#don’t pay too much attention 2 the architectural parts they don’t make sense

[pygmypouter]

This place is a message... and part of a system of messages... pay attention to it!

[sweetchup]

Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

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Vol. 1: Just Keep Swimming // Ch. 2

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 4,000+

Masterlist

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Sounds of horns and shouting filled the air outside as you stood on the packed bus. Cramped in from every side, it was hard for you to tell where you were going. Not as if you were paying much attention anyways.

“Okay, you left fish and pasta in the fridge… he could use the tv or read a book for entertainment while you are gone…what about…” You ramble incoherently to yourself.

Even though the storm hit Athens hard yesterday, your studio art professor was still having classes today. Forcing you to leave Triton alone at home. You shouldn’t be nervous. There was no reason to. After all, Triton is a god, he was hundreds of years old.

But…, he was still a child. No matter how old or what type of being he is. He could still possibly injure himself or get into trouble. And that single fact alone made you feel sick to your stomach.

“Is this how parents feel leaving their child alone for the first time…?” You groan to yourself, leaning your head forward so it hits the window in front of you.

“Now Approaching *Athens International School of Art*. I repeat, Now—“ The robotic voice announces over the intercom. At the familiar name of your college, you squeeze your way through the other patrons on the bus to make your way to the doors.

Sweet, sweet air, you think to yourself as soon as you exit the bus. It was starting to get way too cramped in there. So much so, you wondered if it was a safety hazard. Though it wasn’t as if you were one to talk, you left a little boy alone—

“Argh!” You scream out, slapping the cheeks of your face. You needed to stop thinking of Triton. He was going to be completely fine. But, what if…

“I’m getting too attached already…” You groan to yourself. It had only been a day. One singular Day. But you were already smitten by the blonde haired child. “It doesn’t help that he's absolutely adorable as well…”

“Who’s adorable?” A voice calls out from behind you, making you jump in surprise. Whipping around, you let out a sigh once you identify who it was.

“Bryce… how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that…”

Bryce Kroger. He was studying abroad at Athens International School of Art for a year just like you except he was instead an architecture major. You met him by coincidence while taking art history so you didn’t know much about the guy, the only thing being the few stories he told you about his home country of Australia.

“Oi! It’s not my fault you're so skittish!” Bryce banters back with a huff.

“Whatever…”

“Eh? Wait, where you heading?” Bryce questions as he watches you walk away, “I thought you had Studio Art on Fridays?”

“I do. I’m heading to the library first though.” You yell back to the tall male who stayed put where he was standing. Not even bothering to follow you.

“You need to stop studying so much!”

“Shut up!”

“IT’S THE TRUTH!”

“SHUT UP!” You scream back with one final huff before storming off. So what if you studied so much. You just wanted to get good grades in the classes that counted. It’s how you got here in the first place. By working your ass off.

Unconsciously, you feel your hand twitch as you open the library door. So what if you spent hours studying. So what if you didn’t go out with friends that often. So what if you didn’t have a social life. So what—

You feel yourself pause, your expression turning sour. Lonely. That’s what you were. You were lonely. A miserable lonely girl.

“Miss!”

Startled out of your thoughts by the sudden call, you realize you were no longer standing at the front door but instead standing in front of one of the librarians. You must have unconsciously walked up to the front desk while you were lost in thought.

“A-Ah. Sorry, I was just looking for books on Leonar—“

You feel your voice trail off at the end as a book on the counter catches your eye. It wasn’t the gold detailing nor the leather texture. No. It was the simple words of “Greek Mythology: Tales of Zeus” printed neatly on the front.

“…Actually, Do you perhaps have any books about Poseidon?”

You just found something better to do with your time.

—.—.—.—.—

“Damn… this is extremely confusing…” You mumble to yourself as you glare at the pages of notes in front of you. Each book seemed to be a little bit different from the last. “Perhaps I should recap…”

Okay, so what makes sense to you is that Poseidon is the second eldest of three brothers and is the ruler of the seas. The things that don’t make sense are… practically everything else…

You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or scream out of frustration right now.

According to the books, Poseidon has had many consorts over the years. One of them being Triton’s mother, Amphitrite…

“My mother… can be quite mean to other women. Even to some of the female servants around the palace. She believes that they are trying to seduce my father…”

…but that doesn’t match up with what Triton mentioned last night. According to him, it sounds like Amphitrite scared away any women that would even come near Poseidon. This also leads to another flaw in the mythology books. You doubted that Poseidon would be able to have an affair with any other women with Amphitrite antics, nevertheless have 10 other children with them.

“Triton also never mentioned having any other siblings…”

Letting out a groan, which you seemed to be doing a lot today, you banged your head against the table. It seems like these mythology books weren’t going to be of any help after all. Though…. you couldn’t help but wonder why the books were so off in the first place.

Lifting yourself back up from the table, you glare down at one of the book covers. It was blue, almost silvery in a way, with a giant black silhouette of Poseidon right smack dab in the middle. Or, at least, what Poseidon might look like…

“Well, my father is extremely strong and handsome. All the sea nymphs stare at him with big heart eyes half the time. Oh! B-but, father doesn’t pay any attention to them. Father is not a cheater like uncle Zeus…”

“…Is Father…? Oh. He’s alright… He’s nowhere as bad as my mother. He’s never hit me or anything. He’s just… cold. Extremely cold. He really just ignores me half the time…”

“…I do love my father…I just wished he would at least spare me a glance…you know?…Acknowledge his own son…”

“God damn jerk!” You hiss out in anger as you push the book aside. Your blood practically boiling at even the slightest thought of Triton’s father, Poseidon. He doesn’t deserve to have such a good and nice son like Triton.

However, as much as you want to curse out Poseidon more, you realized class would be starting soon and you really had to get a move on.

“Shit. I can’t afford to be late again.”

—.—.—

“Ugh. Why did the professor have to assign me this type of painter…?!” You whined to Yuri. Class had already ended by then with the professor long gone. The only people left were students that were conversing with others or trying to get a head start on their paintings.

“Well, it didn’t help that you barged into class late for the second time this week, (y/n).” Yuri explained with a sigh as she continued to set up her palette, not even sparing you a glance.

Yuri Saito, Or rather Saito Yuri, was an abroad student from Japan. She was the closest person you knew at the college as you both were similar in many ways. Especially since you were both homebodies.

“I get that but at least I showed up in the fir—“

“(Y/n)!” A voice shouts out interrupting your talk with Yuri. You turn around to see Bella Woods, a student apart of your major, approaching you. “(Y/n). You were part of your student council back in high school right?”

“Uh, Yeah. Why?” You answered hesitantly. You weren’t sure why, perhaps instincts, but you were already having a bad feeling about this situation.

“Well I need your help on something…” Bella explains, her voice trailing off at the end as she grabs something from her bag. It’s a piece of paper, a flier to be exact.

“A…A Cultural Festival?”

Bella nods her head at your words, “Yeah. The college wanted to put something on for the public to show what our art school is all about and Mrs. Yamamoto suggested this. A-Apparently, it’s something schools and colleges do back in Japan.”

“B-But how can I help? Wouldn’t it make sense for someone like Yuri to do this? Since she’s from Japan and all.”

It was the truth. You didn’t know a single thing about japanese culture festivals.

“Hey don’t drag me into this, I’m busy.” Yuri counterbacks with a glare before returning back to her painting.

“Well… you see… The school wanted to change Mrs. Yamamoto’s idea a bit since they really didn’t know anything about Japanese Cultural festivals either. So it’s like a Cultural festival, kind of not.” Bella rambled. You could tell all this information was scrambling her brain as well. “Basically, it’s like a Greek version of a Cultural festival where each major picks a Greek god and plans an event or booth around it.”

“…Okay… So it’s just like a school festival in a way?” You questioned cautiously. This was a lot for you to take in at once.

“Yes. Precisely. We are just taking inspiration from Cultural festivals.”

“Okay. Okay…” You answer as you rub the back of your neck, “I still don’t understand why you need me though?”

“Well, I kind of… kind of saw you reading the mythology books in the library today and we need more people on the planning committee…” Oh, god. It seems like everything is coming back to bite you in the ass, “…Just. Please (y/n), We need your help!”

You let out a small sigh as you watch Bella give you a pleading look, “Fine…”

“Yay—!“

“But…“ You start cutting off Bella’s cheers, “But I’m taking care of something really important right now at home so I can’t always make meetings and things like that. I can help with planning but that’s it. Okay?”

That was correct. As much as you wanted to help Bella and your department out with this festival, Triton was your top priority right now. His care and needs were above all else right now, even your own. So if this would get in the way of that then you would drop this project instantly. Instantly.

“Of course! Oh, thank you (y/n)!” Bella cheers, her body visibly relaxing now that a stress has been taken off your shoulder, “Well, I’m not sure if you're busy right now but… the committee is currently planning two classrooms down… so if you could…”

“I’ll go…” You sighed out. Damn, what’s with you lately. Less than two days ago, people hardly approached you. Now you are as busy as a bee. A person magnetic… Well, more like god magnetic as wel—

Wait, a minute. You feel yourself tense up as a thought flies into your brain. If Gods could travel and spend time on earth, could they live here as well? Just like how Triton wants to?

Shit. What if some that live here are able to identify Triton? You could be in big troub—

“(Y/n)? Are you coming?” Bella calls, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Y-yes.”

It seemed you would have to worry about that later. Not that it mattered right now, you could always just ask Triton when you got home. And even if he didn’t know the answer you would just have to be careful bringing him out of the house. Yeah… you would just do that.

“Guys, I would like to introduce you to (y/n). She’s a fine arts major just like us and knows about mythology. I think she would make a great addition to our group.” Bella introduces you as you enter the room. As you looked around the group of only 4 other people, you realized you really didn’t know anyone.

That is until everyone started to introduce themselves. You never heard of the first three—Brian, James and Kyle—but you found the last name, Marissa Samudra, quite familiar. You wonder if she was that Marissa.

Who you were talking about was Marissa, the hottest girl in school Marissa. Well, at least that’s what all the boys in your major told you. The girl in front of you at least seemed to fit the part. With white silk like skin, light green eyes and dyed coral pink hair, she truly was a sight to see.

“Okay. So shall we get started.” James suddenly spoke up, seeming to want to get the meeting started. You nodded your head in agreement before taking a seat next to Holly. As well as across from Marissa. “Well, I think we should first decide which god we should do. Culinary, Music, Visual performing arts and architecture already have chosen Aphrodite, Hades, Ares and Zeus. (Y/n)…”

You lift your head up at the call of your name.

“…as you know the most about Mythology, who do you think we should pick?”

“Well,…” You feel yourself pause, your palms growing sweaty out of nervousness. You really didn’t know that much about Greek Gods, only the class you took last year and the books you skimmed this morning. You also didn’t expect so many of the main gods to be taken already.

“…How about…”

You needed to think of someone fast. Someone that would satisfy all parties here. Someone that would bedazzle people coming to the festival.

“…Poseidon…?”

Why… Why was that what your brain had come up with? Poseidon? The very god that you were cursing out this morning. Wishing near death upon.

“Fish man?” Brian questioned, letting out a small chuckle at his own joke, “You really want to go with Fish man as our god? Isn’t there anyone better?”

“I think Poseidon is pretty…cool.” You feel a shiver go up your spine as you compliment the man. It was official, you might actually puke. “…He’s the king of the seas. It gives us a lot to work with for his character. Especially since most Fine Arts students are good at realistic elements, we could really do well on painting or using sea life.”

“True… but—“

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

You are shocked as you hear Marissa cut Brian off. When you first sat down, she seemed totally uninterested in the topic at hand. Caring more about her hair and nails than anything else. But now, now, she was paying attention to every little thing. You couldn’t help but wonder why. “Oh sorry. I really like the sea. It holds a special place in my heart… you know?”

Oh, that makes sense. You totally forgot Marissa’s paintings were mostly about the ocean and sea. Never drifting off to other topics.

“N-no. That’s actually pretty cool. You know what, we should totally do Posedin… or whatever the dude’s name is. He sounds really cool.” Bryan agrees as he bashfully rubs the back of his neck. Gross, could he make it any less obvious that he was smitten by her. And not in a nice way either.

You feel yourself shiver as you watch him sneak small glances down at Marissa’s chest area. Disgusting pervert…

“Well, with that decided let’s move on…”

…Great… You could already tell this was going to be a long meeting…

—.—.—.—.—

Again, for what felt like the hundredth time today, you banged your head against the wall. This time however it was against the door of your apartment.

“Seriously… a Café…?”

Yes, a Café. That’s the brilliant idea your group came up with. An under the sea type themed café.

In hindsight it didn’t sound all that bad. You could have a couple of students paint some props and decorations. Then another couple of students who know how to cook plan out the menu. Maybe even borrow some culinary students if you were lucky.

But,… there’s that.

Outnumbered three to two, the boys of your group insisted the girls that are serving customers should wear togas. Togas. They stated it was to bring in more customers but it was pretty obvious they had other intentions behind it. Especially since they didn’t even bother waiting a couple of minutes afterwards to ask if Marissa wanted to be part of the waiting staff.

“Poor girl… I feel bad for her.” You mumble to yourself as you pull out your keys, finally unlocking the door to your apartment. You wished you could just beat all those men senseless with a baseball bat. “That’s actually not a bad idea… Could I bring a wooden club and say that it's part of the character? They seem to not know that much about—“

“Miss (y/n)!” You hear shouted as something comes barreling into you. Knocking you onto the ground right as you enter your apartment. “O-oops I meant to only say (y/n)…”

Even though you got the air literally knocked out of you, you still let out a small chuckle as you reached up to run a hand through the perpetrator’s locks. Triton’s blonde locks. “It’s okay. I only told you this morning to stop referring to me so formally. It will take time for you to get used to it.”

Suddenly, you wince at a feeling of pain as you move slightly. Triton sure was strong. You, honestly, wondered if he held back some strength when he jumped at you. If so, you wondered how strong Triton was nonetheless an adult god.

Speaking of an adult god…

“Hey Triton.” The boy lifts his head up at your call, “Do any gods live on earth?”

The boy seemed to take a moment to think, “Well kind of? Not really Greek Gods though. Most of them are too proud to live with humans.”

“Oh well that’s goo— Wait, a minute! Other gods are real as well!?”

Triton nods his head furiously, “Yeah pretty much all gods. As long as it is considered as one, it exists. There’s Nordic gods…, Indian gods…, Oh! Even Buddha. I like Buddha, even though I’ve only met him once. He introduced me to salt water taffy! It’s delicious.”

“I-I see…I’ll try to get you some then. Another time.” As much as you wanted to hide your surprise you couldn’t. Learning that Greek Gods actually existed was one situation but learning that All Gods existed was a whole nother ball game. Did that mean demons existed as well?

“Hey (y/n). Could I ask you a question?” Triton asks, suddenly seeming bashful all of a sudden.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Could I…” Triton pauses for a moment, “Could I call you…”

You leaned closer to Triton as his voice slowly got softer and softer at the end. His ears and cheeks were bright red as he waited for you to answer. However, you couldn’t answer him as you didn’t hear the last part of what he said.

“I apologize. Could you repeat what you said, Triton? I couldn’t hear the end of it.” You felt bad for asking him to repeat it as his face only seemed to get even more red when you asked.

“I-I… Could I call you… Mom?”

It was silent as his question, or rather request, fell upon your ears. You thought about it for a moment. Especially whether it was morally right for you to have him call you ‘mom’. Even if his true mother was a terrible person, she was still his mother.

Though, then again, She really didn’t act like his mother. Especially in all her hundreds of years of existence of having him. At least from what you’ve heard from Triton. She’s had plenty of chances to show her love for him and she never did.

“Of…Of course you can.”

You feel yourself smile as Triton’s face lit up. And you knew, Deep down inside, that you did the right thing. You would show this boy the love he deserved.

“Hey (Y— Mom.” You giggle at how Triton seemed to practically beam with happiness once the title left his lips.

“Yes, Triton?”

“Could we have dinner right now?”

You feel yourself jump up a little in surprise. Since you stayed later than what you usually would, due to the meeting, you didn’t have anything prepared ahead of time for dinner.

“Ah, yes. Do you think you could wait in the living room while I prepare it?”

“Of course!” Triton answers as he scrambles up off of you. As you make your way to the kitchen—which was technically in the same room as the living room—to start dinner, you find yourself drifting off into your thoughts.

You realized you really hadn’t thought this through. Taking care of Triton and all. Your apartment was small, he didn’t have his own room, he seemed to eat a lot more than a human boy his physical age and so much more.

You wouldn’t be able to buy a bigger apartment right now. Going through college and all. But you could take more shifts at work. After all, it was literally down the street. You were also good friends with the owner of the toy shop next door. You bet he would allow Triton to play with a couple of toys while you worked.

As you continue to list things you would need to take care of Triton especially if it was long term, Triton was watching cartoons on the couch.

“…Wonder cats will be right back!…”

As the show goes to commercial break, Triton feels himself let out a sigh. Television sure was awesome and all, much better than the plays and coliseum matches used to entertain gods, but he despised ads more than anything.

“Who in the world created such a malicious thing…”

Triton’s voice trails off at the end as the ad changes to another. As he stares at the screen, he feels a shiver shoot down his spine. As quickly as he could, Triton changes the channel to another before shakily dropping the television remote. A cold sheen of sweat breaks out all over his skin as he collapses back onto the couch.

To anyone else, the commercial before looked like any normal hair dye commercial seen on Tv. But not to Triton. Especially when he saw something oh so familiar.

“T-that hair color…” Triton feels himself shiver at the thought, “L-looked too much like Aunties. Mom’s…No…

…Amphitrite’s Sister.”

Author Note: Ahhh this chapter contained so much but I knew I couldn’t split it up. Especially if I was doing posting Tuesdays and Thursdays. I was worried that the time frame in between would mess my readers up. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this Chapter. I know there wasn’t a lot of Triton moments but I wanted to get the ball rolling on the plot so that things and certain characters (*cough* Poseidon *cough*) will appear soon. Well that’s it for now, see you next time :)))

Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq

[annie-mit-ie]

Glimpses: Part 6 (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter

Summary: The Garden

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Hello there and sorry for the long wait! I wanted to move even further in the story but since this part already has 2.5k, I felt like it would be okay for me to end it here and continue with a new one tomorrow (that I plan to post within the next 2 days). It’s 2.40am, so, as always, if you find any mistakes - keep them :) 

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You stare at you screen, mouth gasping wide open. Other than breathing, you don’t feel like you are capable of doing anything at all. Your phone shuts off again and you see yourself in the reflection of the now black screen, a look of disbelief plastered all across your face.

You look at the picture again and admire the breakfast contents for a short while before laying the phone aside to think of a proper response. People always say that you are supposed to wait for a little while, stay mysterious, seem unavailable. But thats just not who you are. She is thinking about you.

Just last week you had read an article about this phenomena and it being a new, additional love language. „This made me think of you“ is apparently the new way of telling someone you like them. Just as that thought crosses your head, you remember Alex is probably still on her phone right now and you should hit her with the news and figure out a good response together. She picks up the call immediately.

“Sweetheart!“ She greets you with a beaming smile, as always. “What’s up?“

“She texted.“ You say and wait for her response.

“Who?“, god, you can’t with this girl sometimes. Why is she so slow? “KATHRYN. She finally texted me!“ You exclaim in excitement, a little too loud.

Alex looks at you with wide eyes, frowning, as she scrunches up her nose trying to comprehend what you just said. “Oh… Ooooh. OH.“

“Exactly…“, you say and smile about her antics. “What are we gonna do now? You gotta tell me because I certainly don’t know!!“

Alex shakes her head. “Well, first of all, you gotta let me know what exactly she said in her message?“

She was right, you totally forgot, putting her on hold, you take a screenshot and shoot it her way. “It’s actually nothing special but somehow it’s very cute at the same time and I really need us to find the BEST response to that.“

The next few minutes consist of Alex pitching short puns to you, cute phrases and just simple acknowledgements, but nothing seems to fit. Especially since you yourself haven’t decided yet if you wanna start of flirty or not. You end up choosing the safest option and type „This looks beautiful! Hope you enjoy! xx Y/N.“ as a response. You aren’t quite please with it but, at the same time, you don’t wanna rush into things as long as you don’t know what was happening.

For a few minutes, you talk to Alex and ask her about her day and all, until she has to pick up dinner for her people - it’s Thursday after all and Thursday nights are family nights. She hits you with a “Go get her, tiger!“ and laughs at your face before she hangs up the phone.

Not expecting a reply from Kathryn anytime soon, you toss your phone on the sheets and lie down on your back to look at the ceiling that is plastered in those fluorescent stick on glow stars - a childhood sin. Just as you are about to close your eyes, the phone lights up again.

“Thanks :-) Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. Lot’s of work related stress. You wanna come over and have a glass of wine in my garden on Saturday.“

Saturday… What was Saturday? You know very well Kathryn has an event going on this Saturday, but maybe you were just wrong. Excited you shoot her a quick response, letting her know it’s all fine and that, of course, you would like to see her again.

Unsure if it is a date or a casual hang out, you decide to already start planning an outfit in your head - just in case it is a date after all - as you walk downstairs to join your mom for lunch.

Saturday morning went by way too slowly as you sort through the possible outfits you came up with. You had yelled at Alex right after having lunch with your mom and the both of you shot outfit ideas back and forth all Friday before you sat down and watched The Goonies with your mom. It’s one of your comfort movies and you were really glad your mom chose it because that meant you didn’t have to concentrate on something new.

She still doesn’t know about the „you and Kathryn“, but not because you don’t trust her enough or anything. No, simply because you don’t know what exactly is happening - so why worry her? The whole situation is weird to talk about with Alex, why would you make it worse by including your mom.

Still, you decided to not lie to her and actually told her that you’ve recently met someone new and you are spending at least Saturday with her. It felt only fair to let her know. Your mother was smart enough not to ask any further questions, though. Maybe she realized that it was still a touchy topic for you - who knows.

You finally decide on what to wear and put on your favorite summer dress. It’s black, flow-y and has sun flowers all over. You don’t really know how long you’ll stay, so you pick out the blazer Kathryn loved last weekend, as well. Sighting, you find your way to the bathroom where you  loosely tame your hair and put on some light make up. Just like last time you’re going for casual but not too casual. You look at yourself and smile. This dress really does make you feel beautiful!

A notification chimes through the room - it’s Alex reminding you that it’s about time to go outside so Kathryn’s driver can pick you up. You really didn’t want to have him drive you, but she insisted and since you were invited over for wine anyway, it really didn’t make any sense to take your car in the first place - especially since you’ll have to get home somehow, preferably tonight.

The driver is already there as you leave the house after kissing your mom on the cheek as you passed her on your way through he kitchen. “Good Afternoon, Miss Y/LN“, he greets you politely, as you take a seat in the back of the car.

The ride isn’t too long and you swore to yourself you would pay attention where you were going but the nervousness took over and so you’re spending the time on your phone, texting Alex and making sure your make up is okay and your hair is nicely framing your face.

Kathryn’s driver looks at you through the rear mirror: “Your first time over at Kathryn’s, hm?“

You look up and your eyes meet for a short second as you nod. “Don’t be intimidated by her. She is the nicest person I’ve ever worked for. You’re gonna love her.“ If only he knew. It actually makes you feel better, though. You don’t want to admit it, but you are very much intimidated by Kathryn and can’t wait for the first nervousness to wash down once again.

As you drive up to the house, it looks exactly like what you expected it to look like, while, at the same time, it looks completely different. She lives in the Hollywood Hills, but not where all the famous pop stars live. Her house is surrounded by plants. It looks calm, secure even and not at all like an actress lives in it. The yellow walls are welcoming and warm and the lack of modern architecture is balm for your soul.

The driver offers to open the door for you but you decline and, right as you step out of the car, the front door opens. Kathryn looks at you with the happiest face and opens her arms video to wrap you up in a big hug. “Y/N! I’m so glad you made it! Welcome!“

She looks at her driver. “Thank you for bringing her, Peter! I’ll see you later. Agnes will let you know when we have to leave, please take some time to yourself until then.“ Peter nods and starts the engine.

You look at Kathryn. Her eyelashes are highlighted by the slightest hint of mascara while the rest of her face appears to be completely natural. She is so beautiful. You’re close enough to her to be able to tell she is indeed not wearing any make up. Her hair is halfway up, flowing over her shoulders, and she is wearing a beautiful orange blouse, similar to one she had worn in one of her shows before, combined with blue jeans.

Even as you turn around, her lips don't lose their smile and she puts a hand on your lower back as she leads you into the house. You enter a long hallways that leads straight into a beautiful garden, much bigger than what you had expected. In one corner, there is a seating arrangement consisting of a seemingly quite comfortable corner couch and a wooden table. The rest of the garden is open and full of bushes and trees and you can’t even tell where it ends. A wine bottle in an ice bucket is already waiting for you, accompanied by two glasses, one on each side of the couch. “I like your dress, Y/N.“ Your breath hitches since a compliment was the last thing you would’ve expected.

“Thank you!“, you say with a bright smile, as you blush slightly which doesn’t go unnoticed by her. 

She winks at you, “Always, hon.“

Right as you are seated and she gets comfortable on the couch after filling your glasses, the door to the garden opens and a woman with long red hair dressed in all black, who is wearing a headset as she is holding a clipboard, walks towards the table. Her hair, loosely braided and tossed over one shoulder, is decorated by a pair of big sunglasses that are sitting on top of her head. She looks stressed as she looks up from her clipboard.

“Kathryn! I am sorry to interrupt, but I just need to let you know stylists are gonna be here in maximum three hours. You have to eat something before that.” Looking at the wine on the table, she adds: “Do you want me to order pizza or anything for you guys?“

You look back and forth between the two of them as you are trying to figure out who that woman is and what exactly they are talking about. Kathryn nods to every word that’s being said, completely focused on the woman. “Yes, Agnes, you’re right. Thank you. Please order the usual, we will share.“ 

She shoots you a smile. “You trust me?“ You nod eagerly, and you mean it, even though you are quite picky when it comes to food. Agnes looks at you and back to Kathryn before excusing herself with a polite smile. “Three hours, Kathryn, MAX.“

“Oh SHUSH.“, Kathryn laughs wholeheartedly as she picks up her glass of wine, prompting you to pick up yours as well. “Let me say something: I am very glad you accepted today’s invitation and I am sorry it’s gonna be stressful, but I’m sure it’ll be worth it and you’ll have a great time.“

You look at her confused. “Great… time?“ Obviously you would be having a great time while hanging with Kathryn, but the way she phrases it sounds like something other than sitting in the garden is happening.

“Did I… not tell you?“ Kathryn sets down her drink and scans you with worried eyes.

Your stomach drops for a moment as you shake your head slowly. “Oh silly me! Listen, I have been so busy ever since we’ve met. I got cast for a new movie had to meet with different producers all week and then they told me to attend the awards this weekend, which I thought were only held digitally and I must have totally forgotten to let you know that that was a thing. Agnes and Jennifer do a really good job at organizing things for me, but sometimes“, she taps her head, “this old friend is not doing it anymore.“

She looks really sorry and you have to admit you are very stressed right now and actually you feel like you might panic any moment, but just as you are about to worry too much, she places a hand on your forearm. “I would very much enjoy just spending three hours with you while I enjoy what was supposed to be my day off, but I would also like to take you to these MTV movie awards with me tonight, I you want to tag along.“

You are flashed by the offer and immediately want to say yes, but remember what you are wearing. “But… Kathryn.. I can’t go looking like THIS.“ She looks you up and down, her hand still placed on your arm, and you just know she wants to tell you again that you are beautiful, you can see it in her eyes, in the way she smiles at you. She doesn’t though and that makes you doubt that this could ever be more than just a hangout.

Your thoughts are immediately washed away, as a warm smile is playing around her lips. “Don’t worry about that, dear. After you told me that you are in the middle of your studies and you live alone with your mom, I figured fancy evening wear might not be something that you have currently lying around just like that. So.. we figured something out for you as well.“

She moves her hand over your arm and takes your hand in hers. “You don’t have to come, though, if you don’t feel like it. Don’t worry! I didn’t buy anything. I borrowed them from one of those fancy shops.“ - she didn’t. But you don’t need to know that.

Even though the thought of attending an event like that gives you anxiety, you already know what you want to do and softly squeeze her hand as you nod while a small smile creeps onto your face. “I would love to, Kathryn! Thank you for inviting me.“

It’s time to let go of her hand, but she doesn’t seem like she wants the connection to stop just yet, so, obviously, you don’t end it, either. Instead, you lock eyes with her and stay in position for as long as she allows you to. You don’t know how much time has passed until you catch yourself as your eyes dart down to her lips after she sticked her tongue out for a split second to moisten them.

For a short moment, you feel like Kathryn is getting nervous but this can’t be, can it? To loosen the tension that has built up, you laugh and let go of her hand to grab your drink again. “Let’s raise these glasses to a great night, shall we?“

She joins in and locks eyes with you once again, a sheepish grin on her face, while she slightly raises one of her eyebrows. “Well… I’m certainly glad you’re here with me tonight.“

[fandom-space-princess]

The Game of Us

Rating: T (gen, no warnings)

Chapter 2: Gabriel

A crevice splits the earth, clean through the center of the circular clearing. Beyond the crevice a woman is seated on a low stone. Her eyes are covered by a crimson blindfold, the only color he has yet seen in this realm. It stands in sharp contrast to her bone-white skin and hair, a slash of silken blood by which to obscure her vision.

