on his robes.

You grimace. "I think so."

"And you tested it?" Sebastian asks. He stands slightly behind you now, and his proximity incites an entire flock of jobberknolls in your stomach.

Garreth has the good sense to appear nervous.

"Um, yeah, of course," he says. He suddenly loses the ability to maintain eye contact, then mumbles some excuse about finding Amit and scurries away. Sebastian watches him leave.

"I don't have a good feeling about this."

You gently punch his arm. "You didn't have to scare him away."

"What?" Sebastian feigns offense. "I did not."

"Yes, you did," you reply, full of amusement. "After you hexed Everett the other day for pranking me, no one wants to cross you."

Sebastian pauses, seeming to digest this information. Finally, he settles on, "Well he had it coming for him."

"You don't have to defend me, you know. I can do it perfectly fine myself."

"I know." Sebastian's lips curl upward. You try very hard not to think about what it's like to kiss him. "I just like to. Is that such a crime?"

"Hardly. Although it could quite possibly turn into one if you keep on this path of leaping to defend my honor," you tease him.

Sebastian smiles, then, and the sight of it is like the sun breaking through the clouds. "Guilty as charged." His expression changes slightly. "You were kidding about taking that potion, though, weren't you? Garreth can't be trusted."

The liquid in the goblet gurgles.

"You know how anxious I get," you remind him. Even the thought of the impending presentation makes your stomach twist and turn.

Sebastian frowns. "There has to be another way."

"I'm doing it, and you can't stop me."

"Well, go on then."

You grip on the goblet tightens. Now, it was no longer a matter of easing your nerves but proving your bravery. Sebastian watches, in thinly veiled amusment, as you pinch your nose and then drain the goblet of its contents. The potion doesn't taste half as bad as you thought it would.

Slamming the goblet down on the table, you announce, "Okay, I'm ready."

"Feeling any different?" Sebastian asks.

"I don't know," you tell him, "and I don't care. I'll see you on the other side."

And then you march towards the Beasts classroom.

The class begins rather uneventfully. Professor Howin introduces the topic of presentation — the care of exotic beasts — and selects the first student pairing to present. You're grateful that you're not first, but when it's your time to present, there's a nervous stirring in the pit of your stomach. You make your way to the front of the class.

Sebastian smiles at you from the back row. Garreth gives you a double thumbs up. And Natty, who is aware of your social anxieties after a disastrous project in Charms together, straightens in her seat and gives you an encouraging nod. Emboldened, you launch into your presentation about the care of Thorny Newts, bright-colored amphibians who dwell mostly in the eastern regions of Asia.

While the presentation starts slowly, you gradually feel yourself relax. You're not even a quarter of the way through the presentation when the tightening in your chest loosens, and you're suddenly confidently carrying through the necessities of Thorny Newt care. In fact, you barely remember feeling afraid at all.

You're about to delve into the feeding requirements of the Thorny Newt when someone near the front of the class gasps. You're not sure what it's about, so you forge ahead. Only when several other students start to recoil in surprise do you suspect that something is wrong.

Panicked, you look for Sebastian.

Looking rather pale, he mimes wiping his nose.

You copy the gesture, and immediately feel a thick wetness; you pull away, and find blood now smeared across your hand and sleeve. Horror yawns inside you. Your speech falters as even more blood begins to seep from your nose.

In an effort to stop the bleeding, you hold your sleeve firmly against your nose.

"Thorny Newts? More like Bloody Newts!" One of the other fifth years shout. This provokes a chorus of giggles. Several more students chime in on the unfortunate situation, until everyone is either covering their mouths in disgust or laughing uproariously.

Tears spring to your eyes. You wish desperately that a portal would open under your feet and swallow you up, take you somewhere where nobody knew your name. A mixture of humiliation and sadness crash over you.

Professor Howin approaches you. "Oh, dear —" but it's all the time she has to say before there's another eruption of gasps.

Grateful for, well, only a portion of the attention to be diverted from you, you stare in wide-eyed confusion as Sebastian shoots to his feet. Crimson blood dribbles down his lips and onto the front of his robes.

The class has lost all means of respect. Chants of "Bloody Newt" echo and disturb the nearby beasts in their pens. Students laugh at you, and now Sebastian. Professor Howin swallows thickly, then glances between the both of you.

"Infirmary, now!" She orders. "And if this was just some ploy to get out of your schoolwork, we will be having a firm talk with the headmaster."