Though he makes no sound, she smiles as he approaches. “Michael.” The sound of her voice fills him with a nameless relief. He has never heard that voice, and still, he knows her like a heartbeat.

Read below the cut, or on AO3

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Upstream, the path breaks away from the river, and turns inland among low rolling foothills. Memory of a memory: for the living, these hills would have been warm and verdant, groves of olive trees. As it is, this murky reflection of life is still the closest Michael has come to the world since his descent into this desolate realm. Part of him, the part that stirs accusations like betrayal and failure in his mind like water circling a drain, yearns to lose himself in the embrace of it. To sink back beneath the surface and go no further.

He presses on.

As the path narrows and twists among the trees, air heavy with the scents of forest and the distant sea, Michael hears the low murmur of a crowd. The sounds grow more distinct as he climbs. This too is strange: human crowds have no place here, in an inhuman afterlife. When at last the tree line breaks and the path spills abruptly into a clearing, he stares uncomprehending for long moments, absorbing the sight before him.

This was a temple, once. Ages gone, this would have been a marvel of solemn grandeur. Now only ruins remain, although they are surrounded by the spectral aura of the structures they must once have been. Looked at straight on, Michael sees crumbling plinths, broken marble columns supporting the remnants of ornate entablature around a circle of grass and shattered stone. If he squints, however, the afterimages come into sharper relief. Haunted by the ghosts of architecture long fallen to ruin, this place yet remembers what it was.

It is haunted by more than that.

************************************

The rough amphitheater in which he finds himself is crowded. Shades mill nearby, shadowy and indistinct, seated or standing and whispering among themselves. Their numbers are beyond counting: thousands, perhaps? More? He takes them for human, at first, or the memory of human. But then one’s perambulations lead it toward him, and before he can think to move the shade passes straight through him. It continues on without acknowledgement, and he is overcome by a sense of deep unease.

The creature had felt... angelic. Mindless, unthinking, but unmistakable for anything but grace, rather than soul.

The focal point of the shades lies ahead, at the base of the crumbling colonnade. A crevice splits the earth, clean through the center of the circular clearing. Beyond the crevice a woman is seated on a low stone. Her eyes are covered by a crimson blindfold, the only color he has yet seen in this realm. It stands in sharp contrast to her bone-white skin and hair, a slash of silken blood by which to obscure her vision.

Though he makes no sound, she smiles as he approaches. “Michael.” The sound of her voice fills him with a nameless relief. He has never heard that voice, and still, he knows her like a heartbeat.

He steps across the crevice in one long stride. As he does, he can’t help but look down and into it: the same frigid black waters that had led him here rumble past beneath the crust of rock at its lip. Michael settles beside the stone, facing outward into the theatre, mimicking her. “Gabriel. You’re... what are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know. Taking in the scenery.”

One of the shades cuts free of the larger mass of figures. It drifts closer, apparently with purpose, and when it reaches the bare earth opposite Gabriel, it kneels. Michael regards it with wary curiosity.

“They’re here for prophecy,” Gabriel supplies, in response to his unspoken inquiry. “The humans used to come to this place to lay offerings before their fortunetellers. I visited, once or twice. Way back when.” She hums, head bowed slightly, hands folded motionless in her lap. “I liked it better then. Much more lively. This incarnation lacks a certain je ne sais quoi.”

She turns her attention to the shade before her, unseeing but knowing, somehow, that it waits there.

The shade bows low in deference. Tell me what tomorrow holds for me, it asks, voice fleeting as an autumn breeze.

“An interesting question,” she replies. Her words are warm and indulgent. “What did today hold for you? If you’re willing to tell me, I’d like to know.”

The shade appears puzzled by the request. Nevertheless, it responds. I saw a death, at the end of a silver blade. Light and pain before, only smoke and ash after. A falling, a sinking, into the darkness and the silence. And then a rising, awakening, only to see the death again. Over and over I saw the death, until I grew heavy with dread, and found myself here. It pauses its recitation, suddenly pensive. I think the death was mine.

She opens her hands before her, palms up, a sweeping gesture that invites the shade to continue. A texture along her wrist glimmers, unexpected. For the first time, Michael looks closely at Gabriel’s form. Minute scales swirl along patches of her skin. They are pearlescent and smooth, softly aglow under the ever-present half-light.

“Tell me more. What did you learn from it? How did it make you feel?”

The shade mutters on, its voice rising and falling in cadence with the rush of water at their feet. Eventually it tapers off, settling back on its heels. It seems less substantial than before, in a way Michael finds difficult to define, ethereal form wispy and unburdened. Gabriel inclines her head in acknowledgement, and the spirit fades away, melting back into the crowd.

“You aren’t a prophet, Gabriel,” Michael observes. She tilts her head toward him, grinning. In her mouth he sees the flash of fangs.

“No,” she agrees readily. “I’m not. But I am a messenger. Or I was. And this place has such interesting ways of making its points. Metaphorical, if not necessarily colorful.” She smiles again, chuckles at her own joke.

“But you offered no guidance. No message, prophetic or otherwise.”

“Oh, Mikey. Always so literal-minded. But you’re right. Being here has given me so much to think about. Maybe it’s time I stopped with the talking, and took up listening.”

She uncrosses her legs from the stone, and moves to kneel on the ground before it. Her knees push out over the cusp of the crevice. Her feet emerge from beneath the fraying edge of her skirt, clawed and scaled. Michael extends a hand tentatively. Brushes the tips of his fingers along the scales at the curve of her ankle, feeling the staticky-smooth keratinous edges. She reaches out, and takes his hand in her own. Squeezes once, then lets it fall away.

“Brother?” Michael asks, although he’s not entirely certain what it is he seeks to hear from her.

“I woke up in this form.” She shrugs. “I could change it, if I wanted, but I think it suits my current occupation. She lived here, once. A nuisance to pretty much everybody in the area, this creature was killed for the mischief and misfortunes she inflicted on the region’s inhabitants and their livestock. Her bones were laid into the foundations when it was built. Now she sleeps, and she listens.” She shivers. “That’s her judgement. That’s her penance.”

“Why is any of this here, Gabriel? Do you know? A being awoke me on the shore, told me to find you. It says it needs us—that we must move on from here. It wasn’t the Shadow. I don’t know what it was.”

She laughs aloud at that, a sound that rings out in echoes, vanishing among the shades. “You really don’t know? Bro, that’s unobservant even for you. You just have to listen harder. Knowledge is easy to come by here, if you pay attention. As for the river, this river—” She leans down to trail her fingers through the crest of a wave. Flicks the water playfully at Michael. “Old man always had a sense for theatrics. ‘Behold, for before you lies the river Styx.’ As good a way as any to make his point. River of judgement: either it makes you invulnerable, or poisons you, and the only way to find out which you get is to roll the dice.”

Michael is silent for several long seconds, something icy and desperate in his throat. Finally: “Will you go, then? Move on, to whatever awaits us next?”

Gabriel’s hands rise to the sides of her face. She draws the blindfold delicately up and off, silk trickling through her fingers like river water. She blinks back at Michael. Her pupils are slitted, snakelike.

Ignoring his question, she takes his chin in her hand. Appraises him, gently tilting his head this way and that as she studies the image he wears. “Still carrying that torch, huh? Well, I won’t deny that he was good for you. But maybe raise your gaze a little, ok?” Her thumb strokes over his cheek, once, and her lips quirk into an affectionate half-smile. Then her hand falls away, and she turns, studying the water. “You don’t have to keep defining yourself by what you were, or what you did. You can choose something else, you know?”

She inhales deeply, steadying herself. Michael can only watch as, trembling faintly, she dips her hands into the waters of the Styx. Drawing her cupped hands to her mouth, she glances back at him one final time.

“But then, what do I know? I’ve carried out enough judgement for one lifetime. See you on the other side, Mike.”

She lowers her mouth to the water, and drinks, and dissolves away into the mist.

************************************

(Chapter notes:

- The form Gabriel has taken in this chapter is the body of the Delphyne, the half-serpent maiden who is said to have inhabited the caves in the upper slopes of Mount Parnassus. Her death at the hands of Apollo is associated with the founding of Delphi, the location which serves as the primary inspiration for this scene.)

[thenightgazer]

Mask of Rapture

When she received an invitation to play at a masquerade party on an infamous cruise ship, Maureen has an unfathomable hunch that something wrong will happen. Between her enchanting violin performance and the glamorous waltz, she encounters a mysterious masked man whom will introduce her to the horror that waits for all the passengers... and a promising passionate night with the devil himself.

Pairing : Vergil x Female Violinist OC/Female Reader

Rating : Explicit

Warning : Rough sex, SDT sex, mild blood, mild gore, blood kink, light dom/sub, exhibitionism, porn with plot

Keep reading or read it on AO3

Lady Midnight is an infamous luxurious cruise ship that sails from Red Grave to Europe continent for five days weekly. It’s known by its exquisite interiors and six-star service, as well as excellent cuisine and impeccable suites. Lady Midnight provides the best and elegant experience of travel curated to satiate the wanderlust of adventurists. The cruise ship is also known to hold a sophisticated dance party in the form of a masquerade party on the night before they reach back to Red Grave. All guests will be dressed up and gathered in the ballroom decorated with classic and stunning architecture, waltzing on the dancefloor until midnight. 

Maureen won’t be here if it wasn’t because of the invitation from the owner of the ship. She received an invitation email and a request to be the guest violinist for the masquerade party in exchange for free vacation on Lady Midnight for five days. She’s no stranger for any invitation from wealthy people to play at their prosperous party, but this is her first time to be invited to a masquerade party. She had prepared a dress and the suitable songs to set the mood and perfect atmosphere for a masquerade ball weeks before departure. 

After days floating on the ocean and discovering breathtaking yachting destinations, finally the big day is coming. 

Maureen has performed countless times on stage, yet she still feels the nauseous gut whenever it comes about public appearance. But somehow, the psychosomatic feeling doesn’t really bother her right now. Maybe it’s because everyone will wear a mask, so she can avoid their curious and prying eyes on her. She’ll have more concentration to do her job. Just one or two hours playing, she reminds herself. Then I’ll enjoy Europe before the ship takes me back to Red Grave. 

Maureen folds her hands on her chest as she observes a white long sleeve maxi cape dress, a pair of heels and a matching colombina mask on the bed. She was thinking of buying some fancier gown, but she finally decided to buy something comfortable to wear because she needs full concentration for the concert rather than paying extra attention to her clothing. Don’t have time to add exaggerated accessories and worry about whether it would look fine on me or not.  

Satisfied with her choice of clothes, Maureen sits in front of the vanity table and begins to put some makeup on her face. She doesn’t put too much since she’s going to wear a mask anyway, so she emphasizes her full lips with mauve lipstick. Then she covers her body with the dress—its front thigh-high slit lifts her confidence. She straps the heels on her feet and puts the mask on to cover half of her face. Not bad, she watches herself in satisfaction while combing her black hair. 

The party will begin approximately in half an hour. Maureen has received an announcement that there will be a briefing before the party starts and all the crew will be gathered. While she’s not part of the crew, she’s still expected to attend as a guest star and part of the orchestra team. She wastes no time anymore and takes her violin case, heading to the ballroom. 

-- 

Maureen senses something wrong since the first time she stepped on the stage. 

She opens her violin case, observing the enticing violin and waits until the patrons of Lady Midnight—Lord and Lady Campbell arrive at the middle of the ball. The wife’s patron is smiling brightly as her husband bows down to ask her for a dance. While the couple are ready for the waltz and the applause from the guests are over, Maureen places the violin to her shoulder tucked under the chin and gives the audience a formal smile before drawing the bow across the strings. She can feel the tense atmosphere around the orchestra team as she starts to move the bow. Drawing the violin bow is like moving the pendulums; throw one and the other pendulums would follow before finally repelling back to the first pendulum. As light as a butterfly lands over the water and flies again at once.  

Shostakovich’s Waltz No. 2 is her first play and everyone’s favorite song in every masquerade ball. The sound of a violin can capture emotions, even the ones that are buried deep in a human's heart. She has seen how humans surrender to the ethereal sound of harmony. They rise at the beginning of the song and fall to the bittersweet emptiness when it’s over, leaving the unfathomable ache in their heart. Which is the reason why Maureen loves violin. It’s like the violin speaks on her behalf. Her way to connect with the world. 

Yet for the first time since a while, Maureen feels a jolt of perturbation come out of nowhere as she takes a glimpse to the crowd, searching for an answer.  

Something is wrong, Maureen is certain about that. But what could it be— 

And that’s when she caught the piercing blue eyes gazing at her behind a golden Venetian mask. 

Curious, because Maureen can’t look away from the man who possesses those eyes. If only she could just ignore him, she would have succeeded to perform the perfect vibrato on the next notes. It wasn’t a fatal mistake, nor that people would’ve noticed the almost flat tone. But she’s a professional violinist. She shouldn’t have made an amateur move just because a man with striking eyes was watching her performance. 

It was him, Maureen stared back at the mysterious man. From the stage, she can vaguely see his silver hair behind the mask. His tall and firm posture are visible, even if he stands between the crowd. All the people in this ballroom wear masks, and it’s odd that she can tell the way he looks at her is different from any other guests. It’s almost like he can see right through me… 

As the patrons end their first dance, the guests make their move and sway to the dancefloor. The man with striking blue eyes disappears amongst the hustle. Maureen doesn’t know what kind of effrontery that consumes her to trail for that man from the corner of her eyes during the seamless transition she made to the next song. Gundry’s The Vampire Masquerade is probably her most favorite piece. The scandalous and fiendish tunes are extremely apt for this Halloween masquerade, and her prediction was right: the guests spin their body faster and swirl their illustrious and extravagant fabrics as if they’re hypnotized by the melody. 

It’s hard for Maureen to find the mysterious man amongst the sea of eminent painting. 

Who is he? Maureen asks herself. I sense something dangerous about him. 

The dark and lustrous atmosphere lasts for one hour. When Maureen finally rests her hands, she can feel how tired she is. But it wasn’t because of her playing, it’s the unsettling feeling that constantly lingers all over the ballroom. She bows and smiles as the guests give their applause and appraisal before she takes her leave from the stage, blending in the crowd while the orchestra team continue their job. Lady Campbell welcomes her at the food section. She and a group of women in Victorian gowns hand her a glass of champagne and toasting for the success of the masquerade party. 

“Miss Graves, was it? I’ve never seen such a divine and elegant performance! I was never an enthusiastic dancer until you tune your violin and enchanted us!” The woman in a red mask greets Maureen. Her glass is trembling a bit when she continues her appraisal. Maybe she’s drunk already, Maureen keeps her smile still as she thanks all the compliments from the women and observes the group’s chatter. They talk about recent destinations, some inconveniences of Lady Midnight’s service, gossip about some influential guests, and finally the one that caught Maureen’s attention; a disturbing issue that there could be a demon on this ship. 

“My husband and I have a great concern regarding Lady Midnight’s security. He recruited the best security team and mercenaries to protect this ship. You don’t have to worry about the thing. They guard us until we’re back to Red Grave tomorrow.” Lady Campbell reassures the worried women, but Maureen can hear a degree of hesitation from her words. 

“Mercenaries?” Maureen asks cautiously. 

A woman in purple gown taps her shoulder. “You know, devil hunters.” 

The women let out exaggerated gasps. 

“It’s for precaution, of course,” Lady Campbell interrupts. “With the tragedy of a mysterious tree that happened three years ago, we can’t let our guard down anymore.” 

“Agreed! Besides, we sailed for almost five days and there’s no update about the demon or whatever it is!” the woman in purple gown convinces them, taking a side with Lady Campbell. 

“But Mrs. Tyrell, I swear I heard something hissing from the room beside me!” the woman in yellow mask shivers. “On the first night I thought it was just the sound of the sea, but last night I’m sure that it was something else. I’m not imagining things! Even my husband heard that too!��� 

“You’re not the only one who said that,” the woman in the golden lace mask agrees. “I heard Baron and Baroness Powell complain about the noisy sound from their room’s ceiling. They said it felt like there’s a snake up there! Could it be a demon? For God’s sake, we can’t even breathe for a second because those monsters are everywhere!” 

The woman in green lace gown, whom Maureen considers to be the most beautiful than the rest of them, laughs at their worries. “Nonsense! Let’s not disrespect our patron’s kindness and just enjoy this party! If Lady Campbell said that this ship is safe, then it is!” 

The other women seem to disagree with that unbelievable cheerful reassurance. But the patron’s wife exclaims her agreement, despite her forceful fake smile and excitement. “Miss Malia was right! Let us continue to live up this ball. Let me show you our rare collection of paintings in this ballroom. Miss Graves, please come join us!” 

Maureen shakes her hand, even though the group shows their interest for her to join them. “I think I will stay a while for more champagne. Enjoy the tour, my ladies.” 

The group bids their farewell, much to Maureen’s pleasure. She takes one more glass of champagne from the tray and swallows a half of it. The unsettling feeling is stronger after she heard the possible demon issue. That man. Was it him? Is he a demon? Maureen has seen demons in her life, but she can’t comprehend why she didn’t feel the same dangerous atmosphere as she was when she caught the mysterious man’s eyes… 

… like she does right now. 

The man is very much taller than she expected. His clothes show off the gallant and menacing impression; a dark blue ascot wrapped around his neck and black vest under black three-tailed coat with silver serpent patterns runs around the collar. His hands were covered by dark fingerless gloves. His black pants and gaiter boots emphasize his beautiful and toned legs. His face is covered in a simple golden Venetian mask, giving a contrast to his dark attire. Even without looking behind that mask, Maureen knows that this man must be gorgeous, and now he’s approaching her. 

Oh God. It’s too late to run away. 

The man hands her his hand. “My lady.” 

Maureen hesitates, but it’s rude to ignore someone’s good intention. If only he really had a good intention to me, she smiles as she lets him give a light kiss on her palm. 

“I must say that your violin performance was magnificent. It’s been a while since the last time I saw such a splendid performance.” The man’s husky voice is irresistible. He speaks in a calm and posh mannerism, yet the voice sends the chill down to Maureen’s spine. Moreover, she feels a strange heat rush inside her body. She looks at her glass, pondering if it was the alcohol did its trickery. 

“Thank you. It was my pleasure to entertain the guest as well,” Maureen responds at the praise formally as usual. “Although I have to say, it’s my first time playing in a masquerade party.” 

“Hard to believe that it’s your first time, with that eloquent violin play of yours. This ball finds its life thanks to you.” 

“You’re too flattering, Sir.” 

Maureen hears a chuckle behind the man’s mask. She’s so nervous that she imitates his chuckle out of courtesy. “Do you fancy champagne, Sir? I can get you—” 

“Please, no need to offer me a drink. I’ve been told that the champagne is extraordinary, but I prefer not to drink.” 

“Can’t stand alcohol?”  

“I’m afraid so.” 

“No way!” She doesn’t know where this audacity to tease him comes from. It must be the champagne, Maureen convinces herself.  

The man chuckles again as he offers his hand. “Instead of drinking, I’d be honored if my lady doesn’t mind me asking for a dance.” 

Maureen stares at his hand before taking a glance to the dancing floor. She notices the orchestra team is playing Gundry’s Tonight Ve’ Dance. I like this song, Maureen admits half-heartedly, but… this stranger… “I’m not particularly good at dancing.” she laments at her poor excuse. 

“I can teach you,” Maureen can sense that he’s smiling as she catches a warmer gaze from the man’s eyes. “You will catch up in no time, I believe that.” 

This man is persistent. Knowing that it’s useless to refuse his offer, she accepts his hand. Maureen observes the mysterious silver-haired man who leads her to the middle of festivity. He nods as he wraps his right hand on Maureen’s waist and his other hand reaches her hand. That little gesture surprises her and she doesn’t know why. She finds it hard to just breathe, sensing his fixated eyes on her lenient body in a strange, intimate way. 

And it takes her whole bravery to finally put her left hand on his broad shoulder. 

Neither one of them say a word as the man guides her tenderly in tune to the music. Maureen follows his movement thoroughly, stepping her left feet forward and backward. Their masked faces are facing each other, as if they are seeking answers from their unspeakable question. He raises their entangled hands, and she twirls gracefully before he holds her body, pulling her ever close to his embrace again when she turns around to face him again. 

“Strange,” he remarks. “You’re unexpectedly a quick learner. Viennese waltz is quite tough for beginners.” 

Thank God I wear a mask right now. “You must be an outstanding teacher then.” 

“Quite the contrary, I believe you have talent in dancing,” the man chuckles. His caresses on Maureen’s back are subtle, yet it’s a sensuous one. “A natural one, apparently.” 

Maureen can’t hide her canny smirk. “Alright then. I must confess that I was lying when I said I’m not good at dancing.” 

The man moves his head forward, his mouth murmurs a whisper to the shell of her ear. “I knew that already, Miss Graves.” 

The radiating warmth from the man’s layers of cloth sends a tingle of strange desire through Maureen at the touch. She clings to him tighter than before, not willing to avoid his cold blue eyes, not even dare to breathe for fear that he might notice her heated, sacrilegious desire. She was never attracted to strangers, until this man showed up and broke her rules. Her little white lie is just fueling the tension between them; his seems intrigued by the lie, but he says nothing. Instead he continues the dance as if he never heard her confession. His gaze indicates his attraction to her, witnessing how delicate she moves between his strong arms. Given their contrast vibes from their dances, anyone could mistake them as an angel and a devil—one is graceful and delicate in white gown, while the other one sparks perilous seduction in dark attire. 

“You haven’t mentioned your name.” Maureen confesses her curiosity. 

“I thought you would never ask,” he says lightly. “You can call me Vergil.” 

“Vergil…” she mumbles the man’s name. Her vision drifts away as a brief memory resides in her head for a while. “Where did I hear that name before…?” 

“If you’re familiar with Dante’s Divine Comedy, you’d find my name mentioned plenty of times there.” 

“I know that. But I heard that name recently…” 

“Perhaps from poetry. Aeneid is Virgil’s infamous work.” 

“I know! But… no... not from poetry.” she doubts herself. She’s certain that she heard his name somewhere else.  

“Memories are dangerous things, Miss Graves. It could help you or betray you.” 

“Then it’s best to leave it be,” Maureen twirls ecstatically and leaning back against Vergil’s chest. “Mr. Vergil, I believe today is the first time I see you since the first day of voyage.” 

“I’ve been working behind the scene,” Vergil covers her small hands with his arms. “For the sake of this ship’s safety.’ 

Maureen tilts her head over him. “You’re one of the mercenaries?” 

“Why, Miss Graves. I presumed Lady Campbell had told you.” 

A rush of dread fills Maureen’s veins right after Vergil’s disclosure. 

“Lord Campbell contacted me two weeks ago,” he continues, his eyes trace on Maureen’s sudden discomfort. “Rumors about sea monsters sends him on his edge.” 

“Did you… find any demons then?” 

Vergil pulls her hand gently to make her face him. His words are certain and undeniable, chilling her to the marrow. “Yes.” 

Maureen stops her moves at once, barely breathing and unable to think clearly. So, here’s why his presence terrifies me. Each of her nerves are screaming, forcing her to just escape him. But he seems to expect this reaction—he squeezes her hand and waist gently, with eyes linger to her bitten lips as if he prevents her from running away. “Have you heard rumors spoken by the guests? They said they heard slither and croaky hissing every midnight. I found a body devil hunter who was supposed to work with me in his room—his bones were salient because his blood was drained like a mummy. And this morning, Madame Cross’s little baby is paralyzed. He’s still alive, but unable to wake from his sleep. I believe the demon is currently in this ballroom with us.” 

Maureen’s jolt of shock gives Vergil his answer to his unspeakable question. He continues to step forward, followed by Maureen who is trying to hide her fear by her steady steps. She accidentally steps on Vergil’s toe, which Vergil just laughs casually at it. His crisp laugh sounds lethal in her ears, as if the Death itself were laughing at her. Maureen’s brain can’t cope with dreadful terror she’s facing right now. She grips onto Vergil’s shoulders, slightly clawing his fine coat. 

Of course, Vergil notices this as he stops moving, lifting Maureen’s chin in a tender way.  “You look rather pale, my lady. Am I scaring you?” 

She shakes her head immediately. “I’m fine. I just wondered… do you have a name for that demon in your mind?” 

Vergil nods, glancing at the crowd as the orchestra team has stopped the music and people give them applause. “I’m certain that there are almost twenty Lamias lurking around the ball.” 

Lamia? Maureen gasps with eyes wide open. Twenty Lamias? Why can’t I feel their presence—wait, this man… he doesn’t know that I am— 

“Impressive. They hide themselves quite well. It’s difficult to notice their presence. But now their patience has worn out. They won’t wait anymore. It should be easy, yet…” he continues, holding both of Maureen’s palm and lifting them to meet his tantalizing lips. “I need more time to figure out what you are.” 

He… knows? 

Just right when the question was about to leave the tip of Maureen’s tongue, the unforeseen power outage shocked all the passengers. The baffling voices spread through the room, shouting questions and complaints. Maureen can hear Lord Campbell’s raging yell to his employees and demands them to turn on the power at instant. In the middle of this uproar, she’s surprised by a comforting feeling from the presence of Vergil, whose arms are covering her body. It’s almost like he’s protecting her, despite their previous austere tension. The dark always calms her, yet she can’t really enjoy it now, for she knows that this power outage was intentional. “It’s them, right?” 

“Apparently so,” Vergil agrees. “I can even hear them snarling right now.” 

“But why now…?” 

“A room full of prey is perfect for feasting, don’t you think so?” 

It sounds like he throws me sarcasm. “I… don’t know…” Maureen loses her words. 

The light turns on, followed by relieved sighs from the guests. But it doesn’t last, for a ghastly scream of a woman deafens the entire ballroom. The crowd circles between her, witnessing her howl of anguish over a mummified, dead body of a masked man under her extravagant Edwardian dress. Such a horrid view, raising a ruckus among the guests. Another petrifying scream comes followed by demonic roars. Some guests turn into monstrous snake-like demons while melting their human skins. They feast on whoever closest nearby, sucking their blood and clawing out their eyes before they gulp it down. 

“Mr. Vergil!” Lord Campbell arrives from nowhere. Clearly, he doesn’t look very happy when he sees Vergil just stand still with Maureen. “What are you doing there?! THEY SLAUGHTER ALL OF MY GUESTS!” 

Vergil chaffs mockingly at the cruise ship’s patron. “But it was your plan all along, wasn’t it? You and your Lamia lover. Do you really think you can fool me, Lord Campbell?” 

Confusion clouds on Lord Campbell’s face as he startles when Vergil summons a katana out of thin air. He unleashes it from the scabbard, pointing the tip of the blade to the patron. “Go. Run for your life. I will find you soon after I exterminate those abominable demons.” 

As expected, Lord Campbell runs away, ditching and pushing people around him like a tortured animal. Maureen was about to chase him, but Vergil grabs her shoulder. “Find Lady Campbell. Keep her safe.” 

“But you said he and his Lamia lover—” 

“Lady Campbell is not the Lamia queen. I know that for sure. The queen is somewhere here. I’ll go find her once I slay her subordinates,” Vergil draws his sword, glaring at a Lamia that taunts him and cuts its head in a single slash. “Can I count on you, Miss Graves?” 

Maureen can sense how dangerous and powerful Vergil is just by witnessing how he killed the Lamia. He isn’t a human. I’m sure of it. I cannot imagine how terrifying it must be… to be at his complete mercy. The katana… was forged in darkness. Just like me. 

She finally gives him a nod. Her hand reaches into her thigh-high slit of her dress, pulling out a handgun she always brings with her wherever she goes. It is loaded, but she doesn’t bring more ammunition in case the situation gets worse than she had imagined. “Then I can count on you to demolish those snakes, Mr. Vergil.” 

“Certainly, Miss Graves.” 

“Call me Maureen.” 

Vergil gives her a final grin before he goes at a speed of light to the hustle. 

Although she’s still in awe from witnessing Vergil’s superhuman speed, Maureen takes a haste to find Lady Campbell. She rushes to the east side of the ballroom, where Lady Campbell was last seen. She shudders when she sees a pile of mummified women bodies, which a moment ago was the group of women she had encountered for champagne. Maureen aims her gun at a woman in green gown who pins and chokes Lady Campbell to the wall. “Put her down, Miss Malia.” 

The queen of Lamia hisses at her, chuckling in croaky laughter. “Well, well, if it isn’t our lovely violinist.” 

“I should’ve realized it. Your choice of alias is terrible.” 

“Yet people didn’t notice,” the Lamia queen drops Lady Campbell, leaving her coughing breathlessly. “Pitiful humans. I promised Lord Campbell prosperous life and money because he’s about to be penniless, only if he gives me humans as sacrifice. He said this pathetic ship was his last chance, and he’s right. Tonight, there will be no humans left in this ship—” 

A bullet comes through her chest before she encloses her words. Maureen puts a finger on the trigger again. “You finished?” 

“My dear, look at you,” Lamia queen slowly pads to Maureen. “I don’t know what you are, but you’re not a human. Why bother protecting them? We can work together, you know that.” 

Maureen pulls the trigger right to the queen’s forehead. “I’m not interested.” 

The Lamia queen bursts out laughing. Her clothes are torn apart, skins melt and reveals her beautiful human face turns into her original bestial face. Her fangs lengthen as her lower body transforms into a gigantic snake body. The wound on her head heals quickly in just a second. “My dear, you should use a silver bullet.” 

She’s right. I left my silver ammo in my room. “I can still kill you.” 

“How? There’s no silver in this ship. Campbell threw it all to the ocean.” 

“And you believe he checked all the rooms? That’s far-fetched.” 

“At least in this room. Doesn’t matter. You're all going to die here anyway.” 

The queen charges an attack to Maureen, but the violinist is quicker. She repels the attack and launches the bullet to the queen’s head again, this time is calmer and takes a precise move to bait the queen to the stage. Fucking heels, she takes off her shoes while evades insistent strikes from Lamia queen. The ballroom seems a little bit spacious since most of the guests are running out from the room and the rest are dead, or still trying to escape this madness. She catches Vergil’s tall and firm stature in the middle of the dance floor, swinging his sword in remarkable versatility. His attack is quick and precise while keeping his distance from a pack of Lamia, not even a drop of Lamia’s blood can reach him. His fighting movement is like dancing, ponders Maureen as she observes him unleashes rapid slashes with a vortex of purple-blue energy that instantly kills all the Lamia around him. She can’t even see when he unsheathes his sword and puts it back to the scabbard again. 

“Where are you looking at, girl? I’m right here!” the Lamia queen taunts her; her yellowed eyes turn darker, an evidence of her hunger and eagerness to feast on Maureen. 

A light smile appears on Maureen’s face as she keeps firing the queen. “Oh, I forgot you’re still here.” 

Almost here, Maureen jumps to the wrecked stage and searches her violin case viciously. Still intact and undamaged! 

“Oh, poor Miss Graves…” the Lamia queen hisses, enjoying Maureen’s confusion. “Ran out of bullets?” 

“I don’t need that anymore,” Maureen tosses her gun to Lamia’s head, raising the queen’s anger while she slithers faster to where Maureen stands right now with an unnatural crave to kill the violinist. Keeping her calm and composed mind together, Maureen draws her violin bow with anticipation. I hope this is going to work. Can’t rely on Vergil right now… 

“DIE!” the Lamia queen attacks in an ambush, wrapping herself around Maureen’s body and squeezing it tighter as Maureen tries to escape. 

“You should have accepted my invitation earlier, Miss Graves,” the Lamia queen giggles unpleasantly. “Maybe I could spare you, even letting you eat those humans.” 

“I… don’t eat… human flesh,” Maureen pants. 

“Pity. Then I shall—AAAARRGHH!” 

The tight wrap around Maureen’s body loosens gradually as the Lamia queen screams in agony. “Wretched human! How dare you stab me?!” 

Maureen, still adjusting her breath, raises her violin bow. “It's a silver mounted bow, bitch.” 

Despite the pain from her perforated tail, The Lamia queen still manages to launch another attack even though it’s getting slower. Maureen keeps stabbing her with the violin bow, piercing its grip to the demon’s body as much as she can. The amount of silver in the winding is too little, but it’s better than nothing. The Lamia queen forces her to leave the stage again, her sloppy movement causes her hand to bleed by the sharpness of the bow hair. 

“You cannot defeat me with that flimsy stick of yours!” the Lamia queen declares assertively. Black, thick blood is spilled from holes that Maureen has created on the beast’ body, yet she shows no signs of surrender. 

“I know,” Maureen admits wholeheartedly, eyes fixate on the snake demon in front of her and points the violin bow to her direction. “But he can.” 

Even before the Lamia queen could figure Maureen’s words, a sharp blade passes through the queen’s chest as she wails in suffering, looking at a fatal wound on her chest. 

“Don’t get so cocky,” the man in a golden Venetian mask warns the queen. “Now, you’re going down.” 

He pulls back his sword before he swings it again to decapitate the Lamia queen, leaving no chance for the demon to revive her body once and for all. Its headless body falls motionless, ending the terror on the ship. Maureen looks up at Vergil, who’s still clean from Lamia's blood, contrasting to her blood-soaked dress. She was going to greet him, only if Vergil didn’t look at her in a poignant way. She wonders why Vergil stares at her with that look—a curious, intrigued gaze that makes her feel like she’s naked. 

When she glances at a wall of mirror, she gets her answer. Her mask is gone, leaving her face exposed entirely. But that’s not her main concern. 

Her onyx eyes are now as red as blood. 

Vergil sees it, and he still hasn’t sheathed his sword. 

He’s going to kill me. 

“Miss Graves!” 

Maureen quickly blinks her eyes, transforming her red eyes to her original black ones as Lady Campbell, now without her mask, runs at her hastily. She’s accompanied by security team and sea marshals, asking if she’s hurt anywhere and thanking her for her help. The medics has arrived to heal the guests. The security crew rush into the ballroom and shout at the undamaged survivor to come back to their room while they clean up the mess. Maureen has no choice but follows Lady Campbell heading out from the ballroom, pestering at Maureen’s wounded palm. She turns her head back at Vergil, who’s still staring at her while giving reports to the marshals, consumed by either curiosity or desire to kill her. 

Maybe both, Maureen’s body begins to tremble in fear, without hope for the devil hunter to spare her life. 

-- 

The cruise ship returns to normal and quiet soon after the marshals arrest Lord Campbell, who was about to jump to the ocean before the marshals caught him. Lady Campbell had told Maureen about the arrest, and how her husband went hopeless because his company is going bankrupt. He started to constantly beat up his wife and abandon his responsibilities, but Lady Campbell had never spared any thought about the lord would gone too far as sealing a pact with Lamia and intended to sacrifice all passengers, including herself. 

That was when she told Maureen how grateful she was for having Vergil on board, which reminds her again about Vergil’s threatening demeanor. 

Once Maureen had left Lady Campbell’s room to let her rest, she rushes to her own room. All passengers are obliged to stay in their rooms until Lady Midnight arrives on Red Grave to prevent any danger while the crews continue to maintain the safety of the ship. Most of the passengers have already stated that they will sue this ship once they arrive on Red Grave, which is not surprising since nobody wanted bloodbath on a vacation. Maureen decides to pass the crowd by hiding in the shadow, letting herself blended with the darkness… until she becomes one with the dark and travels between the shadows into her room. 

She doesn’t bother to turn the light on and makes her way to the bathroom, ripping her bloody dress off and taking a shower. Her wounded palm hurts a little when the water drips on it. Lady Campbell asked her to go to the medic, but Maureen refused. All she needs right now is time for herself. She needs to think how to escape this ship before Vergil finds her. Perhaps I could hide in the shadow again until it’s safe, Maureen muses as she wraps a bathrobe over her body. He won’t realize it. He said he still needs to figure out what kind of creature I am… 

A vibrating, almost inaudible knock comes from the windows balcony, startling Maureen to her aghast. Vergil is there, comes out of nowhere while Maureen thinks she’s safe right now. Her body is freezing, and can't even think about any anticipation especially when she spots Vergil is still holding his sheathed katana. She knows Vergil will find out her room soon, but she never thought he would find this soon. He says something to her, but the window is soundproof. Not that she wanted to open the window for him. It’s not too late to shadow travel, Maureen checks on the room’s surrounding, ignoring Vergil’s persistent knocks. 

Flashy blue light from the window distracts her concentration. Vergil sends his sword off to the thin air. He raises both of his hands as a sign of peace. His mouth moves in a certain shape of words: ‘I’m not here to hurt you. Would you please let me in?’ 

I can’t trust him, Maureen shakes her head. But, he’s a hunter. If I escape now, he will find me again somehow. 

Casting aside her fear, she reaches her hand to the knob, unlocking the window. Must Vergil exhibit any slightest gesture to attack her, she’s ready to escape in the shadow anytime. The man finally comes in, offering his hand to the violinist. “May I see your hand, Maureen? I noticed the bow scratched your left palm.” 

“It’s okay,” Maureen hides her hands behind her back. “What do you want, Mr. Vergil?” 

“Just call me Vergil. No more formality,” Vergil takes one more step closer to her, his hand still waiting for her. “Please, I just want to make sure if you’re okay.” 

“Aren’t you going to kill me?” 

“My lady, I have no slightest idea on how you perceive me as someone who wants to kill you.” 

“You… you know who I am. And you are a devil hunter. I saw your desire to kill me soon after you beheaded the Lamia queen.” 

For a moment, none of them speaks their mind out. They just stand still, eyes trailing on each other, but it’s different from their last encounter. Vergil takes her left hand carefully, this time he receives no resistance from Maureen. He caresses the vertical wound, eyebrows furrowed, as if he feels the pain as well. “You are the first non human being I’ve encountered in this ship.” 

“What?” 

“I thought you were a vampire. Your pale skin and red eyes when in danger or thirst resembles them,” Vergil moves his thumb over the scar. “But you are not a vampire. You walk freely in broad daylight. You didn’t flinch on silver, but you hesitated whenever there’s an iron nearby. Iron doesn’t hurt you, but it makes you uncomfortable. I didn’t know what you are at that time, therefore I decided to just keep an eye on you.” 

Maureen lets him cup both of her palms, calmly exhales as she gives him a hint of smirk. “Do you know what I am now, Vergil?” 

“Why, yes,” Vergil gives a peck on the top of Maureen’s palm, then locking her hands on his chest. “I saw you absorbing human’s energy every night when most passengers are asleep. Out there, at your balcony.” 

“That’s impossible! Normal humans can’t see energy form—” 

“But I am not a normal human. I bet I’m the only one in this ship who can see that, since all the Lamia are now dead,” Vergil’s head is slightly lowered, his masked face is still unreadable, yet now it radiates more warmth and… compassion. “You have many names… and I believe humans rarely aware of your presence. Plaksy, krisky, night hag… gorska makva…” 

Maureen finds herself struggling to move as Vergil circles her until he stops right behind her, fingers trailing on Maureen’s tensing shoulders. She feels his hot minty breath getting closer to her ear, whispering his precise statement. 

“… nocnitsa.” 

Fuck. 

The only sound that breaks the silence is just the heavy breathing coming from them. Vergil’s firm and warm hands rest on Maureen’s shoulders before he gives them a small massage as if to ensure her to stay still. His touch makes her flinch, trembling from his unexpected delicious movements. 

“You’re known as a spirit who drains life energy from humans. Sitting on their chest as you suck their energy, causing them experiencing sleep paralysis. Some source said you take a liking to children, because their dreams are richer than adults…” he continues his pressure on her shoulders. “We both know it���s folklore version. Nocnitsa lives by sucking life energy from every living being in every possible way, not just by sitting on their chest. The stronger their emotions and dreams; be it nightmare or pleasant dream, the more strength you’d gain. Greater amount of drained energy can cause nightmares and paralysis to their victim, even death.” 

The vibration of his voice propelling tension throughout Maureen’s body as Vergil presses his entire front body against her back.  

“Evil nocnitsa loves to drain energy until their victim run out of life energy,” Vergil’s lips touch her reddened ear. “They are known to terrorize children in their sleep. Feeding on their dream slowly...” 

Maureen tries her best to form a sentence. “Madame Cross’ baby—it wasn’t me. I’m not that heartless—” 

“I know,” his finger lingers on Maureen’s lips, caressing it to slightly open her mouth. “The baby woke up once the Lamia queen was slayed. Apparently, Madame Cross realized that her baby’s paralysis happened after a teatime with Miss Malia, the queen’s human form. My best guess is that the baby was sensitive to evil presence and the queen casted a spell to put him to long slumber, perhaps to silence him or eat him later.” 

“T-that’s horrid…” Maureen’s voice is barely recognizable, carefully moving her lips without accidentally bite Vergil’s finger while she’s captured between Vergil’s embrace. “But… Vergil… who are you…?” 

“Me?” he chuckles darkly. “I’m a cambion.” 

Human and demon’s offspring? No way. Could it be… “Vergil… one of the sons of Sparda?” 

His short hum says it all.  

That’s why his name sounds familiar to me. And no wonder I feel danger whenever he’s around. Such an odd circumstance to have him here… capturing me in my own room… 

Vergil nips her earlobe lightly, raising the unyielding pressure in her throbbing core. She can hear his removed mask falling on the floor as she automatically turns to face him, but he stops her. His hand rested on her nape, asserting his control and dominance. 

“I want to see you.” Maureen breathes heavily. 

“Not yet,” Vergil declines steadily. 

He lowers his index finger from her nape, trailing a slow and subtle stroke up the center of her spine. Maureen nods slightly at his refusal, surrenders completely to his touches. His finger ends on her stomach, exactly at the bathrobe’s belt... 

“May I have you, Maureen?” he purrs, skimming his lips across her neck. “Will you have me?” 

“Yes,” she leans back into him, feeling his throbbing erection through his pants, pulsing hard into her spine. “Yes… Please… Vergil…” 

Vergil grasps the belt and pulls it off, lowering the bathrobe and exposing Maureen’s bare skin. She can hear his breath gets heavier, growling at the sight of her. Maureen is completely naked before him; her fair and very pale skin is glowing in the darkness of the room. He kisses her smooth long black hair tenderly, inhaling the intoxicating scent of hers.  

“You are exceptionally beautiful, beloved,” his words are full of conviction. “Now... you and me…” 

He removes his hands from her body. Maureen can’t believe that she misses the heat from Vergil’s body already. She feels hollow and empty, and he hasn’t even touched her properly. She hears more stuff falling on the floor; his coat, vest, pants, even boots. Only then she realizes that they both are clothless. His lips back on her shoulder again and giving them tiny little bites. He pulls her to lean on his chest again, this time Maureen can feel his bare skin entangled with hers in a feverish heat. His hands grip her hips as if he wants her to move closer to him. One of those firm hands heading up in a mild but definite motion to her right breast, circling her nipple with his thumb. Her nipple lengthens at that contact. Her whimper creates a small grin at the corner of his lips. He’s aware of the effect he’s having on her. 

“Already this eager, my dear?” he murmurs, still pecking on her shoulders. He brings his other palm to cup her other breast, squeezing them in painfully slow motion. Her breasts become heavy as her whimper gradually changes into wanton moans. 

“Haaa… Vergil…” Maureen whines. Her shaking palms settle on Vergil’s arms, holding at him tight as she follows his palm’s movement over her aching mounds. Her head arches back by the intimate pleasure from her chest and her already wet cunt. The knead on her mounds are getting harder when Maureen forces herself to turn her head over to see Vergil as a warning that he doesn’t allow her to see him yet. 

“I told you, haven’t I? Not yet.”  

Her eagerness excites him, makes him want to delve more inside her. His right palm leaves her chest, long and hot fingers of him lands on the outside of her wet flower. He barely moves any of his fingers, yet it sends unbearable shiver all over Maureen’s body while she shakes her head and shut her eyes out of pleasure. 

“Don’t look away. Look at yourself, Maureen. Look at how my fingers are going to fill your tight cunt up.” Vergil’s command is undeniable. Maureen does exactly as he orders, not dare to spare a glance from her lower body. It’s quite hard to see her beautiful vagina being invaded by Vergil’s skillful fingers in this position, while his fingers are moving in and out of her, stretching her hot walls. Maureen’s face burns up from hearing wet and amoral noises which grow louder in the room. She tightens her grip on Vergil’s left arm until her knuckles turn paler than her skin as she finally jerks up at the flood of releasement. Her head tilts as a lewd moan finds its way out of her throat. 

“So wet for me, hmm…” Vergil slides out of Maureen’s folds while she pants sluggishly, still hasn’t recovered her from nectarous orgasm. He pushes his body on her back; his fully erected thick cock presses on her buttock, jolting her in shock. Maureen worries if such a large of manhood would fit inside her. Vergil gives her a tease by moving his cock between her buttock, causing her to whimper delinquently. His fingers trace on Maureen’s chin, tilting it to face him… 

She doesn’t believe that such a breathtaking, godly face belongs to a mere human. His skin is as fair as she is, with swept back white hair that emphasizes on his fierce and cold expression. Maureen braves herself to put her index finger on his clean and strong jaw, down to his throat… feeling his slow purr as he kisses her temple before he spins her around, crashing his lips against hers, stealing her breath. She flings her arms over his shoulders to pull him closer while their hot mouth and tongues dueling. He presses his groin on her lower stomach, so she can feel his hard as steel erection, bidding to enter her soaked flowers. A groan escapes from Maureen’s mouth during this heat moment. She squirms underneath him. 

Vergil pulls away, despite his covetous desire to break her. He casts a gaze on her current predicament, pleased at the sight before him; Maureen’s moist lips part and her flushed red cheeks seduce him to have her in his grasps… to claim her as his. Her cloudy eyes trace his smothering body, eventually meeting with his icy eyes that reflects his unspeakable demand to have her beneath him. 

“Take me, Vergil,” Maureen begs. 

Vergil buries his face on her neck, giving her whole pure skin his marks. “I will. At my pace.” 

“Please…”   

“More,” he growls. “I like it when you beg.” 

Maureen tightens her embrace, clawing her slender fingers on his beautiful back. “Please Vergil… I want you, so bad… I need your cock inside me! Please fuck me hard! I want you to fill me… fuck me mindlessly… I want you to—” 

His desperate groans cut her plea as he swoops down to her mouth, claiming and raiding her mouth possessively. Their hard kisses become wilder as they bite each other, while Vergil lifts her body and she wraps her legs around his waist. Maureen’s body trembles on burning arousal just by feeling his hot cock slipping and entering her swollen cunt, causing a scandalous cry to escape her mouth. Vergil pins her against the window, her legs still covering his waist. 

“Does my cock feel good?” Vergil asks roughly. His touch and presence are suffocating her, yet it makes her craving for him… for more… and more… 

“Yes! So good, Vergil… it feels so good!” Maureen catches her breath in struggle. A subtle smirk appears on the corner of the lips. “It would feel much better… if you move your cock right now.” 

“It seems like I need to teach you a lesson,” Vergil thrusts upwards, painfully slow. “I am a cruel man, little bird, and I will be cruel to you.” 

He invades her mouth ravenously while moving his hips, this time harder and more powerful, thrusting her mercilessly. Maureen claws at him and panting as each strike from Vergil drowns her lost into the sea of lust. Please… harder. Lose yourself. Don’t hold back… 

Vergil lets out a smug grin. “My little bird seems to enjoy herself.” 

“So good, Vergil… it’s too good—ah!” 

The next thrust from Vergil marks her second releasement. It was so good and intense that Maureen feels her body starts to get weaker. One of her trembling hands slips from Vergil’s neck as she tries to balance herself from falling, despite she knows Vergil won’t let her fall. But her clumsy movement causes a little accident; she pushes the knob and the window opens, letting the sea breeze come inside her room, tickling her flaming skin. 

“Hmm…” Vergil hums roughly. “Good idea, little bird.” 

“Wha—no! Not outside!” Maureen clings to him, pleading her disagreement. But Vergil walks to the fence, putting her down from his waist and pinning her to prevent her struggle. 

“The window is soundproof.” 

“People still can see!” 

“This room is located at the very back of the ship. With aft-facing corner balconies, this room has the most secure privacy. There are no neighbor’s balconies on either side…” Vergil kisses her forehead tenderly, quite opposite with his intimidating gaze. “Besides, we would know if someone’s still awake, and don’t pretend you don’t have the ability to put them in their sleep.” 

“I do have that ability… it just feels… so wrong.” 

Vergil cups her jaws before giving her a soft kiss on her nose and lips. “We both know you want this, little bird.” 

He turns her body, placing her hands on the fence. “Let the sea witness how beautiful and enchanting you are when you’re full of ecstasy.” 

As he inserts himself into her tight walls again, it’s too late for Maureen to hold back. 

He grips her hips and pushes himself deep. He pounds hard and fast, almost without mercy. They feel the intensity and intimacy of their attached bodies moving together. They can’t hold their seductive gasps and moans as they keep fucking each other in salacious desire.  

“Vergil… Vergil… oh—ah! M-more!” Maureen wails and whimpers as her walls are getting tighter. She can feel her clitoris throbs harder as she’s close to another releasement. 

“You are such a greedy little thing…” he growls. His voice grows lower and darker on each groan. 

“Vergil… please give me more…!” 

The cambion stops his movement and pulls away his cock abruptly, leaving his woman gasps in confusion as she feels the void filling her body. She moans desperately. “Vergil… why…?” 

Vergil kneads her sensitive mounds gently, teasing her with his cock slipping between her warm inner thighs. “I know you’re about to come. Is that true, my love?” 

“Yes!” she cries. 

“Do you want more? Do you want me fuck you harder?” 

“Yes, please!” 

“Then prove your worth,” Vergil tilts her body to face him, smirking at the sight of her beautiful, submissive woman. “On your knees, slut.” 

Maureen lowers her body down to the cold floor, eyes captivated by Vergil’s menacing face. She opens her mouth slightly to catch some air, but it turns out her little action excites him very much. He caresses her hair and cheeks softly as if she’s a good pet, before he pushes his thumb into her mouth. 

“You know what to do, little bird.” Vergil’s command is absolute.  

His dominant presence secretly excites Maureen as she feels a weird surge of tension fulfill her stomach and swelled pussy. She reaches Vergil’s cock, giving it a light rub before she massages it softly. He seems to grow impatient at her soft and light touches, pounding his cock into her little mouth. 

“I told you,” Vergil says seductively. “I’m a cruel person.” 

Contrary to her protest, Maureen’s body seems eager to indulge his lust of her. She blows him, licking his long and thick cock as if she’s thirsty of him. She takes a glance to Vergil, seeking a slight sign of approval from him. She admires his beautiful body from below, feeling the urge to find her own releasement as she slides her hand to her cunt, but Vergil notices it. 

“I forbid you to touch yourself,” he snarls. “Or I will leave you here, desperate and begging me to please you like a pathetic little slut.” 

She shakes her head immediately, sucking his cock harder as an apology. He seems satisfied by her surrender, eyes lingering to her full mouth. 

“Who would have thought that you, an enchanting nocnitsa, the keeper of the night, turn out to be a wanton harlot?” he murmurs as she sucks him deeper. “Such a ravishing seductress, aren’t you?” 

There’s no sign of insult from his face. Instead, he seems to adore her as he gently guides her head to move faster. Maureen can feel he’s close to his first release. He shuts his eyes when he releases his fluid inside Maureen’s mouth—his cock still throbbing while she continues to move her tongue. She swallows it all before she pulls her mouth away, waiting for Vergil’s next command. But Vergil lifts her up instead, carrying her back inside her room. 

“Good,” he kisses her temple and drops her tenderly on the bed. A guttural sound comes from his throat. “I shall comply with your desire as well.” 

He kisses her face, down to her chest and slightly biting her breasts. Then he gulps one of the mounds, his tongue dances on the hardened nipple like a hungry baby while the other hand squeezes the other mound. Her delicate skin and his calloused hands feel like an amazing contrast. He inhales her scent and that drives him crazy, finding himself hard again and his cock is now fully erected. Her mounds are now moist and hot under his persistent care. 

Vergil’s caresses go further down to Maureen’s inner thighs. He spreads her legs apart, smiling at Maureen’s embarrassment. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“No! Don’t stop!” 

“Very well.” He buries his face down between her thighs, worshiping her blossoming, nectarous tight hole. Each of his lick sends prickly goosebumps on her skins, causing her to arch her back and violently pull the sheet to hold herself.  

“Ahhhh!” Maureen feels his hot and wicked tongue circles her clit and the inner part of her vulva. He increases his speed and pressure, adding two fingers inside her. The surging tension crashes down into her lower stomach, preventing her to breath normally, even now she can’t form a single thought as he strokes faster until she feels a torturous pleasure comes out like flood. He licks his fingers, tantalizing the woman beneath him who’s whimpering, still hasn’t recovered from the delicious blackout. 

“Ever since I saw you for the first time, I know you would haunt me,” Vergil places his arms between Maureen’s shoulders. “That I won’t get enough of you… that I will get hurt for you…” 

His mouth meets hers, dancing in a tender motion. She folds her hands over his back, deepening their kiss and embrace. Her soft caresses on his back soothes him as his breath is getting calmer, giving her a sense of comfort. He gives her a peck on her nose while eyeing her exposed nakedness sharply. Only then, he thrusts himself inside her again, slowly and gently. He wants to feel the warmth between her walls, taking his time to feel his cock bulging harder inside her. Vergil spares her a small smile, showing his pure affection towards the nocnitsa. 

“May I move?” he asks politely. 

Maureen nods, unable to form a word despite her eagerness to answer him. 

They deeply tangled in that bed in sensual rhythm. Moans and ragged breath are mingled. He pulls up his body and holds his knees close to her hips, enclosing his palms around Maureen’s ankles to spread her legs wider, kissing the soft skin of her calf, much to her surprise. For a moment ago, he was cruel and dominating, yet now he indulges her sweetly as if he worships her. His growl is changing, almost sounds like a beast. Maureen can’t hide her shock when she sees his blue eyes glowing and his pupils are splitting into demonic eyes.  

Is he turning into his demon form?  “Vergil…?” 

“Hush now…” Vergil keeps digging inwardly, groaning at the narrow sensation from her inside. 

“Don’t hold back,” Maureen pants. “I want to see your true form.” 

“You will regret it.” 

“I can handle that. Please, Vergil.” 

Her wish is his command. He can no longer hold his primal instinct to consume her, to mark her as his. He releases his demon form; his body turns into blue scaly beast, with four wings attached on his back. His face can’t hide his deepest lust for her as he wraps his scaly tail over her body, gently places her on his lap. She rests her body on his scaly thighs before she pushes herself down, swallowing his monstrous cock. She can’t believe that Vergil can be this large. When she thinks Vergil can’t be more surprising, he always exceeds her expectations. 

“Stay still,” he murmurs in a demonic voice.  

Maureen carefully flings her arms onto Vergil’s harsh neck. She kisses his beastly jaw, causing him to shiver and growl impatiently. 

“Don’t provoke me,” Vergil warns her, thrusting his cock upwards tenderly. His long, fiendish tongue licks her shoulders and chest. 

Maureen caresses his face, her eyes spark with adoration. “Vergil… you are so beautiful.” 

And that’s enough to fuel him up. 

He moves his thighs, shoving himself so deep and hard, causing Maureen’s stifled cries to fill the room. The prickly sensation of scratching at her inner walls struck her sharply. Their affectionate kiss turns into nasty one. His fangs linger on her jaw and lowers to her nape, bleeding her for a little while he strikes her like a stake over and over again. His tail is keeping her in balance, protecting her from falling and his sharp scaly skin. As he drags Maureen deeper into her animalistic lust, her eyes change into blood red. Her desire and thirst for him is flowing as she absorbs him—a glowing blue mist radiates from Vergil’s body, circling Maureen before she opens her mouth and swallows the mist to gain more strength. 

“That’s it. Absorb me. Absorb all my emotions, my nightmares, my power. You are mine, as I am yours, Maureen. Feed only me.” 

“Vergil… oh my… you taste so good… I need more of you,” Maureen offers her neck to him. “Let’s have each other, Vergil. Please, take me…” 

Vergil accepts the offer to bite her neck, carefully not to rip it off or else she could die. Blood spilled over her shoulder and he licked it all, drinking and enjoying the taste of her. They consume each other whilst their bodies are still connected and moving at a wilder pace. They already forgot about anything else, not that it matters right now. They just want to devour and savor each other’s souls until they are lost in oblivion. 

“Vergil…” Maureen comes to her limit. “My love… I’m—” 

“Come. Come to me, beloved.” 

He pounds harder and his hands clamping onto her shoulders along with Maureen’s insatiate scream and squirting her nectar. His cock swells and jerks as he releases his seed violently deep inside her womb. Fluids come out from her moisten womanhood. Deliriously, she collapses forward onto his upper body, which gradually returns to his human form. Their damp bodies still entangled to each other, exhausted and content. Vergil strokes her back providently, feeling amazed as he sees the misty energy that she absorbed from him heals her wounds quickly. 

“I made a mess of you.” He sighs calmly. “Did I hurt you?” 

Vergil senses her head on his chest shaking slowly. 

“We broke the bed…” Maureen giggles, pointing at the bed with disarray holes in it. 

“I guess it won’t be a problem. This ship will never sail again anyway. At least until we reach Red Grave.” Vergil leans their bodies on the bed, bringing her head on his chest again. They speak nothing for a moment, just feeling the warmth emitted from their bodies. Maureen finds herself love to hear his steady heartbeat, shutting her eyes to feel its movement. 

“Try to sleep, my love.” He gives her a peck on the crown of her head. 

“You realize that nocnitsa is doomed to have a nightmare every time they fall asleep as a price for our power, right?” 

“I do,” Vergil caresses her head. “But I can do something about that.” 

He transfers his demonic power to her, as she gradually feels her body getting numb and sleepy. She doesn’t even realize when she falls asleep. She just falls into absolute darkness. No nightmares, no dreams, not even an anxious feeling but the pleasant and calming memory of Vergil. 

-- 

From the moment she opened her eyes, Vergil was nowhere to find. 

Lady Midnight has landed at the port of Red Grave. It’s not very shocking to see the passengers rush themselves out from the cursed ship. Luckily, Maureen found a great spot to hide and blend in the shadows of the passengers, so she doesn’t have to mingle with the horde of angry passengers. She lifts her suitcase, escaping herself from the journalists who're waiting for them.  