Ashamed, you duck your head and scurry away. You're about halfway up the path to the infirmary, nose still gushing blood, when Sebastian catches up with you. His laughter, which usually comforts you, only makes the blush burning your cheeks even warmer.

"I can't believe that happened!" He cries, delighted.

Doing nothing to staunch his own bloody nose, it runs freely down his face. You find it highly annoying that he still manages to be painfully handsome.

You don't reply, and just walk faster.

"Hey, Y/N —" he grabs your shoulder. "Are you crying?"

You yank away from him. Tears mix with the blood. Swallowing, you try to disguise your sadness but fail epically. "I—yes. That was properly embarrassing. In front of the whole class, too." You shake your head. "I'm probably going to fail Beasts Class now."

Sebastian scoffs. "No you won't. Not if I have anything to do with it."

"Why is your nose bleeding anyway?" You ask. "If you did it just to save me, I already told you that I don't need you doing that. And now Howin thinks it's something we planned."

You hiccup.

You hated crying. Your face got splotchy, and you could hardly control your voice from revealing your emotions. Perhaps you were a fool to think that taking a potion would magically fix your fears, or that a presentation could actually go well.

Sebastian persists, matching your pace despite your efforts to lose him. "If you want the truth, I took some of the potion after you left. I knew Garreth would mess up somehow."

You shoot him a glance. "Really?"

"Swear." Finally, he swipes at his bloody nose but it only seems to make it worse. "You were doing so well that I thought the bastard actually did something."

You sniff. "You think?"

"Yes! You were brilliant!" Sebastian exclaims. "Howin would be foolish not to give you credit for it, bloody nose or not."

You had almost made it to the infirmary. Your tears had nearly ceased, although the blood had not. "I should've taken your word about trusting any potion made by Garreth."

"I will abstain from my right to say I told you so," Sebastian teases.

The nurse at the infirmary immediately ushers you both onto side-by-side beds and begins working. Sebastian and you share small, secretive smiles when she asks what happened. Neither of you tell her the truth. She doesn't seemed convinced, but manages to find a cure despite your lack of answers.

You're given instructions to wait half an hour, in case the bleeding starts again, and then return back to class.

"What I don't understand," you say, as the nurse leaves to tend to another patient, "is why you took the potion too. You're not scared of public speaking."

Sebastian shrugs. "You're not wrong."

"So why then? Especially if you don't trust Garreth."

"I couldn't let you take it alone. Whatever was going to happen, we were going to go through it together," he explains. Somewhat sheepishly, he adds, "I should've told you not to take it in the first place instead of challenging you. You do a wonderful job in everything you do, there's no need for stupid fear reducing potions."

Your previous humiliation melts into bliss. "It's sweet of you to say that."

"It's true, though," Sebastian says. "I know you don't like talking in front of others, but you're obviously so passionate about everything you do that hardly anyone even notices."

"They notice now," you remark.

"Shame on them, then. It shouldn't take a little blood for them to notice how great you are."

"Just a little?"

Sebastian snorts and rolls his eyes. "Did you have to ruin a perfectly nice sentiment?"

"I just wanted to confirm your perspective on the amount of blood that you qualifies as little," you reply with a laugh. Both of your robes are stained with dried blood.

The nurse dismisses you both.

You and Sebastian lapse into a discussion about how the rest of your day will look — now that you both look as if you've been in a horrendous battle — when he catches sight of something across the courtyard that makes him freeze.

Following his eyes, you spot Garreth moving through the crowd of students.

"Sebastian —" you warn.

"Weasley, c'mere you little twat!" Sebastian shouts. It's as if you hadn't even spoken.

He tears himself from your side in order to pursue the Gryffindor.  You watch, partly in amusement and partly in disbelief, as Sebastian races across the courtyard and finally manages to tackle Garreth into a pile of leaves. Sounds of their tussle rise above the chatter of students, interspersed with the flash of red and green robes as their identities get lost in a tangle of limbs.

"Who messed with you now?"

Ominis appears at your side. His features are the picture of nonchalance.

You sigh. "Garreth."

"Bloody nose?"

"How did you know?" You look at him skeptically.

Ominis clicks his tongue. "Just because I cannot see does not mean I cannot hear." There's a pause as you, watching, and Ominis, listening, observe the fight between the two boys. "Should we stop them?"

You frown. "Mm. In a second."

Sure, you didn't need Sebastian to leap to your defense like a rabid dog, but it didn't mean that you didn't like it. It brought a certain kind of warmth to your body.

Besides, there were far worse things in the world then to be loved fiercely.