Maureen realizes that she misses this city, even though weird things always happen in this forsaken city. She misses its clear and fresh breath. She cannot wait to arrive at her apartment, playing her violin again. Maybe she would compose a song. She already has her idea ever since her steamy night with Vergil. 

Vergil… 

She makes a mental note to pass by the Devil May Cry office someday. She never thought that the famous devil hunter in this city has a twin brother. The one who created a big hole in her heart once she woke up without his presence. 

Maureen reaches in the pocket of her coat to find her phone, intending to order a taxi. But her fingers catch something else aside from her cellphone. 

A memo? 

Maureen opens the paper, reading the neat handwriting written on it. 

Never to bid good-bye 

Or lip me the softest call, 

Or utter a wish for a word, 

While I saw morning harden upon the wall, 

Unmoved, unknowing 

That your great going 

Had place that moment and altered all.

Until we meet again, my little bird.

-Vergil

Maureen folds the paper neatly and puts it back into her pocket. For the first time in her long and empty life, she feels an unexpected encouragement as well as an aching longing for someone. It is true when you dance with the devil, you don’t change the devil. It’s the devil who changes you.

Until then, Vergil. 

Notes:

The poem mentioned by Vergil is “The Going” written by Thomas Hardy

===

A/N :  Finally, my first smut! I blame whitedemonqueen from AO3 and all the thirsty Vergil's hoes lovers at Discord server for making me write this sinned fic XD 

Tagging : @shiranyaaww @harlot-of-oblivion

Masterlist

[sanstropfremir]

ok alright alright alright kingdom episode two

kinda disappointed that they only showed half the stages, but that's just an editing thing to draw out the content so you can air for longer, i'm not super surprised about that. i would have liked to evaluate them all at the same time, but at least this gives me time to go more in depth for all of them since they're full stages this time and I wrote 3000 words for last episode when they only had 100 secs. so this format will probably keep me sane for longer, i think. 

solid stages all round for them, none had especially glaring flaws on the whole. i'm not gonna do a full ranking for this episode since we haven't seen them all, but i will say that btob’s was my favourite from this set and both ikon’s and tbz’s stages were about equal; they both had things i liked and disliked in equal measure so i'm tentatively giving them the same ranking. full opinions and analysis on each stage below the cut, plus another section of general notes because hey what the fuck did you do to that stage mnet???

and for anyone that’s wondering yes i do have the qualifications. also seriously grab a drink or something because this is LONG.

some general notes

and here i thought this section wouldn't be as big as it was last time because mnet was going to get their shit together about the stage design, but noooooooooooo they had to go and make it worse! thanks mnet i hate it! remember how i said you shot yourself in the foot last time? well ya fuckin kneecapped yourself AND all your idols with this one ya dumb fuckin idiots. alright folks welcome back to stage design 101, my recurring segment where i explain the different types of stage layouts and their effectiveness for kpop idol survival shows, i guess.

ok so last week i covered the basics on theatre in the round and traverse staging, which i’ll link here if there’s anyone new or just wants a refresher. i mentioned that its likely that mnet will switch to an in the round style staging because it offers a lot more freedom for camera movement and also for directional blocking. well, i was wrong. so i'm gonna give you a quick rundown of prosceniums. a proscenium, proscenium arch, or just prosc, is an architectural feature that sits around the front ‘opening’ of the stage that delineates the stage from the audience. if you've ever been in or seen any pictures of old european style theatres it can be quite ornately decorated with scrolling, but it's almost always there in most western theatres. it basically provides your ‘wings,’ which are where you exit off into to get offstage, they provide cover from the audience sitelines. pretty much any theatre where the audience is directly opposing the stage across the 180 degree line is a proscenium stage, even if it doesn't physically have the arch. hell, movie theatres are prosc stages. now, there's a secondary architectural feature/device called a false proscenium, where you set a second, smaller archway inside the first prosc, usually done for a specific effect. think of it like a literal framing device; it's often used to visually signify that ‘this is a play, we are telling a story, please be aware that this is a play thank you.’ but sometimes, it can be a semi-permanent structure that’s set in place to narrow the prosc opening. we had this at my university, there was a false prosc set just inside the actual prosc because the stage had a hilariously big prosc opening for a university that never had casts larger than 24 people. so they set false prosc in to make the stage slightly narrower and to widen the wings, because it doesn't matter what size theatre you're in, you always need more wingspace. makes sense? ok, now here’s a very quick drawing of what i'm pretty sure the kingdom stage looks like:

before you get lost: stage directions are oriented to a person standing on the stage, hence SL and SR being reversed. a quick tip for remembering which way is upstage and which is downstage: if you go too far downstage you fall down (most stages are raised between 2-4’ from the floor, so if you step off the end you will actually fall.) the arrows on here signify the entrances i observed during the performances, which is not necessary in this explanation but i just thought it was interesting to note. still not entirely sure what the surrounding architecture is but it appears that the stage is a raised platform inside a room, and not actually built as part of the building. the ‘house’ is just a technical term for where the audience is, and in this case it's where it looks like most of the film crew and the producers/staff are. there’s pretty clearly a platform upstage centre, and i think there may be some others but i don't care about those right now. what i want to talk about is this dumbass false prosc they set IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STAGE. now i suspect that they did this to solve some problems that they could have had that i don't know about, since i don't know who the stage designer was and what the actual limitations of the space are. but basically they've built two stages and stacked them on top of each other to create one very deep stage, and then separated it off with a false prosc in order to control the size of the space a little better, and possibly to add some visual interest. this stage is functional for its purpose, absolutely, and i think, if mnet actually gave a shit about point of view and camerawork, it could produce some really interesting performances. however, because this stage is so deep, it kind of has the same properties as the traverse stage from before, but just with some big led screens in the middle for reasons. you extra have to pay attention to the directionality because you have all the staff and cameras concentrated in one specific cardinal point, so you have to get creative if you want to crossover between the two sides frequently. again, this is not necessarily bad; restrictions often produce some of the most creative decisions.  but! we have not seen a lot of consideration for camera and sightlines and audience pov, hence why i think this setup is dumb: it’s not facilitating the best performances it could.

ok now to the actual performances

btob

this is my favourite of the group because it's very clean lined and utilizes a few simple devices to pretty good effect. i realize these reviews are making me sound like i only like simple performances but i promise this is not at all true i'm just very critical and very picky. let’s start with the costumes, because why not. 

costumes

i like these very much, i love modernized traditional clothing in all forms, and these are very well tailored and well coordinated. they do the bulk of the work establishing the theme for the performance, along with the costumes on the backup dancers. personally i would have liked them to be a bit more colourful, à la the teal detailing that was on minhyuk’s final look. i'm getting a bit tired of the whole trend of having groups only wear all dark or all white, or maybe sometimes red if they're feeling spicy. obviously uniform colour is the easiest way to tie a group together visually, but on a show like this i think the groups would actually benefit more from looking distinct from each other internally rather than establishing the group as whole.

i liked that minhyuk had a costume change but i didn't really care for how it was how it was broken down. this is a very personal quibble because i literally have spent years prepping quickchanges but the method it broke down wasn’t the most visually compatible with the garment and felt kinda clunky. please ignore this anecdote it's just me being picky.

set

i loved the forest! a very excellent way to divide the stage area and obscure the weird stage lines/architecture that mnet has made. plus the snow, flowers, and fog? makes a really sharp and immediately indicative atmosphere, a very good use of visual shorthand to establish place.

i didnt love the screens, they reminded me a bit too much of rolling whiteboards from grade school, but they are thematically relevant. also, i feel like we didnt actually get to see about half the choreo for them? fuckin mnet and idiocy again. fun use of rear projection with the dancers’ shadows, and also good use of them to direct traffic, if you will. 

personally i think that the sheet gimmick from tbz’s performance would have been a better fit here instead of the screens, especially since the fabric motif was already established at the very beginning of the performance. plus you can do some really fun shadow work with a stretch fabric screen. 

personally i think there could have been a little bit more integration between the forest area and the screen area, or they could have done the whole thing in the forest space, but that would require a bit more consideration of camera and choreo maneuverability

sound

really liked this arrangement, obviously the song is iconic but they added a more traditional instrument sound. has good structure for the loose narrative that they had and they were well to label this as ‘theatre’ version because this did follow very closely to a traditional musical theatre sound and style

lighting

no complaints. the overall theme for this episode is apparently blue and red? again with them i like their dedication to a limited colour palette and i especially like the blossoms at the climax

staging

there was pretty clear camera choreo and a minimum of nausea inducing moves. i think some of the effectiveness of the staging got chopped by the editing but that’s not really btob’s fault.

i was just saying i wanted them to give minhyuk some time to shine, i was not expecting to get it so soon! this is a very smart choreo that proves you can be interesting without doing a lot of tricking. minhyuk obviously did a lot of practice and work with that sword, his movements are very fluid and he knows how to handle it. and it looks like its either a blunted proper blade or a correctly weighted replica. a lot of the times when sword choreo looks fake it's because the person either hasn't had enough practice or the weapon is not weighted/weighted incorrectly. only complaints are that you would never hold your fingers/palm that close and un-anchored over the edge of the blade, which is just a safety thing. also you would never scrape your blade on the ground like that, nor toss the thing like dead fish but that's a respect thing with a live blade and this is clearly done for dramatic effect so i’ll forgive it. please ignore this anecdote also it’s just my third dan getting uppity.

ikon

costume/set

smart thematically to go with the sort of miscellaneous 30s-40s (western) aesthetic because it's the fastest way to make it look like you built a theme with mnet’s weird pseudo art deco nonsense they've inexplicably got going on in the set dec. however, they should have stuck the theme all the way through, it would have been more visually cohesive and more interesting. we expect more hiphop/electronic sounding songs to come with these kinds of 4th gen costumes, it would have been anachronistic in a fun way to have them do that second half in 40s style suits. here’s a performance from sdc3 that uses that kind of anachronistic play (this was a combo stage with two ballroom dancers and it has a 20s aesthetic but close enough.) also here’s another routine from sdc3 that does a similar effect on a much more abstract scale, and also it’s a fucking incredible performance and it got slept on by the captains. also yes i know these are incredibly experienced career dancers but they way they construct narrative within their routines and their stage presence is SO GOOD. 

do not speak to me about the backup dancers costumes, holy shit i hate them. i hate them so much. how do you manage to hit too shapeless AND too fitted in the same fell swoop? i'm so mad at these. i'm neutral on bodycon dresses on the best of days but these were absolutely the wrong choice for this stage. generally kpop has abysmal costuming for female backup dancers on the whole but this is just like.....especially lazy. the point of the costume are to help give an indication of where and when you set your performance. they started off with a vaguely 40s theme and then jumped abruptly modern. why? also skirts like that are the literal worst choice for dancing in, hello?? the men’s looks are just sloppy, when you have a garment that big you want it to serve a purpose within the choreo, whereas with this it's just hiding the dancers’ movements.

as for ikon themselves, see everything ive said about black on black on black styling in the previous two reviews. 

the actual set is minimal and that's tragic. i mentioned mnet’s weird art deco theme and it was smart of them to try and play off that with a lack of stuff. definitely a mismatch of stuff pulled from yg’s prop storage, but they made it work as well as they could. no other meaningful comments i’m just kinda sad about it.

sound

the arrangement is fine, no complaints from me. they keyed up the old hollywood style musical theatre sound in the beginning which i really liked. i didn't mind the song/tone switch, i think they pulled it off.

staging

same as btob they learned more towards a theatrical style, which is smart for this particular format of show. i think this was the smartest staging of these three, and also i think the only ones to not get the crew in shot.

despite seemingly leaning into a more old hollywood style the narrative was a bit too loose for my taste. i'm not sure what i would have done to make it clearer at this moment since they had so little to work with, but i did get by on my previous knowledge of the songs. that shouldn’t be the only indication of narrative though! all elements need to support it!!

also like btob they had a pretty intentional point of direction and there weren't a crazy amount of spins. they also used the camera cuts the most effectively that i've seen so far. the first half is actually all in one take!!! incredible!!! thank you!!!! this is how you do it!!

the lighter flick gimmick was well pulled off and a good example of how to use a couple of simple tricks to good effect.

ikon as a whole has really great stage chemistry with each other, and they're extremely cohesive performers. this is a really strong physical performance from them, the dance was very solid and clean. good use of levels without verging into acrobatics. this might be the best group choreo i've seen so far, but we’re not very far so that's not a very high bar to clear.

it's a shame they had the budget of 1 banana.

tbz

i liked this stage better than their intro stage, but i still think they have a long way to go and they're still over ambitious. personally i find stages based on specific pop culture properties to be kind of twee and ineffectual, because it requires a specific knowledge of that pop culture property to work. sometimes the specificity can help with a narrative but you're at risk of alienating a larger portion of your audience out of sheer non-knowledge than anything else. 

costumes

again, interesting garments physically, but not much clarity of relation to the theme other than the colour. also the backup dancers???? another case of backup dancers being from an entirely different stage, what is up with those coats/dresses? looked more like they belonged in either sweeney todd or a vampire movie. 

hands in front of the camera again, but these were used much more effectively.  i'm not the biggest fan of mixing metals and i’m partial to silver on the whole so i didn't love the jewelry, but at least it was vague and stereotypical enough to denote ‘fire magic’ even if it does rely on a derivative middle eastern shorthand.

set

the stage set itself is fine, although definitely feels a bit haphazard to me. doric columns and frozen rocks and whatever that cover for the pyrotechnics was at the front, combined with the candles and the chaise lounge? like ikon, it felt a bit like they were pulling out of the props/set storage. not that all these things do not work together, it's just that you need a thread to tie them together, and this didn't have that for me.

sound

it's a crime they have a song called ‘no air’ and its not a jordin sparks cover. just saying.

i didnt really like this arrangement, again like their intro stage it didn't have a strong structure that suited the narrative, because they were pretty clearly trying a narrative on this one. also were most of the adlibs playback? they were singing live but there were so few shots of anyone specific singing. 

lighting

probably the weakest of the three. the projection design was a bit too tacky for me, and although i appreciated the small amount of variety in colour, it felt way too concert-lighting for me.

staging

the editing on this stage is wack and did no one any good. the hands leading/pov was a really smart device and they should have stuck out the one takes like ikon did, it would have made the whole stage feel a bit more cohesive. a lot better directional camerawork from them this time around, well done. again with the hands in front of the camera gimmick which i actually preferred this time, since they were a part of the narrative. the stretch/silhouette fabric i think they pulled off quite well, even if it didn't really fit thematically with the piece. i actually worked on a show a very long time ago that used this exact same effect with dancers and also rear shadow projection, and it requires a lot of rehearsal and trust to pull off well, so props to them. i think it was the wrong choice because there isn't an established motif for the fabric, so it kind of appears out of nowhere for one specific visual moment and then disappears, and i think that time could have been better served for something else narratively relevant.

again, these 4th gen groups are overly focussed on gimmicks as a way to make up for the lack of experience. personally i think this will be detrimental in the long run, and a reliance on gimmicks means that you don't trust your performers. tbz have the manpower to be doing some pretty cool collective dance work and i dont think its being trained or utilized correctly. they are suffering from a lack of cohesive stage presence right now and that can be fixed with training and time.

this might be because the group sizes are so different between these three but this choreo is very directionless. mnet is also providing to be absolute garbage at editing and i feel like i can't see the choreo at all.

this is a thing i've noticed with kpop camerawork in general, there’s very little regard for actually viewing the choreo as a singular work. and for some reason the camera always needs to be moving???? people do actually want to see what’s happening on the stage. the choreographer can only see from one spot, so from that spot is how they are intending it to look. you wouldn't need to upload full cams of every music stage if you just filmed the choreo properly in the first place. if you watch the two sdc3 clips i linked you can see a clear difference in maintaining the integrity of the choreo, even though both shows use several cameras and a lot of cuts.  obviously for kpop you want the money shots of idols’ faces but i definitely think there’s a healthier middle ground than what we have now.

ill wait for full subs but i want to know where in the fuck in sk you can rent a tank thas clearly been custom made for underwater photography, because that’s extremely cool even if it was absolutely unnecessary to the actual stage itself. i can think of several ways off the top of my head that would have achieved that same freezing effect without any of that wasted time and effort.

mnet decided to drop full cams while i was writing this and despite watching those my opinions are the same.

in conclusion, some more general thoughts:

i think ikon and btob got it right by leaning more into the theatrical than the cinematic, if that makes sense. i might be talking up my own ass here but these are theatre performances, and they should be treated as such. trying to do things that you can do on film isn't going to do you any favours in the long run, and it makes it harder to make a cohesive performance. i’m harping a lot about narrative but it is so important to performance. although it is not technically necessary, when doing big theatrical performance stages like this it does help with clarity of intent and general success. humans have brains structured around storytelling, it is literally the way our history has been passed down for tens of thousands of years. the atlantic published an article recently on narrative and memory, and it's a really excellent read for maybe after you've taken a break from this behemoth, oh dear god. 

tldr: the stages were good but disappointing in their own ways. mnet continues to sabotage via weird stage design decisions and bad editing. see you next week! (or in my ask box if you have questions)

[vorta-whore]

Transition of Power, ch. 3

The two of you go for a stroll.

Weyoun 5 x female reader

Chapter 1: An Introduction | Chapter 2: A First Date | Chapter 3: A Walk Together | Chapter 4: A Night on Bajor

---

You don’t consider yourself a particularly religious woman. You have always had faith in the Prophets, of course, and you attend weekly services whenever you can afford the time. But in all your years aboard the station, you can’t recall ever stepping foot in the temple outside of service hours simply to pray.

You’ve done so three times this week.

The silence and stillness of the shrine seems to help, for a moment. As you kneel onto an empty pillow and bow your head, your chaotic thoughts begin to subside, replaced by a single, focused prayer.

Prophets, you think, though you sometimes sense you’re talking to yourself more than to them. Please, guide me. I didn’t think I had a choice, at first, with this man. He wanted me and I could not deny him, for fear of what would happen to me. But the more we talk, the clearer it is that he isn’t forcing me into anything. I’m continuing it of my own free will.

You lace your fingers together and squeeze your eyes shut in concentration.

I know he’s a dangerous man. An evil one. He represents the empire that could tear the Alpha Quadrant apart. And I know he must have committed atrocities of his own as well. I shouldn’t want to be with him – I should be repulsed. But I can’t help it. When he leaves, I miss his presence. I think about him as I lie awake at night. I wonder what kind of a man he is, under that diplomatic persona. I want to get to know him. And I...I like how I feel around him. He makes me feel interesting. And wanted. Desirable, but respected. He treats me kindly, with a gentleness I never thought him capable of, that I’ve never experienced from another lover. And I know the right course of action is to end this before it begins, to reject his advances before they can go any further...but I feel in my heart that I would regret it forever.

A heavy sigh falls from your lips.

You gifted us with the ability to love so we could appreciate being bathed in your holy light. It is the purest, most powerful force in the world. So how could it ever be wrong? Would I...be a collaborator if I continued this? Is the only moral course of action to forget this affair? Or is this part of my fate – to capture the heart of a powerful enemy and help save his soul, and maybe some lives in the process?

You pause, your heart laid bare, and wait for a response. But you don’t really expect one. The Prophets have never spoken to you – not directly, at least – and you don’t expect them to start now. Even if you are in terrible need of guidance. For a moment you consider asking the vedek for advice, but you suspect he won’t give you an entirely unbiased answer when he realizes the object of your affections is none other than the station’s Vorta oppressor.

The musky scent of incense swirls in the air around you. Quieted but still frustrated by your own uncertainty, you take a moment to breathe and center yourself as best you can before heading back out to the Promenade.

The serenity you found inside the temple begins to fade away as soon as you leave it. You pause to survey the station inhabitants shuffling to and fro, their heads bowed, their faces weary. As much weighs on their minds as on yours. 

A sudden call snaps you out of your reverie.

“Y/N!” comes the excited, familiar voice, and you turn with surprise to see Weyoun flanked by his Jem’Hadar guards. Caught off-guard, you gape for a moment as he approaches.

“Hi,” you manage. He beams at you in response.

“Will you walk with me for a moment?”

Your answer follows before you can give it even a moment’s thought: “Of course.”

The Vorta turns and you fall in tow as the four of you cross the Promenade. You’re not entirely pleased to be seen in public with Weyoun – you keep glancing about as though fearful of the judgmental glares you’re bound to receive – but the majority of people you pass seem entirely uninterested in your little rendezvous. Beyond, of course, the usual uneasy glances they direct at Weyoun.

“I really did enjoy our dinner last week,” he says with a hum. “I apologize for not contacting you sooner.”

“It’s alright. I’m sure you’re a very busy man.”

“Oh, you have no idea the extent of it. I’ve rarely a moment to myself, let alone time to enjoy the company of others. Which brings me to my point.”

He pauses in front of a window and turns to gaze out at the stars. You do the same, and a faint wistfulness tugs at your heartstrings as you stare at the space where the wormhole hasn’t opened in months.

“I’d like to see more of you,” Weyoun says softly.

You look over at him with such a panicked haste that he quickly adds an addendum: “If that’s alright.”

“I – you – yes, of course it’s alright,” you stutter, and feeling sheepish, you avert your eyes and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ears.

You can hear the smile (and notes of what sound like genuine relief) in Weyoun’s voice as he replies. “I’m glad to hear it. As it happens, my meeting with Gul Dukat later this evening has been fortuitously postponed – and I can think of no greater way to spend my suddenly free time than in the pleasure of your company.”

You glance up to see he’s turned from the window to face you, and his wide eyes glimmer with anticipation as he awaits your response.

You hesitate. Something within you is begging to say no, to run away – but you can’t fathom the possibility of extinguishing the spark of excitement in those amethyst eyes...

“Unless...you have a prior engagement?” he prompts at your hesitation, and the way his eyebrows raise and his lips tug into a frown has you scrambling to comfort him.

“No! No, I’m free. I’d love to join you,” you assure, quite earnestly in fact, you realize, and Weyoun’s expression melts back into a pleased smile.

“Excellent. I was thinking perhaps a change of scenery this time; I’ve already taken the liberty of securing a holosuite reservation. I think you’re going to like the program I’ve selected.”

Before you can inquire, Weyoun reaches for your hands, and the feeling of his soft skin brushing against yours steals the words right out of your mouth. You find yourself helpless under his gaze once more as he strokes his thumbs over the back of your hands, and in that simple, paralyzing touch you completely forget the two of you are in the public eye.

“I’ll pick you up from your quarters at eighteen hundred hours. Dress for warm weather.”

He presses a quick kiss to one of your hands and then is gone, leaving you breathless by the window.

No one had been paying you much attention before. But after that public display of affection, you notice several pairs of eyes quickly dart away as you turn back toward the Promenade.

You suppose you’d better go find a dress.

---

The door-chime rings at eighteen-hundred hours exactly, and you wonder if Weyoun had perhaps been standing there waiting for the precise moment to strike. With one last glance in the mirror to straighten your hair, you answer the door, and the sight momentarily stuns you.

You hadn’t seen Weyoun in any outfit other than his typical – was it a uniform? That strange, asymmetrical garb he always wore. But as an ambassador, it made sense that he would have a variety of clothing suitable for multiple climates, and he had donned one such outfit here for the occasion. It resembled his usual attire, in all its intricately-patterned, multi-textured glory, but revealed much more skin than you were used to seeing on the Vorta. Lapels of thin leather stretched out to just barely cover his shoulders, leaving his arms completely bare. The pleated mauve undershirt (though you doubted it was its own garment entirely, more likely just a piece of fabric sewn into the vest for modesty) dipped down low to reveal both collarbones, and the asymmetrical hem of the garment jutted out just above his hips. His trousers – a shade more form-fitting than usual – were cuffed at the shin, revealing a sliver of calves between the hem and the ankle-high boots he wore.

You had worried about feeling a little too dressed-down, in your flowing sundress and delicate sandals, next to the stiff and regal Vorta. But the casual outfit assuages your fears and you both grin – you a little giddily – to see the other in a new light.

“You look stunning as always, my dear,” Weyoun notes, “but especially so tonight.”

You hesitate as he offers you his arm, but the reality is that after this morning, the whole station likely knows about the two of you; there’s no point hiding this courtship anymore. You take his arm.

“I could say the same of you,” you tease, a little emboldened by the feeling of walking on the station commander’s arm. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you show quite so much skin.”

A smirk tugs at the corners of Weyoun’s lips, and you sense he’s debating saying something, but quickly decides against it. He simply chuckles. 

“I’m glad you like it.”

A thought occurs to you and you voice it tentatively as the two of you (followed, as always, by the Jem’Hadar guards) make your way down the corridors.

“Weyoun – is it true your people don’t have a sense of aesthetics?”

“Yes. The Founders did not deem it necessary for our purposes.”

You think you detect a hint of bitterness. But he continues on cheerfully: “Personally, as a diplomat, I do see the advantages; every culture has its own unique sense of style and taste, and if I had my own personal preferences among them, I might find it more difficult to establish relations with races whose appearances or architecture I disliked.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you mutter, not really agreeing. “I just wondered – you always compliment my appearance…”

“Ah,” he chuckles, “yes. I assure you those are genuine.”

At your look of confusion, he furrows his brow, trying to find the easiest way to explain. 

“...Allow me to illustrate it for you with an example. If you showed me two dresses – one horribly tacky, the other beautiful and elegant – and asked me to label which one was which, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. To me, they’re both slips of fabric in various colors and patterns woven together to make a garment. I cannot detect whether certain colors clash with one another, or if certain shapes are unflattering on one’s body. But what I can appreciate is the woman wearing the dress. Her whole demeanor often changes when she slips into a garment as beautiful as she is; she becomes more comfortable, more open, more in tune with her inner light. When I compliment her, I’m voicing my appreciation for things like...the way her smile lights up the room. The tinge of color on her cheeks and the spark in her eyes. The grace with which she carries herself. Her confidence in flaunting such a flawless appearance.”

He pauses to drive his point home by setting his free hand gently over the one you’ve laid on his arm and meeting your eyes with a suave smile. Your foundation does nothing to hide the blush that rises to your cheeks, and you to your horror a giggle bubbles up from your lips.

“Regardless,” Weyoun sighs, pleased at the response he’s elicited, “I can certainly appreciate the effort you’ve expended going out of your way to gild yourself for my enjoyment.”

Heads turn as you enter Quark’s, and for a moment you avert your eyes and stare to the ground in embarrassment – but Weyoun doesn’t falter an instant, and the sheer confidence with which he carries himself bolsters you. You lift your head with some effort, clinging just a bit more tightly onto his arm. 

Quark has the data rod with your holosuite program in his hand as you approach the bar; his expression is unreadable. Weyoun thanks him and takes it, and you continue upstairs.

“I do hope you like it,” he says, a little more loudly over the noise of the bar, as he slots the data rod into the panel. “Having never been to Bajor myself, I can only hope it is a faithful reproduction.”

You turn to fix him with a questioning look, but he only bows and gestures for you to head inside.

“After you.”

The doors part and you immediately feel a blast of warm air, a welcome feeling on your bare, goosebump-prickled skin. You step inside – followed closely by Weyoun – and the Jem’Hadar take up post outside the holosuite just before the doors slide shut.

The program, to your wonder and delight, is a perfect re-creation of one of Bajor’s most famous forests. Your home planet is well-known for its natural splendor – sprawling mountains, rolling hillsides, breathtaking falls – and this woodland is a shining example. Impossibly high, purple-barked trees stretch toward the endless sky, their leaves casting a shimmering dappled shadow upon the needle- and moss-covered ground. A brook winds and weaves through the web of tree trunks and their gnarled roots, its water crystal clear, its shores adorned by smooth pebbles and stones. Small woodland creatures dart to and fro throughout the underbrush, and you watch with quiet fascination as one of them – a long-eared, round-eyed lagomorph – pauses to nibble at the bud of a crimson sunset-lily.

You’re sufficiently awed.

“I take it,” Weyoun says softly from behind you, and you startle a bit, having all but forgotten he was there, “the program passes muster?”

“More than,” you reply, and turning to face him, you offer a genuine smile of gratitude. “I feel like I’m home again.”

A warm smile touches his lips, creases the corners of his eyes.

“I’m pleased to hear it.”

As the two of you approach the trailhead, Weyoun slides a graceful arm around your shoulders. He holds you firmly, but not tightly, and his embrace – the tingling sensation of his soft skin on your bare shoulders, the feeling of safety under his grasp – transforms you into a blushing maiden, clinging onto your shining knight. You wrap a reciprocating arm around his lower back as you both begin down the dirt path.

“I’m glad to be able to see some of your homeworld,” he muses after a few moments of contented silence, interrupting the cheerful sounds of birdsong. “Even if it is only a facsimile. My occupation, unfortunately, does not allow me much vacation time.”

He says this with a chuckle, intending the comment to be light-hearted, but you can hear an undercurrent of bitterness – the same subtle tone you noticed in your earlier conversation. The polite thing to do would be to move on; talk about the places in Bajor he should visit if he ever gets the chance. But you know it would be an empty gesture. There’s an opportunity here, and you’d be remiss to let it pass you by.

“...Weyoun,” you start carefully, and he glances over to you, attentive at your sudden tone of concern. “Do you ever…wish things were different?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” he fires back, a little too quickly. His eyes slide back to the path in front of you.

“Yes, you do.”

Silence stretches out between you as Weyoun contemplates his answer. His arm around your shoulders has slackened a little and you aren’t sure if this risk is paying off the way you intended it to. After several long moments, he heaves a sigh, laden with a burden you sense he’s reluctant to acknowledge.

“Sometimes…”

He stops himself. You try to decipher the expressions crossing his face but they’re entirely unreadable. He glances back to you – looks down – sighs again. When he speaks, his words are deliberate, chosen with laborious care.

“Sometimes, I do harbor thoughts of what life might be like if circumstances were...different. There are many pleasures in this world unknowable to me; the taste of a home-cooked meal, for instance. Art in any capacity. Music, especially, I wish I could appreciate.”

“You can’t even enjoy music?”

“When I listen to a song, it’s as if I’m…” – his hand dances about in the air, searching for an apt comparison – “...looking at a sheet of mathematical equations. I can pick out the individual instruments, note the changes in their pitch, recognize patterns and motifs. But the whole of the song, the heart of it, escapes me.”

You both ponder this sad reality.

“I do think it would be nice to be able to carry a tune,” he laments after a long moment. “Or to dance. I’m a truly terrible dancer.”

The image of lovely, graceful Weyoun stumbling around a dancefloor elicits a burst of laughter from you, despite the heavy subject matter; Weyoun laughs along, relieved his attempt at cutting the tension was successful.

“That’s a shame. I don’t know how the Vorta usually woo their women, but on Bajor, dinner and dancing is usually part of the package at some point.”

“Well, I’ve managed to woo you without having to resort to dancing just yet.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” you retort, grinning.

Weyoun agrees with a hearty chuckle.

“Let’s hope not.”

---

The two of you make your way down the winding trail, enjoying the sights and sounds of the woodland as you go. Weyoun, ever the gentleman, leads you by a hand over the fallen logs and stepping-stones that serve as bridges across the stream, his grip a comforting assurance. He waits ever so patiently when you pause to beckon to the furry little creatures eyeing you from the underbrush, and he is adequately fascinated by your explanations of the various flora and fauna, even humoring you when you pick the occasional flower and offer it for him to smell.

“Do you even have a sense of smell?” you question him at one point, twirling the stem of a flower between your fingertips; those of your other hand are laced comfortably with his.

“I do,” he assures, a little amused by the question but understanding of its necessity. “Scent plays a pivotal role in making good first impressions; it’s one of the first things a person notices. I find it helpful, actually, to tailor my own scent to match the preferences of those with whom I wish to establish good relations. It’s a subtle enough gesture, but effective.”

“Is that why you always smell so sweet?” You give him a light jab to the ribs.

He grins at your playful tone, shoots you a look of mirthful defeat.

“You caught me.”

“How did you know I’d like that scent in particular?”

“Well…”

Weyoun trails off, and in the span of that one word the tone of the conversation has shifted to something decidedly less lighthearted. Your attention is drawn to him as he withdraws his hand from your own and clasps it with his other; you wonder if that might be a nervous habit.

“Being station commander has its...advantages. There is very little that goes on here without my knowing, and likewise very little information inaccessible to me. If I wish to know...say...a particular occupant’s work schedule...or shopping habits...”

“You stalked me!” you accuse, and although the offense rings clear in your voice, you can’t honestly say it runs all that deep. Either way, you aren’t surprised.

“Stalk is a strong word!” Weyoun insists, the pitch of his voice rising as he hurries to defend himself. “I merely – gathered some basic information – to give myself the best possible chance of ensuring the outcome I wanted.”

“Which was?”

He looks at you a little strangely. The answer is obvious, of course, but you want to hear him say it.

“To win your affection. Which, it seems, I have. Or am I mistaken?”

His turn to ask the obvious question. You smile and lower your gaze to the ground.

“You have.”

“Then the ends justified the means.”

The trail opens up into a clearing, and you come upon the shore of a vast lake. There’s a stretch of fence close to the shoreline and you lean against it as you take in the sight: the rippling surface of the water glimmers like so many gemstones, reflecting the deep orange and violet hues of the Bajoran sunset.

It occurs to you that your Vorta friend may not be able to enjoy this painterly scene to the same extent you can. You glance over to him – and startle to see his gaze is fixed intently on you. It doesn’t waver as you meet it, and the unabashed eye contact brings a sudden warmth to your cheeks.

“What?” you finally ask, a little sheepish.

Weyoun’s smile grows just a shade deeper as he answers.

“You enjoy looking at the sunset. I enjoy looking at you.”

The simplicity of the statement only excites the butterflies in your stomach. You smile nervously, self-conscious, as Weyoun studies your face with a sudden, urgent interest; his smile fades and his brow creases with concentration. He’s searching for something – and whatever it is, he’s desperate to find it.

You’re just about to ask what’s wrong when his hand lifts to your face, and the gentle hold he takes of your cheek steals your thoughts away completely. His palm is soothingly cool; his touch, comforting and still. You notice his eyes slide down to your lips and you realize with paralyzing clarity what it is, exactly, he wants.

The next few moments happen in slow motion.

You allow the hand cupping your cheek to guide your face upwards, and Weyoun’s head tilts to the side, making room for you. You spare a glance down to his lips, then back up to his eyes, tender and heavy-lidded; your lips part and you suck in a small, quiet gasp of air, the last you’ll get for the next several seconds. As Weyoun leans down to close the last inch of space between you, your eyelids flutter shut – and an infinite, breathless moment passes before you feel his soft lips press, tender and sweet, into yours.

He lingers there motionless for several moments, the pad of his thumb stroking your cheek, before beginning to pull away – but you don’t let him. The instant his lips leave yours, your hands shoot up to grasp the sides of his face and pull him back down for more, and he obliges, gladly; you press up into him with more force, mashing your lips together in a hungry bid for intimacy, and he exhales heavily into the kiss, returning every ounce of passion. His hand slips from your face and you feel his arms wrap tightly around your middle, pulling your body into his, and for several long minutes the only sounds around you are the distant calls of the waterfowl and the lapping of gentle waves at the shore.

Neither of you wants to end this perfect moment. But, inevitably, one of you must break for air, and of course it happens to be you. You pull back just enough to breathe; your eyes blink open to meet Weyoun’s, and as you relocate your hands from his face to rest upon his shoulders, you notice with some amusement the faintest tinge of purple in his cheeks.

“Wow,” you exhale, lightheaded.

“Wow,” he agrees.

His grip on your waist loosens and, self-consciousness returning, you turn back toward the lake and allow the cool breeze to soothe your burning face. Weyoun releases you to instead rest a hand on the small of your back, and you lean into him, heart aflutter.

A few minutes of silence – of perfect, serendipitous peace – draw to a reluctant close as the automated voice of the computer informs you your holosuite reservation is at an end. You release the fence posts just as they disappear from beneath your hands and frown as the beautiful expanse of forest before you gives way to the cramped and machinery-cluttered interior of the holosuite.

“A pity,” sighs Weyoun, turning to you and taking your hands in his own. “I was hoping that hour might break the rules of spacetime and stretch out just a bit longer.”

It’s a little cheesy, but you giggle anyway, and he grins to have gotten to you. Lifting a hand to his lips, he presses one of his signature kisses to the back of it, and you sigh, squeeze his hand in return.

Emerging from the holosuite on Weyoun’s arm once more, you cringe at the din of the bar, so cacophonous compared to the quiet of the forest. But nothing can shake the absolute serenity now instilled within you. You practically float down the walkway, and though pairs of eyes follow your progress as they did before, this time you find it quite easy to pay them no mind.

Weyoun notes your confidence with an approving hum. “Not so self-conscious now, I see.”

You grin a little, shrug your shoulders. He responds with a chuckle and teases you in that lilting, singsong voice of his: “I wonder why.”

The walk back to your quarters is shorter than you’d like it to be, and before you know it you’re standing at the entrance to your quarters. Frowning, you turn to face Weyoun, not quite ready to part ways.

“It was a pretty short hour,” you say.

“Indeed it was.”

“It doesn’t...have to be over so soon. You could come inside…”

“I’m afraid not, my dear,” he sighs, and there’s genuine disappointment in his voice as he cradles your hands in his own. “I’m due elsewhere on the station in five minutes’ time.”

He soothes away your dejection with another quick couple of kisses to the back of your knuckles – and then, with a coy smile, one to the very corner of your lips. You turn your head to try to catch it full-on, but he dodges you deftly – ever the tease. You understand the purpose behind this tactic of leaving you wanting at the end of each of your encounters, but it frustrates you all the same, and Weyoun grins infuriatingly at your pouting.

“Try not to fret too much. I promise I’ll be in touch again very soon.”

You can only swallow, nod, and linger on his gaze as long as politely possible before allowing your hands to slip from his and turning with great reluctance to enter your quarters.

Sleep hasn’t been coming easily to you these past few weeks. But tonight, it greets you kindly, and you drift into an easy slumber with a smile on your lips.

[gabrielitas]

phew it's good to know i'm boy the only one super behind lmao

alright answering questions and asking some more because i have a funny little group of questions that mean nothing but i like to ask

alright so i do bias soonyoung 🙄🙄 didn't think you'd guess so early. i also like seokmin and minghao 🥴🤤 aLSO, WHY HAS SEUNGCHEOL BEEN LOOKING SO CUTE RECENTLY I CANT HANDLE 😩😩

outside of kpop i may or may not have had an emo phase (read: fall out boy, panic!at the disco, my chemical romance). i may or may not still listen emo music. i also LOVE CONAN GRAYYY. idk if he's still indie but i love indie too! probably one of my favorite genres though is classical (instrumental if you wanna get technical 🙄 been yelled at bc cLaSsiCaL iS a TiMe PeRiOd)

the best of us had emo phases ☝️ mine is a little longer lasting three years in middle school. due to this, fall out boy is one of my favorite artists! i’m also a big tchaikovsky fan, and i like doja cat a lot too!

in response to your question about 1518 strasbourg, this is when and where the dancing plague of 1518 happened dnsbsbshja. it's where the phrase "dance till you die" originated lmao. i think it'd be funny to witness this/take part in it. aside from that, id probably fuck with california in 1849 because the gold rush🧎‍♀️, france in the 1880s, or america in the 1980/1990s! i’m a history nerd courtesy of my father, so i choose all my time periods based off some of my favorite historical events! 1880s for architecture mostly, gold rush because lawlessness and the "wild west", and the 80s for the cold war :)

the night is beautiful if you take the time to live it. for me, my favorite time across the board is lunch time-12:00 ish to 3:00 just because the sun is highest and i feel happiest! i like the night when i go out on bike rides because i feel alive/ like i’m not wasting my teen years

GIRL IM NORTHEAST US TOO DJNSBSBSVABWB #goals lmao

i have 1 sister and she's super annoying🙄 i also have 2 cats and a dog (i consider them my siblings)

the most recent show i binged and finished was criminal minds, and i tried supernatural but it's just so bad i cant get past season 11. i’m working on hannibal right now!

the last book i really enjoyed was the summer i turned pretty! i’m a sucker for romance books 😩

questions i've got:

- do you have any siblings or pets?

- do you play any instruments?

- what's your favorite font?

- how many pillows and stuffed animals do you sleep with? (i have too many to count)

- would you rather live in an urban, suburban, or rural setting?

I FRIKIN KNEW U BIASED SOONYOUNG UR VIBES R SO HORANGHE I COULD JUST TELL and i gotta say ur the second person who’s had both minghao and soonyoung on ur bias list and i just find that so funny cuz they’re polar opposites to me (also u have impeccable taste with minghao that boy is my ult and has my whole heart) AND OMG RIGHT??? seungcheol needs to *CHILL*😤

omg yes conan gray😫 this is gonna sound whiny but heather was one of my favorite songs of his before it became a tiktok trend💅

and yes the best of us *did* have emo phases, mine lasted from late 8th grade into the first half of freshman year, so it was kinda short lived but it still happened lol

also, seeing tchaikovsky and doja cat next to each other in a sentence is so funny (but in a weird way i get it lol) i’m not the *biggest* classical/instrumental fan, but i have def used it as study music when songs with lyrics r just too distracting. back to doja tho!! have u listened to her new album?? do u have a fav song off of it? (i haven’t listened to all of it but i do have a couple that i rlly like)

omg how did i not recognize that u were talking abt the dancing plague!!!!!🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ idk if u watch buzzfeed unsolved or watcher but they have a series called puppet history and the episode on the dancing plague is one of my favorites! also omg yes another history nerd who knows abt history b/c of her dad!!!! i’m prob most knowledgeable abt wwii, the civil rights movement in the us, and the spanish civil war cuz those r my dads main interests and i was sat down in front of documentaries abt those topics at the age of like, 3 lol. and wanting to experience the wild west is such a perfect and iconic era to want to live in, and wanting to experience the cold war is so funny (b/c i’m sure the ppl who were living it without knowing the ending like us felt the exact opposite lol)

and yes the night is so beautiful when u just give it ur attention. like, on my birthday it was raining and i didn’t have school the next day (and my birthdays i’m may so it was pretty warm) so i just went outside at like, midnight ish and listened to the rain and crocheted and it was truly so nice 😫 also omg last year when covid had us all at home i went for a bike ride almost every day after school to just get out of my room and it was so nice!! it was my bike from when i was like, 12 but i’m 4’11 so i was still able to ride it without a problem lsnsksns

and yes pets r absolutely siblings, my cat prob acts more like s typical sibling than my two younger siblings do lsnsksns (srsly tho my cat is an asshole she fucked up my leg the other day cuz i gave her food late smh)

omg hun season 11?? how many seasons of that goddamn show r there??? i couldn’t get past episode 1😭 (i rlly only started watching it b/c of dean from gilmore girls sksnksns) the show i’m currently bingeing rn tho is downton abbey, as i’m sure u can tell from how much downton shit u had to scroll past to find my answer to ur last ask alskkskjsjs (i’m so so sorry 😭)

ooo that sounds like a rlly good book title, what was it abt? i just finished a secret history (which FUCKED ME UP MY GOD THERES A LOT OF MURDER) and i’m currently working on the sequel to my name is asher lev by chaim potok (who is one of my fav jewish/classic literature authors and also just a rlly good author in general)

for ur questions:

-yes i do have siblings! two younger (one four and a half years younger and one a little over nine years younger than me so i’m the oldest by quite a bit lol) and i do have a pet! my cat sweetie who is an asshole who i love very much

-i took piano for like a year in second grade but then third grade happened and i was rlly bad at math so my parents switched from paying for piano lessons to paying for math tutoring lessons and i now remember literally nothing from piano lessons sksnksns

-i,,, dont think i have a favorite font? i do like to write in cursive and have a collection of calligraphy pens that i bust out on special occasions so there’s that i guess lol

-ok i have two normal pillows, one chair/armrest/pillow thing (idk if that makes sense but that’s the only way i know how to describe it sksnksns), a body pillow, and a single stuffed bear that live on my bed

-ooo so this is difficult for me cuz i technically live in a suburb but we’re *right next* to a major city in my state (like i’m a 20ish min car ride from my states baseball stadium and a 20 min walk to the college of the major city) so this has kinda made me rlly like both? like, i like the quiet of the suburbs but i cant handle not being able to walk to the closest boba shop or movie theatre or bookshop but i also don’t rlly love the noise and lights that there are in the city at night. so idk sksnksns

what do u like more tho? the city or the suburbs? also since u asked the question i’m assuming u have a fav form and i’m now rlly interested in finding out what it is lol

goodnight!❤️ (or good morning if ur seeing this in the morning since i’m answering this at midnight lol)

[rokutouxei]

burnt pancakes, sweet syrup

part 2 of: atelier heart

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theodorus van gogh / mc | gen | 2857 | [ao3 in bio]

some of my favorite (imagined) scenes in between chapters of Theo's route. no direct spoilers in this one :)

to all those who are experiencing his route for the first time today, I hope you have an enjoyable stay in his story!

Of all the residents in the mansion, it was Theo who felt most like danger.

Who reminded you of gunpowder.

You wouldn’t call yourself the best judge of character, no, of course, but there was something about him that hounded you from your very first day at the mansion. The brief and curt introduction, the look on his eyes, his set jaw. You didn’t need to get any closer to get much of a sense of what kind of person he was.

In fact, you didn’t really want to, not when you’ve been thrown a hundred years into the past, into an era you do not know, into a country that isn’t yours, in a world that doesn’t seem like where you’ve come from, where everything is just a little bit different from what you know.

You had enough in your hands as it is. A sourpuss smart-mouth hounding you shouldn’t be part of your agenda here.

And yet it still is.

Almost inevitably–like all the fated things.

(one.)

It started with the day you burn the pancakes the first time you tried to help Sebastian with breakfast duty.

…Well, you didn’t burn them black, just a little more… say, toasty than what would have been preferable. You have a billion excuses in your head already: you’re not sure how to work this kind of stove, there’s something about the oil, the ingredients are different in the 21st century–but none of them make it out of your mouth, because Sebastian gives you this look that will say more than any length of speaking will do. You half-attempt to answer back quietly; a little cringe, narrowed eyebrows, awkward grin, wrinkled nose. You wipe your hands on your apron like doing that washes you of your culinary crime.

Your already-exhausted teacher sighs through his nose and scrapes off the remnants of your… little tragedy into a clean plate, having deemed it to be unfit for breakfast. You pout a little as you set it aside–arguing in your head: it’s just brown, this is still edible, you’re just being picky, Sebastian–but before you can turn back to see how Sebastian’s doing his “better cooked” versions of it, you hear the sound of the kitchen door opening.

Sebastian doesn’t turn–“I can usually tell who it is by their footsteps.” “You can what?”–but you do, spotting Theo standing by the doorway.

“Bonjour, Theo,” you greet, and he makes a small sound of acknowledgement as he turns to get something from a cabinet hidden out of your sight. A small jar or bottle? You don’t quite see what it is before he hides it in his pocket. “Early day today?”

“Personal business,” he answers, rather curtly–it used to make you jump, but you now know that’s just how he is. He turns to regard you and inevitably spots the lonely plate on your side of the counter.

He’s about to swoop in to get it (with a kind of targeted gaze you thought only birds of prey could have) so you push it aside, earning a little tch from him. That shocks you quite a bit–it’s just pancakes! and burnt ones too!–that it makes you stagger back.

Sebastian’s voice is steady as he says, “If you could wait a moment, Sir Theodorus, these next ones will be ready in a few.” The butler doesn’t even turn to face either both of you, but you know he’s watching you both carefully in his peripheral vision.

Theo’s frown deepens. “What’s wrong with these ones?” he asks.

For a moment, victory tastes gold in your mouth, and you’re just about to throw the entire plate at his face with a fork and maybe match the gesture with evil laughter, if only to prove Sebastian wrong. The statement seems to be enough to garner the butler’s full attention, turning to Theo with genuine shock.

“Sir, the–”

“This is fine. I have to go,” Theo quickly quips. “Hondje. Get me some syrup.”

He snatches the plate from your side quickly, takes a fork from the drying rack, his coat fluttering slightly from the sudden movement as he takes a seat on the small prep table inside the kitchen. You just stare at him kind of dumbly, because now, in that different light, the sun pouring through the open windows, the plate of pancakes looks… pathetic at best. Maybe Sebastian was right about it being unsuitable for breakfast.

“Hondje,” he calls you again, this time his tone deeper.

You zone back in. “Huh?” 

“Syrup bottles do not walk on their own.”

You frown on instinct, but knowing that that only makes you target for more teasing, you straighten your face into a clumsy kind of laughter. “Oh, yeah, haha, okay,” you say, half-absentmindedly, reaching up toward the cupboard where you’ve been told the pancake syrup is. (And, to your absolute horror, realizing that the entirety of that cupboard is filled with syrup bottles. How much does a house of 12 need?!) You place it on the table and step back.

You don’t know what distracts you and keeps your eyes on him as he eats…but since you won’t dare ask yourself, you sit with the insecurity that settles at the bottom of your stomach: that he’s eating something that’s half-assed, something you could have made better; that he’s eating something you’ve made, and it had to be those semi-charcoal pancakes.

—not that he can taste whatever burnt (or not-burnt) bits there are with the sheer amount of syrup he’d poured onto the plate.

“What the f—,” you say, pausing at the last syllable, unable to continue. Perhaps it was for the better that he had thrown in an absolute tsunami worth of syrup onto the charred pancakes, but still…

He looks up at you with eyes posing a challenge. You can nearly hear his voice saying, have something to say about it? And you’re a smart person, at least to some degree, you’d like to think, so you don’t take it: just watch him finally close the bottle and begins to slice his meal. The pancakes are so drenched it drips syrup all the way from when he lifts a piece up from the plate to when he finally puts it in his mouth.

But, oh.

The small smile that tugs at the corner of his lips makes your heart stop.

Oh, ever so serious Theo, frown eternally sketched onto his face–is all it takes to get him to loosen up a small stack of burnt pancakes drowned in a stroke-inducing amount of syrup?

And just as you’re about to look away–staring any more felt like invading into a space that wasn’t your own, like he was having some sort of private moment with his diabetes overload pancakes–he wipes off a stray drop of maple syrup that buds at the corner of his lip with a thumb, before cleaning it with his tongue. You pretend not to be entranced.

When he catches you staring, you turn away with a yelp, cheeks burning like the pancakes you were just making.

-

(two.)

Whatever it was that happened in the kitchen that day only seemed to make things worse for your heart whenever Theo is around.

Which annoyed you, if you were to be entirely honest. He was so insufferable, with his stupid smug smirk and the way he acts like he can have control over everything, calling you mutt or bait like nobody’s business… you aren’t supposed to feel good about being more than a little affected by him being around.

And yet you are.

You are, on the day that you catch him in Vincent’s room, going through the canvases stacked by the wall. They’re looking at the artworks talking about current trends in the art scene, and when Theo lets out an unwarranted burst of praise for his brother, Vincent pats him on the head. The little blush on Theo’s cheeks and the shy grin on Theo’s face makes you stop in your tracks, standing at the doorway with a tray of some cake that now looks too bland in comparison to their sweetness.

You are, on the day you join him drinking with Arthur downtown, at a local bar, after a long day of having been teased for his being too blunt, too mean. You don’t know the reason for it (yet) but you know the intentions now, so you’re less intent on needing to soften him, really. (It was only just amusing to see him try so hard.) When Theo “passes” the test, he runs Arthur’s royalties dry by ordering top-shelf and putting it all under the author’s now too-long tab. Theo has a different kind of meanness to the ones he cares about, and you wonder if he knows it shows.

You are, on the days that you join him for work and get to see how his expression changes when he gets in the zones. The wonder that fills his face, lets it glow, the contentment with every completed sale, every satisfied customer, and the young, obscure artists’ otherwise would have been kept away paintings hanging on the lavish walls of patrons. You’re entranced by the stars in his eyes.

You are.

And maybe, you are not just a little affected by him being around.

Not that you’ll tell that to his face.

(Not that he needs you to tell him.)

-

(three.)

The streets of Paris glow with a soft lavender light after the late afternoon shower; the cobblestone streets shimmer in what’s left of the rain. The avenues are unfamiliar, the names just vaguely intelligible with your French. There is much to learn about 19th century Paris, and even if you’ll only be here for a month, you plan to make the most out of it.

So in a way, when you’re out at town, you’re always multitasking. You’re doing a grocery run with Sebastian but also observing the kinds of food there is in the market; the kind of clothes people are wearing; the architecture; the way people talk. You’re with Theo to head to a gallery but you’re memorizing the details around you, burning them into your memory, like you could crystallize them in your mind and bring them with you back home: the uneven cobblestone paths under your low-heeled shoes, the clack clack clack of horseshoes down the street, the rickety sound of wheels, the music playing.

You’re not paying attention to where you’re going, watching someone play a violin for a small crowd of children on the street when you collide against something–warm; someone!–with a muffled “Oof!”

“Pardon!” you call out, only to look up and see who it is. “Oh! Theo.”

“Do you never watch where you’re going in the time you’re from or are you just–”

“Shhh!” You say, a finger against his mouth. In a millisecond you realize how rude it is, so you take it back and hide your guilty hand behind you. “I was just enjoying a little violin. Don’t be so grumpy.”

“Why don’t you go closer and watch, then?”

A pause. “…I should be going back to the mansion,” you say, looking up at the sky dousing the streets in a lovely lavender shade. “I just wanted to listen while I was passing by.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You don’t seem like you want to go home.”

You don’t know what gives you away, but you figure it’s because you’re walking the opposite direction to where the carriages usually are. Besides, Theo always says you’re easy to read. You grin awkwardly up at him. “19th century France is quite interesting…?” you offer by way of explanation.

Theo used to be rather opaque to you, everything hidden behind a light-proof curtain of a façade. But you’d like to say you’re getting better at reading the man, watching his expressions change by minute amounts as he considers something in his head.

He sighs. Rather overdramatically, too. You catch that. “My errands are done for today. I’ll come with you so you can stay out here a little longer.”

France at night is still pretty dangerous, after all. “You will?!” you ask, rather surprised at the generosity. (Though perhaps you shouldn’t be.)

“It’s normal to take your dog for a walk, no?” he quips back, and you jut your tongue out at him in retaliation. It makes him smirk, and that makes you laugh, and so begins your little tour of Paris on foot.

Not that you’re doing so much touring as walking next to Theo as he takes the long route around town through the most interesting bits of it. And not just the famous destinations like the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe, no, but even the tiny details, down alleys with colorful banners, a lively little cafe–“Aww, too bad that it’s full.” “We can go some other day.” A beat. “Really?!” “…Stop that.”–churches, museums.

You don’t notice time passing by, really, until the streets are deep into darkness, the sky a beautiful indigo littered with stars. You walk two steps behind Theo, looking upwards to the heavens. You don’t notice when he stops walking until you bump shoulders with him.

“Whoops,” is all you can muster, as he looks at you with a kind of condescending look.

“You should really watch where you’re going, god knows where you might end up in,” he says drily, and you don’t know if he’s talking about you ending up in this century in the first place or something else. You don’t get the chance to ask him about it though, because he takes your hand in his, now, while you’re walking along the riverside, like an adult would hold onto a child, or maybe, perhaps, possibly, you don’t dare hope, could be, like a lover would…

You get so distracted by the warmth of his palm in yours, feeling the heat like summer sunlight seep in the crevices of your bones that were longing for home, that you barely feel the chill of incoming rain.

-

(four.)

To others, Theo seems invulnerable. No gaps in his armor, the one he wears every day, in front of everyone he meets. But eventually you know better than that.

Kintsukuroi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery—you take the shattered pieces and put them back on with lacquer dusted with gold. The sites of breakage no longer a site of shame, but instead places one proudly carries; becoming even more precious, even more treasured now that it has gone through the act of having come apart, to come back together.

Moonlight pierces through the windows, silver on the floor of the atelier, illuminating Theo’s sleeping form. In your mind, you see where the golden veins run.

-

(five.)

On the night he breaks your heart, you dream of burning.

A flash of lightning strikes a dead tree, setting it bursting into a mesmerizing, orange-yellow flame. Smoke easily climbs out of the trunk, a deep gray that you feel like you’ve seen somewhere else, felt somewhere else. You stand there across a barren field as the lightning strike–long gone–has left this bundle of tree set ablaze, one which will soon be ashes.

It smells like fire everywhere.

The thing is, fire doesn’t really smell like anything–though it does smell like what it’s burning. Wood, fuel, dried paint.

Flowers.

When you wake up, you are cold, the other half of the bed is empty, and the sun hasn’t risen.

You pray it is all just a dream, but don’t dare go back to sleep, just lie there with a lifetime of what ifs tucked underneath your pillow, framed by your hair.

--

But that’s okay.

Because Theo can show you the worst of him, but you know better.

Because you've seen the best in him. 

Because Theo is a tsunami of syrup on burnt pancakes.

Because Theo is low, cruel laughter laced with love.

Because Theo is walking around Paris in the late afternoon.

Because Theo is dreaming of sunrise: even when the night is darkest right before it.

And one day, you’ll wake up in bed with Theo by your side the day after the door has closed on the both of you. The streets of Paris will glow with a soft lavender light in the early dawn. The both of you will be tucked in familiar-smelling sheets, that distinctly-Theo scent that makes you feel home. On that day, there will be no turning back. On that day, there is only now and forever. And it’ll be messy like his hair sticking up in odd places and the remnant of drool white against the corner of your mouth, but it will be warm, the embrace of Theo’s arms around your torso, like he’s holding you together the way you have built him back from his broken pieces, and it will be sweet, much sweeter than anything you’ve ever tasted your entire life.

It will be worth it.

An eternity of syrup-flavored kisses shared over breakfast.

--

in the atelier: quai de la seine, edouard cortes

[prakhayth]

Understanding The Different Types of Cryptocurrency

January 15, 2021 · 8 minute read

We’re here to help! First and foremost, SoFi Learn strives to be a beneficial resource to you as you navigate your financial journey. Read more

Cryptocurrencies can act like real money—in a sense, they are real money—but they take a digital monetary form and are not managed or governed by any central authority. A true product of the digital age, cryptocurrencies operate without the involvement of banks, governments, or any middleman. However, in most cases you will need to use a digital currency exchange to buy and sell cryptocurrency.

In 2020, there were more than 50 million blockchain wallet users.

What provides security is that cryptocurrencies are encrypted (secured) with specialized computer code called cryptography. They’re designed like a complicated puzzle on purpose so that they’re hard to crack (and hack).

By September 2020, the number of blockchain wallet users rose to more than 50 million, according to research published by Statista  —with Bitcoin boasting more than 7 million active users.

Insiders call it “crypto,” so that’s what we’ll be calling it going forward.

How Many Different Types of Crypto Are There?

As of April 2021, there are over 10,000 different types  of cryptocurrency.

The different types of crypto generally fall into one of two categories: •  Coins, which can include Bitcoin and altcoins (non-Bitcoin cryptocurrencies) •  Tokens

Below, we’ll get into the basics of crypto tokens vs coins.

Crypto Tokens vs. Coins

Encrypted coins and tokens can fall under the heading of crypto. And, generally, they can be listed into two sorts of cryptocurrency: alternative cryptocurrency coins (Altcoins) or tokens.

Alternative Cryptocurrency Coins (Altcoins)

Altcoins usually refer to any coins that are not Bitcoins. Bitcoin is a popular digital currency that’s produced by computational solutions to complicated math problems. It works separately from a central bank or state entity (i.e., government-backed Treasury).

Some altcoins include:

•  Peercoin •  Litecoin •  Dogecoin •  Auroracoin •  Namecoin

In fact, the name “altcoin” actually means “alternative to Bitcoin.” Namecoin is considered the very first altcoin, created in 2011.

Like Bitcoin, most cryptocurrencies listed here have a limited supply of coins—to keep the balance in check and to reinforce its perceived value. There is a fixed number of Bitcoins that can exist—21 million, as decided by the creator/s of Bitcoin, though some remain to be mined. Once all 21 million are tapped (the number changes when new blocks are mined), that’s it. The only way to bring in more is for Bitcoin’s protocol to allow for it.

Though most altcoins are built upon the same basic framework as Bitcoin, many claim to be better versions of Bitcoin. Each system can differ from the next, as they’re created to serve various purposes and applications, and identified in different ways.

Some coins don’t work with the same open-source protocol that Bitcoin does, however. For example, the following list of cryptocurrencies have created their own separate systems and protocols:

•  Ethereum •  Ripple •  Omni •  Nxt •  Waves •  Counterparty

They’re each self-supporting, too.

Tokens

Unlike altcoins, tokens are created and given out through an Initial Coin Offering, or ICO, very much like a stock offering. They can be represented as:

•  Value tokens (Bitcoins) •  Security tokens (to protect your account) •  Utility tokens (designated for specific uses)

They are not so much meant to be used as money as they are used to describe a function. Like American dollars, they represent value but they are not in themselves of value. Tokens are a type of encryption, specifically referring to the long lines of numbers and letters representing the crypto used in a transaction, such as a money transfer or bill payment. In short, tokens cover a number of meanings.

For instance, both Bitcoin and Ether (from Ethereum) are considered crypto tokens.

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The Most Common Types of Cryptocurrency

Here’s a list of popular cryptocurrency types and descriptions:

1. Bitcoin

Bitcoin is a type of digital currency; it is “cash for the internet.” More specifically, it’s considered cryptocurrency since cryptography facilitates Bitcoin creation and transactions.

Possibly the “Kleenex” or “Coca Cola” of all crypto, in that its name is the most recognizable and the most closely associated with the cryptocurrency system.

There are currently  more than 18.5 million Bitcoin tokens in circulation, against a present capped limit of 21 million.

2. Bitcoin Cash

Introduced in 2017, Bitcoin Cash is one of the most popular types of cryptocurrency on the market. Its main difference with the original Bitcoin is its block size: 8MB. Compare that to the original Bitcoin’s block size of just 1MB. What that means for users—faster processing speeds.

3. Litecoin

Litecoin is increasingly used in the same breath as Bitcoin, and it functions practically the same way. It was created in 2011 by Charlie Lee, a former employee of Google. He designed it to improve on Bitcoin technology, with shorter transaction times, lower fees, more concentrated miners.

4. Ethereum

Unlike Bitcoin, Ethereum focuses not as much on digital currency as it does on decentralized applications (phone apps). You could think of Ethereum as an app store.

The platform is looking to return control of apps to its original creators, and take away that control from middlemen (like Apple, for instance). The only person who can make changes to the app would be the original creator. The token used here is called Ether, which is used as currency by app developers and users.

5. Ripple

Ripple is one type of cryptocurrency on the list, but it’s not Blockchain-based  . It’s not meant so much for individual users as it is for larger companies and corporations, moving larger amounts of money (its coinage is known as XRP) across the globe.

It’s more well-known for its digital payment protocol more than for its XRP crypto. That’s because the system allows for transfer of monies in any form, be it dollars or even Bitcoin (or others). It claims to be able to handle 1,500 transactions per second (tps). Compare this with Bitcoin, which can handle 3-6 tps (not including scaling layers). Ethereum can handle 15 tps.

6. Stellar

Stellar focuses on money transfers, and its network is designed to make them faster and more efficient, even across national borders. It was designed by Ripple co-founder Jed McCaleb in 2014 and is operated by a non-profit organization called Stellar.org  .

Its goal is to assist developing economies that may not have access to traditional banks and investment opportunities. It doesn’t charge users or institutions for using its Stellar network, and covers operating costs by accepting tax-deductible public donations.

7. NEO

Formerly called Antshares and developed in China, NEO is very aggressively looking to become a major global crypto player. Its focus is smart contracts (digital contracts) that allow users to create and execute agreements without the use of an intermediary.

It’s going after its main competition, Ethereum, but NEO lead developer Erik Zhang mentioned  on a Reddit AMA that NEO has three distinct advantages—better architecture, more developer-friendly smart contracts, and digital identity and digital assets for easier integration into the real world.

Ethereum, on the other hand, uses its own programming languages that developers must first learn before creating smart contracts on its platform.

8. Cardano

Cardano aka ADA is used to send and receive digital funds. It claims to be a more balanced and sustainable ecosystem for cryptocurrencies, and the only coin with a “scientific philosophy and research-driven approach.”

That means that it undergoes especially rigorous reviews by scientists and programmers. It was founded by Charles Hoskinson, who is also the co-founder of Ethereum.

9. IOTA

Launched in 2016, IOTA stands for Internet of Things Application. Unlike most other Blockchain technologies, it doesn’t actually work with a block and chain; it works with smart devices on the Internet of Things (IoT).

All you need to do to use it is to verify two other previous transactions on the IOTA ledger, which is called the Directed Acyclic Graph (DAG), but IOTA creators call it The Tangle.

According to Coin Central  , this means the devices need to be able to purchase more electricity, bandwidth, storage, or data when they need them, and sell those resources when they don’t need them.

The Role of Miners In Cryptocurrency

How exactly do you get your virtual hands on different types of cryptocurrency? You can buy it the old-fashioned way. Or, you can trade it on an exchange using other crypto (for example, using Bitcoin to buy NEO). Some blogs and media platforms pay its content providers in crypto.

Then, there are the miners  . Miners usually don’t pay directly for their crypto; they earn it with their smarts. These tech savvy investors can be compared to the prospectors of the Old West, panning for gold in 1848.

The value is built in because the supply is limited—it’s just up to the complex computers to dig it up by cracking codes and solving complicated puzzles. A lot of it is guesswork, but once the “block” (of the blockchain) is solved, the other miners drop what they’re doing and go on to the next block. No parting gifts—the contestants just turn their attention to the next game round.

If the puzzle is solved, the reward is a certain amount of crypto, and sometimes even voting power on the platform. As of October 2020, the value of one bitcoin had well exceeded $13,000  .

Sounds sweet, but mining isn’t cheap. It requires powerful, expensive hardware and lots of electricity. Also, the number of awarded crypto will be going down, usually by halves every four years or so. Unfortunately, that might not do your utility bill any favors.

Forks, Hard Forks, and Soft Forks

Sometimes, a cryptocurrency—whether Bitcoin or an altcoin—forks. This typically happens when systems need an upgrade or update, or occasional steering (ie a large enough group of miners decide to make new rules for the network.

You could think of a fork like an actual fork, the kind you eat with. Each prong represents a different open-source code modification, but the prongs are designed to work together to assist in the main function.

Sometimes, forks happen by accident when nodes start making copies or if they do not recognize conflicting or unfamiliar information or characteristics. This is what leads to the difference between hard forks and soft forks.

Hard Forks

If a protocol is changed so that the old protocol version is no longer valid, call that a hard fork. This could be problematic, because if the older, now-invalid protocol is still running, it could lead you to scratch your head and say, “what the fork?” It could cause confusion and even possibly a loss of funds, because the old and new protocols running together are butting heads and making mysteries.

An example of a hard-fork problem—with Bitcoin, for instance, a hard fork is a must when making changes and protocol updates to the Blockchain. The new protocol is cool with the changes, but the old protocol becomes a hot mess, not understanding the new activity going on.

Since the old protocol rejects the new changes because it doesn’t recognize them, that causes a traffic jam or worse. The old protocol will claim that the changes and updates are not valid, even if they are. What you then get are two blockchains, one old and one new. As these chains grow, so can your problems.

The hard-fork challenge, then, is to get all the nodes on the old protocol to switch to the new protocol all at once, and at the same time. This sounds easy, but technically it’s easier said than done.

Soft Forks

Unlike a hard fork, a soft fork is totally cool with the new changes and keeps working. The old version accepts the newer version. Harmony! The newer, updated blocks become longer, and it becomes obvious that the older (shorter) blocks are obsolete and unusable. This recognition eliminates confusion over which protocol is now the real deal (it’s the newer, valid one.)

When a soft fork is implemented, there has to be a “majority vote” on whether to accept it into the established fold. If not, the new soft fork fails, and the rest of the chain simply goes on it with its life with no interruption. Hard-and-soft forking can cause all kinds of unintended consequences. When members of the Ethereum community rejected a hard-fork change and decided to keep going with the non-forked version of Ethereum, that old-school system was renamed Ethereum Classic.

When Bitcoin hard-forked in order to add more functionality, a portion of the Bitcoin Cash community was left behind and was cut off from the rest of the network.

The Current View of Crypto

Bitcoin and other crypto have recently come under fire for their ability to be involved in illegal transactions.

Three words—wait and see. And add two words to that—be careful. An October 2020 Bloomberg report  stated that Bitcoin approached its highest valuation since 2017.

Dead Coins lists 1,050 digital currencies and initial coin offerings (ICO) as either “deceased.” Coinopsy  catalogues cryptocurrency lists of more than 1,700 coins as nearly worthless.

It’s possible that a good number of those failed cryptos were scams, and the authentic, true-quality systems remain in place.

Furthermore, from a perception perspective, Bitcoin and other crypto have recently come under fire for their ability to be involved in illegal transactions, thefts, and scams. That’s just one of the reasons that investing in the list of cryptocurrencies out there still carries significant risk. Crypto has also been suspected as being a part of an economic bubble that may still pop.

The Takeaway

While Bitcoin launched a new asset class little more than a decade ago, today there are many different cryptocurrencies for investors to learn about and invest in.

If your curiosity about cryptocurrency is fueled by a desire to start investing, SoFi Invest® can be a great place to start. SoFi members can manage crypto investments in the SoFi app, with the peace of mind of knowing their crypto is in a secure platform.

Find out how SoFi Invest can help you with your investment goals.

Learn More

SoFi Invest® The information provided is not meant to provide investment or financial advice. Investment decisions should be based on an individual’s specific financial needs, goals and risk profile. SoFi can’t guarantee future financial performance. Advisory services offered through SoFi Wealth, LLC. SoFi Securities, LLC, member FINRA  / SIPC  . SoFi Invest refers to the three investment and trading platforms operated by Social Finance, Inc. and its affiliates (described below). Individual customer accounts may be subject to the terms applicable to one or more of the platforms below. 1) Automated Investing—The Automated Investing platform is owned by SoFi Wealth LLC, an SEC Registered Investment Advisor (“Sofi Wealth“). Brokerage services are provided to SoFi Wealth LLC by SoFi Securities LLC, an affiliated SEC registered broker dealer and member FINRA/SIPC, (“Sofi Securities). 2) Active Investing—The Active Investing platform is owned by SoFi Securities LLC. Clearing and custody of all securities are provided by APEX Clearing Corporation. 3) Cryptocurrency is offered by SoFi Digital Assets, LLC, a FinCEN registered Money Service Business. For additional disclosures related to the SoFi Invest platforms described above, including state licensure of Sofi Digital Assets, LLC, please visit www.sofi.com/legal. Neither the Investment Advisor Representatives of SoFi Wealth, nor the Registered Representatives of SoFi Securities are compensated for the sale of any product or service sold through any SoFi Invest platform. Information related to lending products contained herein should not be construed as an offer or pre-qualification for any loan product offered by SoFi Lending Corp and/or its affiliates. Crypto: Bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies aren’t endorsed or guaranteed by any government, are volatile, and involve a high degree of risk. Consumer protection and securities laws don’t regulate cryptocurrencies to the same degree as traditional brokerage and investment products. Research and knowledge are 

[douchebagbrainwaves]

IT'S CHARISMA, 372

Certainly it can be launched. That's what you're addicted to.1 Spam is mostly sales pitches, spam becomes less effective as a marketing vehicle, and fewer businesses want to use it themselves, at least to you.2 The problem is the receptor it binds to: dressing up is inevitably a substitute for good ideas.3 I'll start by telling you something you don't have to explain why. But you know the ideas are out there.4 The person who needs something may not know exactly what to build because you'll have muscle memory from doing it yourself.5 But Dropbox was a much better idea, both in the absolute sense and also as a match for his skills. For coming up with startup ideas on demand. So you have two choices about the shape of hole you start with. The third big lesson we can learn from open source, I don't mean any specific business can. Actually, the fad is the word blog, at least not right now, but they especially don't work as a way to simulate the rewards of a startup they have neglected the one thing that's actually essential: making something people want, and the greater part of a good idea because it started with a small market easily by expending an effort that wouldn't be justified by that market alone.

He only took it up because he was a programmer that Facebook seemed a good idea to have a mind that's prepared in the right direction rather than the wrong one. I've described is near zero. Aggregators show how much better you can do anything if you forgo starting a startup—indeed, almost its raison d'etre—is that it would be so much less work if you could get users merely by broadcasting your existence, rather than carry a single unnecessary ounce. Was there some kind of salesperson. Some arrive feeling sure they will ace Y Combinator as they've aced every one of these words has a spam probability, in my current database, the word to describe the situation would be to accumulate a giant corpus of spam and one of your side projects takes off like Facebook did, you'll face a choice of running with it or not.6 Stripe is one of the keys to retaining their monopoly.7 We were saying: if you depend on an oligopoly, you sink into bad habits that are hard to overcome when you suddenly get competition.

I do before x? Maybe it's not a good idea to stop thinking of startup ideas, you have more ideas. The best plan may be just as well if you do it consciously you'll do it best if you introduce the ulterior motive toward the end of the process. Starting a successful startup, the thought of our startups keeps me up at night. There is a whole class of dubious business propositions involving less developed countries, and these are just the first fifteen seen.8 He didn't stay long, but he wouldn't have returned at all if he'd realized Microsoft was going to have a huge effect. And they know the same about spam, including the headers.9 That's what was killing them. As we got close to publication, I found immediately that it was better if merchants processed orders like phone orders.

Well, math will give you more options to choose your life's work from.10 Fouls happen. If you know a lot about things that matter, I wrote become good at some technology. 84421706 same 0. 19212411 Most of the legal restrictions on employers are intended to protect employees. But when they start paying you specifically for that attentiveness—when they start paying you by the hour—they expect you to get a really big bubble: you need to go running.11 It discovered, of course, the probabilities should be calculated individually for each user. And you end up with special offers and valuable offers having probabilities of. 06080265 prices 0. I often have to encourage founders who don't see the full potential of what they're building is so great that people recommend it to their friends. I think, is to step onto an orthogonal vector.12 A startup just starting out can't expect to excavate that much volume.13

And yet have you ever seen a Google ad? 9889 and. Think about what you have to do is give them a share of it. Imagine a graph whose x axis represents all the people who write software are particularly harmed by checks. Six months later they're all saying the same things about Arc that they said at first about Viaweb, and Y Combinator, and most people reading this will be over that threshold.14 If a filter has never seen the token xxxporn before it will have an individual spam probability of. As day jobs go, it's pretty sweet.15

If the present range of productivity is 0 to 100, introducing a multiple of 10 increases the range from 0 to 1000. We assumed his logo would deter any actual customers, but it did not. Even colocating servers seemed too risky, considering how often things went wrong with them. You build something, make it available, and if you can make it happen. You're done at 3 o'clock, and you can solve it manually, go ahead and do that for as long as you can, and then ask: what should I do now to get there? When one looks over these trends, is there any overall theme?16 Good ones, anyway. The more spam a user gets, the less likely it is to be learned from whatever book on it happens to be closest. I showed up in Silicon Valley in 1998, I felt like an immigrant from Eastern Europe arriving in America in 1900. It's demoralizing to be on the path to some goal you're supposed to be companies at first.

Yes and no. The malaise you feel is the same. Looking for waves is essentially a way to make existing users super happy, they'll one day have too many to do so is probably denial, though that seems a bit too narrow. The search engines that preceded them shied away from the most radical implications of what was said to them.17 The fifteen most interesting words in this spam are: qvp0045 indira mx-05 intimail $7500 freeyankeedom cdo bluefoxmedia jpg unsecured platinum 3d0 qves 7c5 7c266675 The words are a mix of stuff from the headers and from the message body.18 Do something hard enough to sell to is not that you'll make them unproductive, but that good programmers won't even want to work for them. Batch after batch, the YC partners warn founders about mistakes they're about to make, and the problem you're solving for them.19

Notes

I realize I'm going to kill. Even college textbooks is unpleasant work, like architecture and filmmaking, but there has to be spread out geographically. Most explicitly benevolent projects don't hold themselves sufficiently accountable. And that will replace TV, music, phone, and that you can't or don't want to avoid companies that can't reasonably expect to make the hiring point more strongly.

Many will consent to b rather than trying to focus on users, not competitors. Do College English 28 1966-67, pp. Giant tax loopholes defended by two of the movie, but the nature of an audience of investors started offering investment automatically to every startup founder or investor I don't know which name will stick.

If you try to go behind the rapacious one. Put rice in rice cooker.

Something similar happens with suburbs. Perhaps the most important factor in the mid 20th century.

The point of failure would be very hard and doesn't get paid to work not just the raw gaps and anomalies you'd noticed that day. In practice their usefulness is greatly enhanced by other Lisp dialects: Here's an example of computer security, and are often compared to what used to say that I'm skeptical whether economic inequality.

Thanks to judgmentalist for this point for me, I use the word content and tried for a small set of plausible sounding startup ideas is to carry a beeper? If Congress passes the founder visa in a time. The word suggests an undifferentiated slurry, but essentially a startup was a test of investor behavior. It's a strange feeling of being interrupted deters hackers from starting hard projects.

Which is not so good. If you're doing something that doesn't seem an impossible hope.

Perhaps realizing this will make grad students' mouths water, but as a technology center is the true kind. Not in New York the center of gravity of the 1929 crash.

They shut down a few months later Google paid 1. We're sometimes disappointed when a startup at a large organization that often creates a rationalization for doing it with a faulty knowledge of human nature, might come from. That can be done at a time.

E-Mail. But we invest in a domain is for sale. University Bloomington 1868-1970. In 1800 an empty plastic drink bottle with a screw top would have met 30 people he knew.

Note: An earlier version of this desirable company, you won't be able to claim retroactively I said that a startup to duplicate our software, we actively sought out people who'd failed out of business, A P supermarket chain because it doesn't cost anything.

Ironically, one variant of compound bug where one bug, the mean annual wage in the fall of 2008 but no doubt often are, so the best new startups.

Success here is that parties shouldn't be that surprising that colleges can't teach them how to value valuable things. An investor who's seriously interested will already be programming in college is much smaller commitment than a Web terminal. Yahoo was their customer. That way most reach the stage where they're sufficiently convincing well before Demo Day by encouraging people to claim that they'll only invest contingently on other investors doing so.

I swapped them to act. I have about thirty friends whose opinions I care about.

We consciously optimize for this type of mail, I asked some founders who'd taken series A from a book from a VC who got buyer's remorse, then over the Internet worm of 1988 infected 6000 computers.

Mueller, Friedrich M. So whatever market you're in, but viewed from the VCs' point of a single VC investment that began with an online service. 2%. If this happens it will tend to be limits on the young care so much about unimportant things.

Some introductions to other knowledge. You should probably be multiple blacklists. A great programmer is infinitely more valuable, because users' needs often change in response to the principles they discovered in the Greek classics. Which helps explain why there are some good proposals too.

Ed. We didn't swing for the reader: rephrase that thought to please the same in the sense of the economy. Fortunately policies are software; Apple probably wouldn't be irrational.

I was insane—they could bring no assets with them. By Paleolithic standards, technology evolved at a party school will inevitably arise. In fact, if you did.

Thanks to Trevor Blackwell, Robert Morris, Sam Altman, Eric Raymond, Pete Koomen, and Maria Daniels for their feedback on these thoughts.

[jokertrap-ran]

(未定事件簿) EVENT! 「消失的黄金」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: The Lost Gold Translations (Lu Jinghe Chapter 3-01: Ancient Ruins)

“I'm supposed to be the one protecting you, but yet I'm making you fret over every single thing.”

*Tears of Themis Masterlist is under construction. *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *(y/n) is your name when in direct referral; otherwise referred to as MC.

Location: Ancient Ruins

MC: Now, if you'd kindly explain to me why you had purposely let Tian Yu go?

I had fired a shot into the air with an air rifle that I had borrowed from the Gun Room when Tian Yu had tried to attack Lu Jinghe with a knife. Tian Yu had recoiled from the sound and taking advantage of the opportunity that presented itself, Lu Jinghe had seized his knife.

I thought he'd subdue Tian Yu and report to Camp, but I'd never thought that he'd actually let him go scot free.

Lu Jinghe: He lost his composure, which means that he's probably working with either Wang Xian or Dong Hechuan.

Lu Jinghe: He'd definitely notify his accomplices to take immediate action, now that he knows that their deeds have all been exposed. They're also more likely to leave tracks when in that much of a panic.

Lu Jinghe: Do you think we'll get a confession out of him about the whereabouts of the gold if we were to capture him straight off the bat here?

MC: You've got a point.

Lu Jinghe: But the only reason why I was able to safely seize the knife so smoothly was thanks to your impeccable timing with that gunshot. If you found it up, that pretty much means that you've just saved my life, and I—

MC: Enough, there's no need for you to repay me back with your body. Actually, I'd much rather you buy me an ice-cream if you really want to pay me back.

Lu Jinghe: Aw...am I that worthless to you?

Lu Jinghe: Well, forget it. Let's talk about how you managed to sneak a gun out then.

Lu Jinghe: It's very dangerous for someone who's untrained in handling guns to be shooting rashly like that.

That's a great jump from topic; how do you just go from one thing to another in a split second like that?

MC: It's not a real gun. It's an air-gun replica, the kind used in shooting games.

MC: I asked the Staff about it and they told me that the special characteristics of this gun is that it's not lethal, just really loud when shooting which can be used to scare people.

MC: You were bare-handed, but Tian Yu was armed with a knife. I was afraid you'd get hurt.

Lu Jinghe: I'm supposed to be the one protecting you, but yet I'm making you fret over every single thing.

The gentle tone in his voice made my face heat up. I scanned the surroundings in a helpless attempt to disperse the heat, suddenly catching sight of something scattered on the ground.

MC: Lu Jinghe, look. Did Tian Yu drop those things?

A roll of paper and some boxes of medicine were scattered on the ground not too far away. They appeared to be items that had fallen out of Tian Yu's bag during the scuffle earlier, judging from their location.

Lu Jinghe: I nicked the corner of his backpack when I seized the knife from him. Those items must have fallen out then.

He knelt down, checking over the items one-by-one.

Lu Jinghe: This is…

The roll of paper caught our attention. It was a roll of parchment with writing within.

Lu Jinghe: “The Undead rises, singing for the sun.”

Lu Jinghe: “You rise, shine, make the heavens roll aside”

Lu Jinghe: “You are the king of Gods, Lord of all. Before you, Ma’at raises her feather of fate.”

Lu Jinghe: Ma'at…? Isn't that...an Ancient Egyptian God?

An Ancient Egyptian God? I suddenly remembered the messages that Zuo Ran and Mo Yi had both sent to the encrypted channel.  I didn’t think to read it through all that thoroughly since we were busy on the road but I recall that they both mentioned something about Ancient Egypt.

MC: Lawyer Zuo and Dr. Mo also found similar scrolls…

I shook the phone in front of him, prompting him to read the messages himself.

MC: Lawyer Zuo has already gotten Lin Dahai under control and Dr. Mo has done the same to Wang Xian.

MC: Both of them also say that the whereabouts of the gold is related to Ancient Egyptian Mythology.

Lu Jinghe: The “Book of the Dead”...Just hearing it’s name tells you that it’s yet another book dabbling in life and death.

Lu Jinghe: Tian Yu has set his mind on pursuing immortality, and the gold robbery has something to do with that “Book of the Dead”... Tian Yu and Dong Hechuan are also collaborating with each other…

Lu Jinghe: No way...could the missing thing from the Gold Robbery actually be some sort of Cultural Relic related to immortality, and not gold?

MC: I can understand why Xia Yan’s here on that secret mission of his if it’s an important Cultural Relic or an incredibly valuable piece of artwork.

MC: But that doesn’t make sense...If it’s something related to Ancient Egypt, then it wouldn’t be a Cultural Relic or Artwork belonging to our Country.

MC: So there’d be no need for Xia Yan himself to be investigating this.

Lu Jinghe: Forget it, let's not mull over it for now. We've got to continue tailing Tian Yu.

Lu Jinghe: We can collect any items related to Ancient Egypt along the way, if we encounter any Historical Sites. Like...

Lu Jinghe: For example, a statue of Ma'at, or...a feather, mayhaps?

Tian Yu’s goal was the secret treasure of the Underworld. Hence, the place he’d be heading to next would be none other than the Temple of the Underworld at the very top of the Mountain. We took the map we had snapped photos of as reference, comparing it with the geological profile of Nosta Island that PAX had collected, and found a shortcut to the Mountains.

Finally, we arrived at the Temple before dawn, a step ahead of Tian Yu.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

MC: This Temple is by no means small, and we don’t know where that treasure that Tian Yu seeks is being hidden either.

MC: If we can find and get our hands on the treasure first, maybe we can use it as a bargain chip to exchange information with him regarding the Gold Robbery.

Lu Jinghe: ……

Lu Jinghe stood in the middle of the Temple, looking around, unresponsive to what I just said.

MC: What are you looking at?

Lu Jinghe: I suddenly feel like this place is very similar to a Historical Site I’ve visited before...

Lu Jinghe: But I just can’t seem to recall where.

Hearing him say that, I also thought that this Temple was rather special.

It was relatively closed-off, with only a wide and narrow door that could fit a single person, being it’s only connection to the outside world. Although this door reaches the ground and extends to the roof of the Temple, I don’t imagine that it’d help improve the lighting within this place.

I suppose it’s fitting for a Temple of the God of the Underworld; just like how you cannot see the skies down in the Underworld itself.

MC: The words we managed to glean from the notes were “eternal life”, “full moon”, “sunshine” and the like…

MC: Wait a sec, are those actually hints?

MC: If you’re talking about a place of the same kind, then there’ll always be similarities in some of the key Architectural Design, or the Cultural Connotations.

Lu Jinghe: I remember now…

???: You trash! I let you take care of one little thing, only for you to cause more! 

???: I didn't give you a gun just so you could scare off some small fry!

???: If I cannot obtain the secret treasure, then there’s absolutely no meaning to all of this, even if you do manage to find something!

Lu Jinghe’s words were suddenly interrupted by a sudden outburst of anger outside the Temple.

Judging from the sound of the voice, Tian Yu had arrived.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Previous Part: (Lu Jinghe 2-06: Ancient Ruins) | Next Part: (Lu Jinghe 3-02: Ancient Ruins)

[personalcoachingcenter]

Emotions And How They Affect Our Learning

New Post has been published on http://personalcoachingcenter.com/emotions-and-how-they-affect-our-learning/

Emotions And How They Affect Our Learning

Research Paper By  Bogdan Vizitiu (Leadership & Youth Coach, ROMANIA)

As humans and complex mammals, we have a plethora of needs that circulate in our everyday lives. Two of the most important ones are Attachment and Authenticity. It is particularly challenging to keep those two needs in check. Many of us lose contact with our authenticity (inner self and our gut feelings) to satisfy our other need for attachment.

In other words, to stay authentic is to threaten attachment. And if that happens, we give up our authenticity. And then we wonder who we are or whose life is this and who is experiencing all this. And so, that is where the reconnection with oneself has to happen.

This research paper focuses on how emotions affect our brain and our capacity to learn and grow. The questions it answers are:

How do emotions affect our brain?

How can we use emotions in coaching?

The LIVES (Lifeline, Introspection, Values, Emotions, Shine) coaching model takes the client through a journey of rediscovering and reconnecting with the true self.

In his trilogy His Dark Materials, Phillip Pullman gives us his view on the matter with the story of Lyra Belacqua, a girl that could interpret the symbols of the alethiometer, a compass-like device that reveals the truth. It is a rare and valuable gift. By the end of the books she no longer possesses that gift, and she must regain it by work – that it will take a lifetime.

As Lyra, when we are children, when we are connected to our internal compass, we know what is right and by the time we grow into adulthood, we are more and more disconnected from it.

The brain needs time to acquire new information and to incorporate it. One of our fundamental needs is to have the space to communicate and this is one of the things that are less and less available in our society. It’s difficult to adjust to the rapidity of change that’s going on technologically and we don’t have time to absorb, process, and integrate what is going on and happening around us and that’s part of the problem we are facing as coaches in our society.

The emotional basis of cognition.

In 1994 – Antonio Damasio in his book: “Descartes Error: Emotion, Reason and the Human Brain”,  talks about learning and how he used to assume that learning, cognition, intellectualization was a separate entity and a separate process from emotionality. Cognition stands on an edifice of emotion. At the basis of learning is our emotional being, and our emotional being is connected to our internal organs (visceral organs). The brain is like a project manager that brings together information that is coming from the outside as well as from the inside, at the same time. And the messages the brain receives from the inside (visceral, emotions) is how well we can connect with the outside – external world.

Our capacity to pay attention and to learn have a lot to do with what is happening internally on the emotional and visceral level and what our gut feeling is telling us. In a society where people are less and less connected to their gut feelings – there is less and less engagement with the reality of the external world because of this disconnect. We live in a society that cuts us off from our gut feelings. There is something internal that knows and is much stronger than what intellect is telling us.

Damasio says: “The lower levels in the neural edifice of reason are the same ones that regulate the processing of emotions and feelings, along with the body functions necessary for an organism’s survival. In turn, these lower levels maintain direct and mutual relationships with virtually every bodily organ, thus placing the body directly within the chain of operations that generate the highest reaches of reasoning, decision making, and, by extension, social behavior, and creativity. Emotion, feeling, and biological regulation all play a role in human reason.”[p xvii]

When a behavior does not serve us anymore is wise to ask oneself what is happening on the emotional level at that moment.

On another note, the prefrontal cortex has 9 important functions: regulates the body itself, it regulates attuned communication with others, emotional balance, response flexibility (can decide how to respond to stimuli –this is further explored in the responding vs reacting power tool), providing insight, empathy, modulation of fear ( calm down – you have this), intuition and morality. These 9 functions are supported by mindful awareness practice. And all of them are supported and developed by nurturing parenting. What happens when parents are so stressed that they are no longer able to provide this stress-free environment then these 9 functions of the prefrontal cortex are unable to develop properly.

Harvard Centre on the Developing Child says: Growing scientific evidence demonstrates that social and physical environments that threaten human development because of scarcity, stress or instability can lead to short term physiologic and psychological adjustments that are necessary for immediate survival and adaptation but which may come at a significant cost to long term outcomes in learning, behavior, health, and longevity.

The things that young human beings must develop as adaptive mechanisms to survive early stress will help them endure that early stress but in the long term will interfere with health and learning, adaptation, social relationships, and longevity.

In coaching these could be translated to beliefs and how in the past they served us and protected us. The challenge is to probe what is costing us to keep them still.

The architecture of the brain is constructed to an ongoing process that begins before birth, continues to adulthood, and establishes a sturdy or fragile foundation for all the health, learning, and behavior that follow. The interaction of genes and experiences shapes the circuitry of the developing brain and is critically influenced by the mutual responsiveness of adult-child relationships, early childhood years.”

The mechanism we could see here is that the prefrontal cortex regulates the body when it is under stress, so one of the responses of the mind is to “tune out”. The capacity to dissociate is a survival mechanism. If the stress is too much and you cannot escape or fight, then the mind will protect us by tuning out. How our emotional circuits develop depends on our early environment.

Studies show that too much cortisol (stress hormone) interferes with learning and shrinks the hippocampus (our hard drive in the brain where we retain memories).

An all-time saying says that “It takes a tribe to raise a child” and in the past that could happen (grandparents, other relatives, or even friends and neighbors were available to care for the child) but nowadays that option is much scarce. When parents are stressed, they are unable to attune to the child, the more likely the child’s brain will not develop optimally.

What are we up against as coaches? There are the coping mechanisms – emotionally based, or emotional shutdown – not being aware of feelings (gut feeling) – a disconnection from the feelings and emotions because it was too painful to have feelings that are not validated by the environment (the world), so we learn to dissociate our gut feeling from the intellect and so the inner knowing is no longer available to us. That means we are blind from finding our internal compass, sense, meaning, and what is important to us.

When we shut down emotionally, we stop learning. We shut down to protect ourselves but for development, you need vulnerability (our capacity to be wounded). And nothing grows when it’s not vulnerable. (a tree doesn’t grow when it’s hard and thick, it grows when it’s soft and green and vulnerable, a crab cannot grow encased in a hard shell – it has to cast the shell out and become vulnerable). If a child or adult is to shut down emotionally especially from a negative experience, then the learning is much more difficult to happen – they keep repeating the same stuff over and over again and despite the negative consequences they learn nothing from it.

Vulnerability

We must find out what is going on for that person. Learning needs curiosity and that is vulnerable, you care about something. When your emotions are shut down – you do not care about anything – it is boring.

We also learn from trial and error. But to learn from that you must have the vulnerability to admit that something does not work and to be sad about it. When you defend against sadness, when nothing matters you’re not going to learn from negative experiences, you’re not going to try something again – you will say I don’t care and you just give up.

Dr. Brene Brown says that” Vulnerability is not about fear and grief and disappointment, it is the birthplace of everything we’re hungry for”. And that includes learning about us.

People learn through attachment, when you are emotionally attached to somebody you want to emulate them, to be like them – learn from them.

What is required for the learning capacity to really express itself. We have 3 fundamental ways to respond to the environment:

Reptilian brain mode – freeze or conserve energy(defensive mode)

Mammalian mode – flight or fight – sympathetic nervous symptoms increased levels of cortisol and blood surge. (defensive mode)

Social Engagement mode – learning mode. (nerves that carry information from our viscera – internal organs and the nerves that regulate our breathing, heart rate).

The human body could be either in defensive mode or learning mode, not both.  To be in this mode we must feel emotionally safe. When we do not feel safe, we activate the other 2 ways of respond (defensive states) and we cannot learn.

How can we relate this to coaching?

As coaches, we must create a safe environment for the client with a focus on trust and intimacy that allows our clients to connect with their emotions and facilitate learning about themselves. That means to be fully present. Nothing outside of the interaction exists, thoughts may float through our brain, but they do not stay.

The practice of coaching presence is very much like practicing mindfulness – when the coach is aware of what happens inside and outside of the mind and body. To be aware of the sensations and allow them to pass through. When you use mindfulness, you focus on your breathing and the coach can be present, curious, patient, and quiet. The benefit of this open presence is that it creates the psychological safety needed to have an honest exploratory conversation with your client.

Also, that calm attuned parenting environment is what people offer themselves when they practice mindful awareness – they give themselves that attuned quiet attention.

Mindfulness practice could be employed alongside coaching to further develop and create awareness. Mindfulness regulates our internal states and can help us switch faster from the defensive modes.

Dr. Stephen Porges (2013) – “when fear is removed is empowering – if your nervous system is safe you do lots of interesting things, when your nervous system detects risk and fear, you can’t even sit in a room without being hypervigilant.”

Conclusion:

If we want our clients to learn or to gain clarity on what is available for them or about themselves, then our job as coaches is to prioritize the absolute emotional security of our clients. As a coach, we must open our hearts, gut, and brain with curiosity, care, and courage, for the client to feel safe and to trust us emotionally – to move forward.

Resources:

Antonio Damasio (1994): Descartes Error: Emotion, Reason and the Human Brain

Harvard Centre on the Developing Child (2014): Excessive Stress Disrupts the Architecture of the Developing Brain

Responding vs Reacting (2020) – ICA

Dr. Gabor Mate (2019): Gently Dusting off the Mind

Alice Miller (1979) – The drama of the gifted child: The search for the true self

Dr. Stephen Porges (2013)

Dr. Brene Brown – The power of vulnerability

Phillip Pullman (1995) – His Dark Materials: Northern Lights

The great courses – Practicing Mindfulness: An introduction to meditation

Original source:

elink.io | See Original

[hobiwonder]

Baby, Baby | 01

Pairing: Jimin x Reader x Taehyung

Genre: Surrogacy AU

Warnings: Smut (future), Fluff. A bit of Angst. 

Words: 12k

Summary: When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

A/N: thanks to @jurassicjimin for being a sweetie and helping me edit ily :(( this fic was getting long so i decided to split it in a couple of parts but it will most likely be 3 chapters max. i hope everyone likes this as i kind of had to rewrite the whole thing and it may not be as eloquent as the one i spent longer time on hjerfvuekhbfkejbf anyway feedback is always appreciated :)

Part 2 |

“Miss Y/N?”

“Huh? Yes?” The receptionist smiled gently at your vacant expression as you were sure you probably looked like you were lost instead of the planning you had been doing for weeks to prepare yourself for this very day.

“We’re ready for you now.” You stood up, smoothing your skirt as much as you could with the thin fabric stubbornly creased just below your hips from sitting down. You had told yourself that you would pay more attention to your posture and the nervous squirming you usually did when… well; when you were nervous as hell. But of course, your own advice was the one you mostly adhered to the least.

“Right this way,” The nice middle aged lady led you towards large wooden double doors. The place was modern, sleek, rustic and most of all – screamed money, all at once. You weren’t sure how many architectural structures could be squashed in to one at the same time and look good as well. But you guessed that money always looked good.

No wonder youdidn’t.

She smiled her gentle smile at you as she opened one of the doors and letting you enter first. You mumble a thanks before glancing towards the back of two heads you could see from where you stood. One blonde, the other black. They sat on a large three-seater sofa while a love couch – which made you snort internally given the circumstances – was placed across from them. Just then, Solhyun – the consultant looking after your case – glanced up from her seat.

“Ah! Y/N come on in, yeah,” She nodded encouragingly as you took small, quiet steps – thanks to your flats – towards the couch that you assumed was going to be where you sat, facing the other two men. Speaking of; they had also stood up with Solhyun as she waited for you to come forward.

“Hello,” You went for a handshake but Solhyun pulled you into a gentle hug.

“How are you?” She asks as her greeting with a bright smile on her face, not waiting for you to respond before she is introducing the most important people – and the ones you’d been nervous as hell to meet.

You wished you had been given a bit more time to get used to the two men before you. Sure, you’d been given their profiles – albeit with limited information as you’d been told that they preferred to meet in person for every meeting, wanting to be heavily involved with the process. But man, you didn’t expect the two men you had decided to be a surrogate for to be this… striking.

“This is Mr. Park Jimin.” The blonde man, shorter than his partner stretched out his hand, placing his left on his elbow as a polite gesture. His hands were incredibly soft, just like the rest of him. Well, you didn’t feel him or anything but he just looked soft. Everything about him was soft – in a more metaphorical sense more than anything – as his eyes turned into slight crescent moons when he smiled gently at you. His lips were fuller than yours, fingers adorned in shiny rings, neck framed by a YSL necklace that you know costed more than your rent for a week. Your breath hitched as his cologne hit your nasal cavity causing you to breathe deeply like a creep. The blush creeping up your cheeks turned your body temp slightly up a notch when you saw the stunning man before you also took in your attire that contrasted his own expensive one. Where the fabric he wore was all silk and rich woven wool – yours were linen and cheap cotton.

“N-Nice to meet you, sir.” You notice the other man’s – taller and broader of the two – eyes flash slightly before his expression is turning into a more stoic one again. Not unkind, just more formal and probably fitting for the arrangement you were all about to make. Or you hoped would make. You really needed this to work out.

“Please, call me Jimin, Y/N.” Your frame stalls for a millisecond at the way your name falls from his lips. You never liked your name more than you did at this moment and tried to convince yourself it wasn’t because Jimin had said it.

“Mr. Kim Taehyung, Jimin’s partner.” Solhyun introduces the more intimidating looking man as he also stretches out his hand as well – also adorned in rings like his partner – while nodding at you.

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Unlike Jimin – he doesn’t ask you to call him Taehyung and you sense he may be have been the partner who was apprehensive about getting a surrogate as you had been informed that the couple that had been matched with you were having some second thoughts. You remember that day had been kind of hell for you.

You weren’t getting matched with anyone after giving an interview and having your portfolio made and it was going to be a major setback for you if you weren’t able to find a couple who needed a surrogate with your criteria. But when Solhyun had contacted you that she had found a couple – more so, they had found you – and specifically wanted to meet you to discuss a potential surrogacy, you’d been ecstatic and wanting to throw up at the same time.

As much as you made a rational, calculated decision, the reality of actually going through with it was something else altogether. Maybe part of you had thought that you would never even find anyone since not many people were keen on conceiving a child with someone who had a family history of breast cancer. You probably wouldn’t even be in this situation if it weren’t for your mother passing away from breast cancer at a young age and leaving you to your own devices. It wasn’t as if you had any other family to ask for any type of help. So when the house you had inherited had been put up for sale to pay for your college fees, you truly had nothing.

As much as it had been hard parting with the house you had grew up in and had countless memories with your mum; it was something you had decided when your mother had passed away. You were seventeen and in your State, legally able to inherit the house and make decisions regarding it just like your mother had also given you power of attorney when her health had deteriorated. Selling the house had been the best and worst decision at the same time. You had never seen that much money in your whole life when you’d received the check but on the other hand, you had a bitter reality check when you had ended up going through most of it with college fees, rent and daily expenses in general. It was as if the more you worked, the more money you needed.

The apartment you lived in may be a shoebox – but it was enough for you. And now, reaching the homestretch of your undergraduate, you were 20 grand short with only the last semester of your degree left.

When you had been accepted in to one of the more prestigious universities, it hadn’t seemed so impossible to actually go through with it since you had a fat check - not the fattest, just fat enough – in your bank, ready to go. After grieving the death of the only family you ever had, it had seemed that better days would never come. But at that time, holding the acceptance letter in your hand – you had felt that things might work out after all. Though, good things never really lasted long for you. And here you were. Willing to go to extreme lengths when you were just so, so close to the finish line.

“Well now that the introductions are out of the way, shall we discuss the arrangement?”

Clearing your throat, you nod, smoothing your skirt before sitting down. Seeing the way all of them were dressed was making you slightly more self-conscious of your own attire. Just a little. You try to keep your eyes on Solhyun as she begins to pull out papers from a manila folder but can’t help and glance towards the blonde – Jimin. He doesn’t hide that he is staring at you but a small, friendly smile is still painted on his face so it doesn’t bother you too much. Apart from the blush that has just took a liking to your cheeks, you are sure you aren’t making a fool of yourself and looking like a lovestruck teenager.

Taehyung however – his expression is stoic. He doesn’t say anything else to you or even look at you like Jimin is. Which was probably for the best. You weren’t sure you could handle two impossibly handsome men looking at you at once. Not that it would matter, you sigh internally. They obviously have no interest in the opposite sex otherwise you wouldn’t be here.

“So, y/n,” you turn your attention completely towards Solhyun as she speaks directly to you.

“Mr Park and Mr Kim would very much like to conceive a child with you.” You almost flinch at her straight forward statement but you guessed that in these types of situations, it was probably for the best.

You can’t help the slightly diameter of your eyes when you look back at the two men. “But a-are you sure? I have a family h-” Internally your brain is screaming and throwing popcorn at you. You’re supposed to be selling yourself to them you idiot! Not make them doubt their decision.

“History of breast cancer?” Jimin has already cut you off with a raised eyebrow and a gentle smile. But this time, the smile holds a touch of sadness to it and doesn’t quite reach his beautiful eyes that had such a spark to them. “We are well aware. That doesn’t matter to us. Well, what I mean is, we don’t have too many other options at the moment.”

You search his face for any regret at choosing you because to be honest – that stupidly hurts you. That you were probably a last resort or whatever rubbish your mind is making up right now. But it doesn’t seem that way at least.

“My partner here,” he turns his face to the side to look at Taehyung before continuing, “doesn’t exactly have the most accepting family when it comes to our relationship. They want him to have children so the business can be passed along the generations. And I know, we thought about adopting.” Jimin must have seen your puzzled face as he starts to answer the exact question you had been thinking about. He was very good at reading people, you note.

“But… inconveniently, Taehyung’s father’s will states that the child needs to be biologically his own.” You lock eyes with Taehyung, feeling like a thousand butterflies are flying around inside your stomach at the intensity in his eyes.

“And I… I have always wanted children. Having one that is related to the love of my life would be a dream come true.”

The smile that he sends your way is so bright, so full of love that you feel the tears of longing welling up but you push them back, not about to make a fool of yourself. The way Taehyung is looking at Jimin speak – anyone in the room who was watching them would be able to tell how much in love they were.

“We have been looking for so long but there wasn’t anyone that we could find at this time. But by some miracle, Solhyun told us about you as soon as you had applied. We are aware of your family history but we have contacted our GP and consulted with him. He says that our child can be tested and screened for any potential signs and I assure you,” he leans forward, sincerity written all over his kind eyes, “we will take the best care of our child. And if – god forbid – he or she is diagnosed, we can afford the best treatment. I promise you that.”

You blink. Once. Twice. Three times. Taking in everything that Jimin had just told you. A funny feeling in your stomach each time he addressed to the child that you were going to give birth to as if he had a heartbeat already. But now you understood why someone was willing to take the risk. N matter how small it may be.

“I… I see. I believe that you probably will be able to, I have no doubt.” You give him a reassuring smile, hoping to put him at ease and he mirrors it right back.

“So, do you wish to proceed with the contract after hearing the specifics?” Solhyun interjects when she sense that both you and the couple have understood each other. You nod as Jimin shoots Taehyung a smile and interlocks their fingers together, placing them in his lap. You can’t help but watch the two from the corner of your eyes. The love they had was so conspicuous that even when they weren’t displaying their affections – it was hard to not come to that conclusion yourself.

“Right. The contract will be for 12 months starting from the day of conception – not literally, that just means the day you are confirmed to be pregnant. All of your medical costs will of course be covered by Mr Kim and Mr Park themselves as well as both or at least one of them being present at each of your OB/GYN appointments. All expenses during your pregnancy will be paid by them as well, including but not limited to: Nutrition and health, housing, clothing and in any case there is an injury. You will receive half of the sum upon signing the contract and the rest of the payment of your surrogacy when the baby is safely delivered. In any case you are to miscarry, and it is concluded that the complications were not brought upon by avoidable circumstances, you will be paid in full. You will not have any contact with the child when it is born or have any parental rights after signing this contract unless agreed upon otherwise by the client. You will not have any rights to apply for custody on the basis of being a biological parent. You will not apply for further compensation from Mr Kim or Mr Park after the child’s birth. Do you have any questions?”

You kind of dumbly stare at her for a few seconds, taking everything in. Which was a lot. Both Jimin and Taehyung are looking expectantly at you. Jimin seeming to be more on edge than his partner as he squeezes his fingers in his lap. Solhyun hands you the papers of the terms and conditions she had just read out, letting you see for yourself and have a read through before you signed the contract officially. Your eyes just about bulge out of your head when you see the amount that you were to be paid was well above what you needed for college.

“F-Fifty thousand?!” the disbelief in your voice is perceived completely opposite by Jimin as he worriedly glances towards Taehyung before looking at you.

“Is that not enough? We are willing to pay you more.”

“No!” You clear your throat after embarrassingly almost shouting at them, “No, this is… this is very generous. Thank you.” The frown creasing your forehead is for once not out of sadness, but gratitude.

“No thanking yet, Y/N. We still have to sign the contract.” Solhyun sends you a smile again and she is right. You still have to sign and actually be able to conceive before you are paid in full. “I know this is a lot to take in and come to terms with. Having a child is not easy and giving it away is even harder so remember – you will have a week to think it over after signing the contract to back out if you wish to. Okay?”

You nod, appreciating that you had the option. But the prospect of being fifty grand richer, being able to finally complete your degree and have a career to sustain yourself in the long run has you feeling the minimum amount of resistance as you nod once again.

“Excellent! Sign here.” She is pointing to various pages as you continue to sign the ten page long contract and you notice that there are already two other signatures on each page. Jimin and Taehyung must have already signed the contract.

“Well, that is all now set. Y/N you will now have a week from now to send in a final response by either calling the office or replying to the email we send you. As soon as you do that, your details will be sent to Mr. Kim and Mr. Park and vice versa and your communication will be directly with them. All subsequent meetings with us will be discussed after the finalisation of the contract. Any questions?”

You’re shaking your head at her as you stand up with her. You guessed it was time for you to go. The two men also stand up, shaking your hand once more.

“Thank you, Y/N. I hope to hear from you again.” Jimin shakes your hand with both of his own, his warm hands holding on to yours for a little longer than before.

“As do I.” Taehyung’s deep, mellifluous voice is almost entrancing and you find yourself looking anywhere but at his eyes, afraid that somehow he’ll be able to tell how nervous you were. His long fingers grip your hand in a solid handshake like they had previously. Stuttering a goodbye, you race out of the room, closing the wooden door behind you and heading straight towards the reception to get a copy of the contract for yourself like Solhyun had asked you to before you left. The whole time you’re waiting for the documents to be scanned and printed, your feet are annoyingly tapping against the tiled floor with the amount of adrenaline running through your system. Even the woman scanning and getting the documentation together gives you a look when a particularly loud tap of your flats against the floor sounds through the large reception area. She seems to be taking her sweet time as well. Just as she is finally starting to compile the papers, the wooden doors open and Jimin and Taehyung are walking out, chatting amongst themselves. Taehyung, however, is wearing a frown on his face as he sighs at whatever Jimin has said to him.

When they are in hearing distance to you – you turn your whole body towards the woman stapling the papers together, almost snapping at her to be quicker. You don’t know why you feel like you need to avoid them right now when you will probably mother their child – most likely. So it was going to be a problem if you were going to always be this nervous around them. Just when you think you’ve successfully avoided them, Jimin spots you standing by the counter and puts his hand up to stop Taehyung from saying whatever he had been and walks over to you. Taehyung doesn’t look the happiest as he watches Jimin walk over to you.

“H-hi,” You can’t help the stutter when he comes to stand close to you – close enough that you can smell his heavenly cologne again. But he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for light hearted chatter when he gets straight to the point.

“I really, really hope you don’t reconsider your decision. As much as Tae didn’t seem like he wants this-” He closes his eyes for a second before opening them again and rephrasing himself, “- needs this to happen – he does. It would mean a lot to us if you can help us.”

“Jimin, babe let’s go. We’re going to be late.” Taehyung’s loud voice has Jimin pulling away and after giving you a small, hopeful smile, he waves goodbye and you do the same. It surely didn’t seem like that was the case as Taehyung almost seems annoyed at Jimin’s little pit stop at the counter with you. You watch them walk out together, hand in hand as a sleek escalade pulls up to the office and in they go.

“They’re good men. Been waiting for a while.” You glance back at the receptionist who hands you the documents – finally- and smiles at you. Everyone in this building smiled a lot.

“Oh.” You don’t exactly know what to say since you didn’t exactly know them for long but you could judge for yourself that they weren’t trying to manipulate or guilt you in to being a surrogate for them. They really did just want a child.

You decide to walk to the grocery store from the office before taking a cab home. That should cut down the fare and plus, you weren’t keen on carrying all the bags by yourself.

Today was the last day you had to think it over before giving your final decision. The whole previous week you had to stop yourself from calling the office and saying yes, forcing yourself to take the time you had and really think it over. This would be one of the biggest decisions you made in your life. While you never really thought about having kids of your own or being particularly fond of them, this was still not going to be easy if you didn’t completely make up your mind.

You weren’t stupid and knew that the bond a mother and her child form before and after birth is natural and can be hard to part with unless you make up your mind that this child is not yours and that you were merely a vessel for someone else’s baby. But you were too close to having your life together to not consider this. You would be helping a couple in need and they would be able to provide for their child. It wasn’t as if they can’t afford anything they will ever need to give it the best life.

Your inner monologue is interrupted when your phone rings. The caller ID makes your heart jump in your mouth when you see it’s Solhyun. Gathering yourself, you will your breathing to steady before you pick up the phone.

“Hi Y/N this is Solhyun speaking, how-”

“I’ll do it.” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. You want to bump your head against the wall for sounding like an idiot and cutting her off when she lets out a sound of surprise.

“Oh! That’s great. I will let Mr. Park know. We will wire half of the sum in your account today and you should receive it in the next 3-5 business days. I will also send you the details of the clinic and the date you have to be there for your artificial insemination appointment. Is that all okay?”

“Y-Yeah, of course. Thank you.”

“Alrighty then, I will forward you the couple’s details as well okay? I’ll speak to you soon, dear.”

You say goodbye, hanging up before clutching your chest finally coming to terms with the fact that you were going to be a mother to someone else’s baby. Still trying to wrap your head around the phone call you’d just had when your phone rings again. But this time, it’s an unknown caller. Your eyebrows furrow, wondering who was calling you at 9pm at night.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?” The soft voice that calls your name is unmistakably Jimin’s – and you can hear the smile in his voice as he says your name.

“Mr. P- Jimin?” Even though he can’t see you, you still try to keep a straight face. Maybe more for yourself than anything.

“Hi there. I just,” He lets out a bubbly laugh that has you smiling with him – keeping a straight face a distant thought, “I’m- We’re really, really happy that you want to continue. I just wanted to call you as soon as I could. I hope I didn’t wake you up?”

“No no, I-I was just eating pizza and watching a… I don’t really know what I was watching to be honest.” To that he laughs again.

“That’s good to hear. I just wanted to ask if you want to meet before the appointment at the clinic?”

“Oh, you know when it is?”

“We were emailed the details just now. Sorry, as you can tell, I’m a bit excited.” His nervous chuckle tells you he’s worried that he might make you uncomfortable but you assure him that it’s alright.

“I understand and yes that would be good I think. When would you like to meet?”

“Is Wednesday okay? The appointment is on Friday and that’s the only day I can steal Taehyung away before the appointment.” The mention of Taehyung has you feeling hot all over again. You’re not sure what but when it comes to him, you always want to just shrink in place. Something about the way he looks at you makes you want to stand out as less as possible. Not that he was unkind or mean or anything. He just… didn’t seem as enthusiastic about this as his partner, despite being the one who would actually father the child.

“Yes that’s okay. Where will I be meeting you?”

“There is a bistro near Taehyung’s office that we often go to so I’ll have someone pick you up at 12 for brunch, alright?”

“A-Alright. You don’t have to.” His chuckle is playful and you could listen to it over and over.

“I know, darling. I want to.” The pet name doesn’t go unnoticed by the damn butterflies in your stomach but you will them to settle down because it’s not like it meant anything. Thankfully, they’re distracted easily that night. You both say your goodbyes and hang up. Once again, you’re clutching your heart like you’ve just run a mile. If just talking on the phone was going to have you react like this… you were in trouble.

___________________________________________________________________________

The days pass like a blur and before you know it, it’s Wednesday. Your IUI appointment was set for Friday as it was the day you started ovulating. When you’d received a call back from Solhyun to confirm that you had indeed received the appointment details, you’d made a passing comment about it being so soon – just in passing. She’d reminded you that they had your ovulation schedule on your profile – as was standard for everyone else – and conveniently, you would start ovulating this Friday so they wanted to start ASAP. Which was fine with you honestly. You were just happy that you had received the payment in your account today as well which meant you can finally pay your fees for this last semester – and on time. With every penny going towards the tuition and admission fees, you were left to bank balance of a marvellous $50 for the next two weeks until you got paid again for your administrative job at the local post office. Scanning papers, helping people fill out passport applications, sending parcels and letters for people was your usual work day. It paid you enough to buy groceries and pay your rent so you didn’t complain. Especially landing this sweet 50k gig too.

You make a face at yourself for thinking of birthing an actual baby as just a ‘sweet gig’. That made it sound a tad bit too casual. Contrary to how you felt at this moment, getting out of the fancy sleek number that had been sent to pick you up and bring you to the chic downtown bistro that was a few blocks away from Kim Enterprises. You’d done some of your research and was shocked to find out that Kim Taehyung was the youngest Kim brother – and the one that preferred the limelight the least. You’d noticed how handsome each brother was but even so, Taehyung stuck out the most to you. Even in a boring, probably the least flattering photo that had been uploaded to their Wikipedia page, Kim Seokjin was the eldest and the one that was currently seen in the business a lot, that even you – who watched nothing but horror movies or SpongeBob (there was no in between) – had seen him once or twice on the news that was usually on at the post office. Kim Namjoon had been labelled the brains behind the company’s recent developments according to the article you had been reading and Taehyung – your future baby daddy – was said to be the developing a new branch for the company that was still in the works but was expected to be a huge success due to the brand loyalty and the recognition the family already had. They were old money from the looks of it. And all of them so darn handsome! How? This wasn’t fair.

They would make pretty babies.

“Want to head in? It’s even better inside.” You almost jump out of your skin when Jimin’s melodiously airy voice speaks somewhere near your ears. And now his ears are going red from chuckling at you. Yours are probably already red. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

Was it possible for someone to look even better just in a span of few days? Did he get a facial or some sort of beauty treatment? Because you swear that he looks even better than the last time you saw him at the office and you didn’t think that was possible for a human being. You must have been staring dumbly since Jimin gives you a concerned look when you don’t move. “I really do apologise. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, no, no, I-I’m not scared. I’m really fine. I love horror movies.” The word vomit just comes out like… well, vomit. You sucks your lips between your teeth as you start walking beside him. Very evidently embarrassed at your sudden outbursts. You really needed to take a deep breath and calm the heck down. Jimin doesn’t seem to think you’re an idiot though. At least not outwardly because he only wears a kind smile as he leads you to your table.

“That’s good to hear. Tae loves horror movies too.” He’s pulling out a chair for you before he sits across. Just when you’re about to ask where the man in question is, he’s strutting in like the bistro is his runway. You wish you were exaggerating.

“Sorry I’m late babe. Meeting went overtime.” You watch him lean in, pecking Jimin on cheek sweetly before taking a seat next to him. He’s wearing a dark navy blue blazer with a gold Chanel pin on the breast pocket, hair parted like before and a Rolex on his wrist. Looking like a million bucks. You knew that was a Rolex because you literally read an article that was entirely dedicated to the clothes he owned. Weird. But a very interesting piece, you’re not going to lie. Your conclusion in the end was: he’d make really pretty babies who would probably wear mini kid Rolex’s too. Was that a thing? Could you get a child a Rolex? That probably wouldn’t be very wise because-

“You look deep in thought. Unless you’re just silently judging.”

“You would make really pretty babies.” Gosh darn it. Why couldn’t you put a ziplock on your mouth! However you settle for just slapping your hand over your mouth in embarrassment. Is this how you’re going to be like in front of them? They might as well pull out of the contract for not wanting a crazy woman with no filter to mother their child. Jimin seems to be finding you amusing though, with the smirk that’s on his face. Even Taehyung’s face isn’t as stoic as you had last seen at the office.

“Well,” A playful smile on his face as he looks at Taehyung before facing you again, “at the moment, we’re hoping to make pretty babies with you, y/n.”

You can feel the blood rush upwards from every corner of your body and pool in your cheeks. The way he says your name makes it worse because you long to hear it again. But you know you’re being stupid and probably getting too attached already. You needed to reign it in. You’re getting paid for this. Your gaze still lingers in your lap where you’re fiddling with your fingers restlessly; kind of at a loss for words.

“I’m sorry for him. He’s a bit too excited.” At Taehyung’s deep voice, you look up, a little surprised that he’s actually addressing you directly. You’d thought maybe he’d be the more quiet one just like before. But maybe he was just as nervous as you or apprehensive before. You give him benefit of the doubt.

“Oh please! You’re just as excited babe. Don’t pretend to be all macho.” Taehyung’s disgusted face at Jimin has you unsuccessfully attempting to stifle a giggle but when they both look over at your more relaxed posture, they’re joining in too.

“I’m fine really. I can imagine that you would be. A baby is pretty exciting.” Your soft reply and the smile you give them hopefully conveys your sincerity. You don’t want to sound like you’re forcing yourself to say anything just because you’re getting paid to do this.

“It is. We’re… really happy that you’ve agreed to do this, y/n.” You shrug.

“I am getting paid to do this. I should be thanking you.” It was true. It wasn’t as if you’re going to birth their child out of the goodness of your heart. There may not be any other malicious intent there either – you barely knew them – but you don’t want to act like a saint.

Taehyung and Jimin exchange a look before Taehyung is leaning in further on the table, interlocking his fingers in front of him before he speaks, “No, you shouldn’t. I know it doesn’t seem like you’re doing much because you’re being compensated but – it’s a very big commitment to make for someone. Whether money is involved or not. So really, we appreciate this.”

He wasn’t wrong at all. You just didn’t expect them to understand at such a deep level so quickly. “I suppose you’re right. But I do want to thank you though. Thanks to you guys I can actually graduate.” Jimin claps his hands together at the mention of you graduating.

“We saw on your profile! This is your last semester?” you nod, failing to stop the bright smile stretching across your face. You were just so happy whenever you remembered you were almost there.

“That’s amazing! And I saw you’re studying International relations. That’s very interesting. I did a few sociology subjects at University – I know, not the same but similar – and they were fantastic.” Just then a waiter arrives with your entrees that somehow Jimin had ordered while you’d been speaking to Taehyung.

“This calls for a celebration I believe.” Taehyung, for the first time, smiles. He may have smiled at Jimin first but you think it counts. Especially when the stupid butterflies have started to do the salsa in your stomach again. The mozzarella sticks are so stretchy that you’ve pulled your head back as far as it would go without you falling over.

“I’ve never seen someone actually enjoy these like they’re supposed to. See Tae? You’re a party pooper.” Jimin is adorably scoffing at Taehyung before he picks up another for himself and faces you again. You’re trying to not eat like a slob and remember your table manners but man – these mozzarella sticks are good. No wonder they cost 30 dollars per serving. Money not only looked good, but tasted good too.

“C’mon y/n, let’s see whose string snaps first.” Your eyes widen at Jimin’s casual challenge; eating 30 dollar mozzarella sticks in a posh bistro – him in a suit and you in jeans and a flannel – one of you possibly about to fall over.

“Wait, what? Really?” Taehyung is rolling his eyes like he’s witnessed Jimin do this a thousand times before when he looks to the side with a playfully exasperated smile on his face.

“Yes, really! Okay on 3.” You rush in chewing the one currently in your mouth, swallowing the half chewed mozzarella before grabbing another one. He’s counting to 3 and then you’re both leaning back in your seats, trying hard not to break the cheesy string but continuing to stretch it further. Just when Jimin’s head hits the back of the leather seat, the string snaps and you can’t stop yourself before you’re cheering in place for winning the silly challenge. Half of the cheese stick in your mouth and all.

“Serves you right.” Taehyung is trying to hold back his laughter at Jimin’s defeated face before he turn to you again. “He always does this. No matter the time or place. Babe, wipe that frown off your face. It’s not like you don’t win every single time.”

Jimin is sending a glare at his partner as he wipes his face for any extra cheese or crumbs that might be stuck to the peach fuzz on his face. When he misses a bit of grease on the corner of his mouth, Taehyung is already leaning in with a napkin and wiping the oil off his face with such loving eyes you feel like you shouldn’t be watching such an intimate moment between them. Even though there is nothing seemingly intimate or private about wiping food off of your boyfriend’s mouth. Nonetheless, you divert your gaze, not being able to keep your eyes on them when they seemed to be dozing off in their own world with the secretive glances and whispered words that they were saying to each other.

Noticing the shift in your mood, Taehyung clears his throat, getting your attention before Jimin is once again smiling his sweet bright smile at you. “Apologies, Y/N. Jimin here loves to hoard all my attention.” To which the man in question scoffs playfully and you can’t help but giggle to yourself at the cutest nose scrunch you’ve seen on a grown man. For a moment, you’re tempted to ask the couple if the biological father of the child can be Jimin instead.

But then you remember that it wouldn’t matter because you won’t be the one keeping the child anyway and that realisation has you crashing back down to the present and what a serious matter this is. Perhaps they have been trying to make you comfortable too much – although with good intentions – but the fact remained. This matter was nothing but serious and you had to tread carefully otherwise this seemingly formal matter could get very personal and emotional. Taehyung and Jimin had each other but you only had you.

“No need to apologise. I’m glad to know such a loving couple is going to raise a child together. Luckiest kid, I reckon.” The smile you give is genuine but they both can tell the sentiment in your voice. Perhaps it’s time to get serious.

“Thank you, Y/N. We are happy that someone as smart and bright as you is going to mother our child.” Jimin is sincere, there is no doubt about that. He takes Taehyung’s hands in his own and they both send you comforting looks. “We will take responsibility of you throughout this whole process. You don’t need to worry about anything. You are important to us just as much as the baby you will carry for us. Truly.”

Taehyung leans forward once again to get your attention that had been solely on Jimin while he spoke. Your gaze moves on to his sharper features and for a moment you’re getting lost in his large, twinkling eyes. Not as much as Jimin’s but darn it, he was beautiful.

“I wholeheartedly agree with Jimin. You are young and will need a lot of support because as you’ve said – in your profile – you have no living relative?”

The reminder that you are absolutely alone is not one that you needed at this moment. But you know that they meant no harm in mentioning it. “Y-Yes. My mother passed away 4 years ago.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that. Can’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t but… I’m doing okay. Thanks to you guys as well.” Your grin is mirrored back to you by them both as you reassure them that you are alright. Just then, the food has arrived getting all your attention. The waiter is wheeling a trolley filled with club sandwiches with the thickest, fluffiest bread you have ever seen and your mouth is already watering. You’d had two spoons of peanut butter this morning for your breakfast in an effort to save money for groceries you will buy before you head home.

“Looks good?” Jimin has a teasing smile on his face as he watches you practically drool over the various sandwiches and the thick cut chips drizzled with some sort of sauce with black bits in it. Pepper maybe?

“This looks like the best meal I’m about to have.” He’s chuckling when you talk without taking your eyes off the food. You admit, you may be being a tiny bit rude here but the food really did look thatgood.

“Bon Appetite.” For a second you thought that someone who spoke fluent French, said that to you but it was only Taehyung. Unless…

“Do you speak French?”

“En effet, madame. Tu as de très beaux yeux.”

For once, Jimin and you wear the same expression – his a bit more… carnal than yours admittedly. There was barely a hint of an accent when Taehyung spoke in perfect french. Though he could have called you a donkey for all you knew but, gosh darn – it was sexy.

Okay, you were officially jealous of Jimin.

“You have very beautiful eyes. That’s what he said by the way.” The comment made you blush but you tried to hide it by taking a sandwich triangle. You admit, for a moment you thought about not eating it because it just all looked so prettybut alas, the loud growl in your stomach decided otherwise for you and Jimin sent you an endearing smile while piling up your plate with a whole sandwich, motioning you to continue.

You sent a sheepish smile their way before picking up a thick cut fry with all its golden crunchy goodness. You still had no idea what the sauce was. But your eyes go wide when you take the first bite and the most delicious tangy, earthy flavours explode in your mouth.

“Like it?” Jimin is all but bursting with joy when you vigorously nod after being frozen on the spot for a few seconds. “It’s a mixture of black and white truffles in a butter sauce.”

Your eyes widen in understanding. No wonder you couldn’t quite place your finger on what ingredient you were tasting exactly. Short answer: rich people food.

“It’s amazing. Never thought I’d be eating anything with truffles let alone fries.” The chuckle breaks free, in amazement before you can stop it until you also remember that truffles are expensive. “Oh gosh. Please tell me this sandwich costs less than $50?” You’d worry about humiliating yourself by asking such a question when you’ve already eaten a quarter of the sandwich – later.

Jimin looks slightly startled but wave you off, “Do not worry about that. This is on us. We did invite you here, after all.” You ponder over it for a moment but let it go when Taehyung also reassures you that their invite meant their shout.

“Well, I feel bad that you’re buying me really expensive sandwiches. Pizza hut would’ve suffice as well.”

As far as you’re concerned, you were totally serious. But the two men opposite you who’re muffling chuckles at your pout has you looking at them with a slight glare to your gaze – already feeling comfortable enough with them to treat them to one of your looks.

“What?”

“Nothing, darling. Pizza hut it is – next time.” Jimin’s charming smile that shoes off the one dimple has you melting on the spot. It takes you a moment to continue to chew before swallowing and thankfully avoiding the risk of choking yourself. Oh and hopefully your face isn’t as red as the tomatoes you’re picking out from your sandwich.

“I really should’ve asked you what you liked before ordering. Sorry.” Never did you think Taehyung would be apologizing for not asking your order before putting it in. But you guess he really didn’t dislike you after all.

“No! It’s all good. I really like everything.” And you did.

The rest of the lunch goes smoothly and you three spend the next hour getting to know each other better. You surprisingly have a very relaxed time and quickly forget the nerves that had been clawing their way up your spine and making you jittery before when you’d been cluelessly standing in front of the bistro. You learn that Jimin had went to a renowned dance academy and had met Taehyung after he’d caught the eye of the bachelor at one of his shows in Paris. Apparently Taehyung had chased the elder until he’d given in and went out on a date with him and that had been 7 years ago. Taehyung had been an Art student and particularly into modern, impressionist, post-impressionist and romanticist art. Particularly, Jean Baptiste had been the one to prompt the teenager to study in France.

First of all, you had no idea what any of the forms – “periods” Taehyung had corrected you – of art actually even existed let alone that Kim Taehyung was into ‘romanticist’ art.  Nonetheless, you learnt that there was, unsurprisingly, much more to them both than meets the eye.

After you three had finished, both men had insisted on dropping you off themselves and thus how you found yourself sitting in a Rolls Royce, trying to sit as still as possible which makes Jimin ruffle your hair from his seat beside you.

“It’s okay. You can breathe if you like.” You just smile shyly at being caught acting weird like you tend to around them and their… wealth to put it bluntly. Jimin always responded lightly and it never failed to put you at ease.

They pull up outside your apartment building and you can’t hide the blush when Taehyung leans his head down slightly to look out the window, inspecting the front of it thoroughly. You don’t want to act embarrassed but you can’t help it after having a glimpse in to the life they lead which was far more... Full than yours. But the reality was that this is where you lived and were most likely going to live for a while so there was no point in being embarrassed. It may not be much but it was all you had.

“So, we will see you on Friday at the clinic? Solhyun told me you have an ultrasound on Thursday though.” You nod, confirming that you have to go in tomorrow before the big appointment.

“The doctor wants to make sure I am ovulating – just in case – before the IUI. If anything changes then you’ll know.” Jimin reaches over, grasping your hand in his warm one and instantly, your heart skips a beat at the way he looks at you. Concern written all over his features.

“Would you like us to be there?” The question takes you by surprise and for a moment you want to say ‘yes, yes I want you both there.’

Because you were scared. But you know that they would just want to know everything themselves and make sure everything went okay for the amount of money they are spending, after all. You would too.

“I-It’s okay. It’s just an ultrasound. I’ll see you both on Friday.” You smile your assurance and squeeze Jimin’s hand, only waving politely at Taehyung before exiting the car. After you’re safely inside the main door is when the car leaves and you have to lean against it to even your breathing.

“God, please let this all go okay. Please.” You hope your prayer isn’t wasted when you will all your sincerity in to it. For your sake and theirs.

“Hi there y/n. I’m Dr. Klarna and I’ll be doing the IUI for you tomorrow. How’re you feeling?”

You let out a deep sigh that feels like it had been trapped in your throat for quite some time. “Nervous. Really nervous but I think I’ll be okay.” You try to smile at her but it seems like she sees right through it when she gives an empathetic look before smiling at you.

“That is perfectly normal, y/n. This is a bit daunting to be doing in your early 20s and it’s okay to feel like that. Just let me know if you feel too anxious and I’ll see what we can do to ease that, alright?” When you nod firmly, she asks you to lay down on the ultrasound bed and begins.

It doesn’t take too long and an hour later, she is back with the results in her office where you’d been waiting anxiously. When she gives you a reassuring smile, your anxiety lessens just enough to let you breathe.

“You are perfectly healthy and ovulating so no need to worry, okay? You’re good to go and I’ll go ahead and forward these to Solhyun, your case manager. Do you have any questions or concerns?”

You just wanted to go home and relax before the anxiety made you puke. You wonder if it’s the ramen you had earlier that’s making you this way or just the nerves making you feel somewhere between sick and hyperactive.

“No, that’s all good doctor.”

“Perfect. I will see you tomorrow at 1PM. Take care of yourself okay?” Her smile is warm and she genuinely seems to be caring. Her greying hair doesn’t dull the beauty she holds with her warm brown eyes and light brown shoulder length hair. Her words hold the warm tone you’d only ever heard whenever your mother had spoken with you and now you want to ask her if she has children of her own. But you opt for only saying a goodbye and taking your leave.

As soon as you are outside, you feel like you can finally breathe. Yesterday, you’d been so enveloped in your conversations with Jimin and Taehyung that this day had seemed so distant in the future than the reality of it being tomorrow. Walking towards the local grocery store had somewhat calmed you down and going over the list of the essentials you needed for the next two weeks had distracted you enough to get through the day. Conveniently you had forgotten yesterday about going to the grocery store and had only remembered when your stomach had growled at 9pm that night and the empty fridge had poured cold water on you reminding you that you forgot to shop. So the peanut butter had to suffice once more.

Maybe the peanut butter was making you nauseous earlier. Hm.

Oh well. You had one last night before the big event tomorrow.

“Y/n!” Jimin’s airy, familiar voice attracts you immediately when he calls your name as soon as you enter the waiting room the next day.

You had been told that that Taehyung and Jimin had been called to the clinic earlier to give a sample of his… well, semen. You can’t even say ‘semen’ in your own thoughts and you were about to have it injected in to you to make a baby. How ridiculous is that? ‘Grow up, y/n! You’re about to grow another human in you for god’s sake.’

However, your internal yelling doesn’t nearly calm you down as much as Jimin’s warm smile and his unexpected hug does. Tentatively, you put your arms around him as well, returning the warm gesture, letting the butterflies in your stomach doing their dance distract you enough to ease your nerves.

“How are you feeling?” He pulls back enough to ask you.

“I-I am okay. A little nervous.” When he raises his eyebrow in concern, a worried smile on his face you sigh, adding, “Okay. A lot nervous. Kinda feeling like I will puke but that’s just my anxiety.” His eyes soften even further and he drops his arms to take a hold of your hand, leading you to the seats in the waiting room.

“You can still say no. Back out of this if you don’t want to do this anymore. Don’t worry about the contract.”

“No! Of course not. I-I still want to.” When the frown on his face doesn’t go away, you assure him again. “For you and Taehyung. Please. I am okay. I promise.”

It takes him a few seconds but he nods, patting your hand and giving you a reassuring smile. “Okay. We will be waiting for you right here.”

Just then, Taehyung appears in front of you two. You and Jimin may have been sitting in silence but you had still missed when Taehyung had walked out of the doctor’s office.

Upon seeing the sombre looks on the both of your faces, his own is turning stony as well. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. She’s just a bit nervous.” Jimin reassures Taehyung, your hand still in his own as you also stare at Taehyung too.

“What? Getting cold feet already?”

“Tae!”

You don’t have too much time to process his harsh, accusing tone because just then, the nurse is calling your name. And as much as you were nervous before, you’re thankful that you’ve been given an out because you’re not exactly sure what to say to him. You’re nervous enough that you may cry instead of the anger that usually bubbles up in you when someone talks to you that way.

Instead, you squeeze Jimin’s hand, giving him a forced smile and look at Taehyung just once before walking away with the nurse. You can hear Jimin furiously whispering to Taehyung as you’re walking and that only makes you want to walk faster. Not wanting to hear anything they are talking about and feel worse than the way Taehyung’s sudden change of attitude has you feeling.

Thankfully, you’re busy getting changed into the patient gown you’ve been given and settling in the bed, setting your feet up just the way you’d done before at your usual check-up at your gyno appointment. When Dr. Klarna comes back, with her gloves on this time, you can feel the nerves coming back once again. Closing your eyes and taking deep breathes, you will your heart to stop buzzing in your chest and calm down so you don’t pass out.

This really was happening.

“Okay y/n. Keep taking deep breathes for me and try to keep calm. If you feel like you’re going to be sick just let me know okay?” You nod, keeping your breathing relatively stable as you continue to breathe deeply.

“Alright, perfect. So I’m going to insert the catheter in to your vagina, passing your cervix and up to the uterus. It will feel just like a pap smear but it will allow the sperm to swim up straight to the egg and hopefully fertilize it.” You nod once again, watching the thin, long tube that she’s holding.

“W-Will it hurt?” You know it may sound like a juvenile question but you needed to know. You hated needles and even though this was just a tube – it was still going inyou.

“It shouldn’t hurt at all. You may feel like your stomach is slightly cramping but it won’t be unbearably painful. Anything else you want to know before we begin?” She doesn’t sound impatient at all. You know she wants you to be relaxed before she proceeds and you want this to be over with before the nerves come back. So you shake your head at her and she smiles before asking you take another deep breathe.

“Okay, here we go.” Your eyes close on their own and before you can really think too much about it, you can feel the tube being inserted inside you. At one point, the sensation is dull enough that you can’t really feel the tube going any deeper inside. Just when you’re about to ask her how long it will take, she is pulling back – the tube in her hand as she disposes it off.

“All done!” Already?

“Oh. That was quick.” She chuckles at your dumbfounded expression. You really should have done more research. You had opted against it in case you found something that made you too nervous to continue but perhaps this won’t be too bad…

“Yup. It’s pretty simple. Inserting the sperm near its destination and that’s it. You just need to keep laying down for the next hour so we can maximise the chances of the sperm reaching the egg. Do you need some water? Can I get you anything?”

You settle back down on the bed and shake your head at her. “I’m okay. Thank you.”

“Feel free to take a nap if you like.” She’s washing her hands as she gives you a small smile. “I’ll send the nurse to wake you when it’s time.” You thank her again as she leaves and try to relax.

So this was really happening huh? As much as you were starting to feel okay about this – Taehyung snapping at you with such disdain wasn’t exactly bringing your spirits up. Why had he been so angry? All the possibilities of the ‘why’ keep you pondering for the next how many minutes – you’re not sure. Just when you’re dozing off – the nurse comes in and lets you know you can change back in your clothes and are free to go. Lazily, you tug on your jeans and shirt and grab your bag before the nurse comes back again with a clipboard.

“Y/N, dear. Give us a call as soon as you start feeling any of those symptoms okay?” She’s handing you a sheet full of signs of you potentially being pregnant, “Usually it takes about 2 weeks before you start feeling the fatigue, nausea and such – that’s if the implantation has been successful. If we don’t hear from you then Dr. Klarna will schedule an appointment just for a check-up and send you the details. All the details of today will also be forwarded to your case worker.”

You nod, reading over the sheet as she speaks. “Any questions my dear?”

“No, thank you. I will give Dr. Klarna a call as soon as I feel a bit off.”

“Alright then. Take care.” She lets you go with a kind smile that you try to mimic just because she was too nice for you to not smile back. However, your smile is slipping away as soon as you see Jimin on the waiting chairs, head resting back against the wall while he seems deep in thought. Though, as soon as you come in his line of vision, he jerks up, standing just a few steps away from you.

“Y/N… are you alright?”

“Yeah. What are you still doing here?” You really didn’t expect him to stick around after the way Taehyung had reacted. Thinking he would probably take him elsewhere to cool off because surely, his boyfriend was more important than sitting around and waiting for you to be done.

“What do you mean? I wanted to be here for you. Listen…” He’s shifting on his feet, a sigh escaping his lips before he continues, “Taehyung was out of line. Please don’t think too much of it. He just… We’ve been left at the last minute before and he just panicked and thought maybe you… you were leaving us too.”

The way Jimin says ‘us’, the pain in his voice tells you that he’s telling the truth. Out of the two of them, you could safely say that you trusted Jimin more than anyone you had trusted in such a short amount of time. So you give him the benefit of the doubt, just for Jimin.

“Okay. I guess I understand.” You nod at him, forcing on a small smile to ease his worries.

“Thank you. I sent him home to cool off but I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“I…” You try to find the words to respond but you can’t. You had just assumed that you would go home by yourself after the procedure. No second thoughts that one of them might be waiting for you. Maybe you were too used to be alone. And even though this companionship may be temporary – it was still real for the time being. And if Jimin continued to look at you the way he did every time, you might as well kiss your heart goodbye.

“Okay. I’m fine though.” Jimin takes your hand in his, walking out of the clinic without breaking the link between your hands.

“I’m glad. Let me drop you home.”

“It’s okay-” Jimin hushes you while opening the door of his escalade – you assume the car is his own since no driver is in sight.

“No arguments. I’m taking you home.” Biting the smile that’s threatening to break lose, you just look out of the window, murmuring a thanks and let him drive you home.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” For the tenth time probably, Jimin is asking you this question. His sweet eyes filled with trepidation.

“I will be fine, Jimin.” You stretch your arm across to his seat, using every ounce of courage in you to grab his hand softly to reassure him. Up until now, Jimin has been the one to initiate any physical contact and you had just gone along with it. But this was the first time you were reaching out to hold his hand to convey your sincerity. You were just fine.

“The doctor said I’m okay to do what I usually do in the day.”

“And what is that exactly?” You don’t miss the teasing smirk that’s stretching across his pretty face.

“Well,” you drag out the syllables, racking your brain for what you’re usually doing at this time, “Probably making dinner and watching SpongeBob.” The only way to describe Jimin’s laugh is magical. Magical and contagious because you’re smiling too as he throws his head back, eyes turning in to crescent moons as he mumbles an ‘okay.’

“Don’t laugh! It’s fun.” You can’t help the pout that your lips have turned in to. SpongeBob was a sensitive topic for you. When Jimin Calms down from his fit of giggles, he looks over at you once more, bringing a hand towards your cheek.

His warm finger tips slide against your jaw before his thumb is rubbing just the very slightest on your chin as his index finger holds it. Time seems to have stopped while you try hard not to stare at his plush lips. His own eyes seem to be flicking back and forth from your lips to your eyes. Finally, as if he’s shaken himself out of a trance himself.

“Okay. Take care and call me if you need anything. Okay?” You nod – or you think you do because you seem to be on autopilot at the moment. Damn him for malfunctioning your whole entire brain with just a caress to your chin. Your chin! You really needed to get laid if you were lusting after gay men.

Wait- no. You can’t. Trust you to forget that you’re literally trying to make a baby for them.

“O-Okay I will. I promise.” After a few more seconds of sizing you up, he lets you go, unlocking the door for you to climb out.

You wave bye at him but he refuses to drive away until you are safely inside. Just when you are heading upstairs to your apartment, he drives off.

The familiar but unwelcomed butterflies are back again but you just tell yourself those are ‘cramps’ like the doctor told you.

It’s been 4 days since the IUI and today you’re finally feeling the cramps that Dr. Klarna had told you about. They hadn’t been too intense in the morning but as the day has gone by, the discomfort level had steadily climbed up. You’re in the middle of texting Jimin back – he’s texted every day to make sure you are alright; much to your protest that he didn’t have to – that a particularly nasty cramp makes you double over.

“Ow! Frick…” You’re trying hard to not swear – you didn’t particularly like to – but the pain was so intense that you have to grab the counter of your kitchen with one hand while the other clutches your stomach. You take a deep breath, walking over to your sofa – that’s just a few steps away in your small apartment, thankfully – and sit down.

And just like that – you spend rest of the day either on your sofa watching TV or curling up in your bed -taking random naps. At first – the thought that you might be pregnant goes through your head immediately but then you remember reading on the sheet that the chance of you being pregnant this early on is very rare. So instead, you just suck it up and also remember that you should be getting your period in just over a week if you’re not pregnant so the cramps could be explained by that. Even if you’ve only ever gotten cramps a day or two before your period. Nonetheless, you didn’t want to raise a false alarm.

It’s 10PM at night when you receive another message from Jimin, asking if you’re okay. You realise that you had forgotten to press send to your text earlier in the morning and probably worried him more than he already does. Quickly texting him back, you grab your pajamas, heading to the toilet to change. A few minutes later, you’re ready for bed and before you know it – already dreaming about a certain someone kissing the hell out of you.

The next morning – you blame the hormones for that particular dream.

It’s the 9thday after the procedure that you see the blood smeared on your underwear and your heart drops.

“What…” Your breathing has picked up and it feels like your throat is closing up at the thought of you not being pregnant if you’re getting your period already. It’s irrational, you know. The Doctor had warned you that you may not get pregnant on the first try but you had never really entertained the thought too much. Dismissing it as being not the case for you when she’d told you that it likely won’t be since you’re so young. However, the cramping… the mood change and now blood. You had to be getting your period right? Maybe the IUI messed up your period symptoms a bit but it was close enough to your period that this could be it. You were spotting already.

Quickly rushing out of the bathroom, you hastily punch in the number of the clinic, knees bouncing with anxiety as you hear the ringing. “Hi! May I speak to Dr. Klarna please? I-It’s y/n. Please tell her it’s y/n.”

“Alright, just a second please.” Whoever is on the line is thankfully not making a fuss – probably because of your panicked voice. So you calm yourself down; taking deep breathes.

“Y/n?”

“I’m bleeding.” The words come out before you can even greet her properly.

“Okay, Y/N, that’s alright. Don’t panic. How much are you bleeding?”

“J-Just spotting. I think I may have my period.” There is silence over the other line for just a few seconds too long to make you start self-fulfilling your theory.

“I’ve booked you in for today at 4:30. Are you okay to come down to the clinic y/n?”

“Yes. Yes I’m okay with that.”

“Perfect. Just wear a pad for now if the bleeding is too much. No tampon. I’ll see you soon okay?”

“Okay.” You’re nodding to yourself, thanking her before hanging up.

What if you weren’t pregnant? You didn’t want to disappoint Jimin and Taehyung. Would Taehyung even speak to you if you weren’t pregnant? What if you had to pay all the money back? You’ve already deposited it to your college and had no idea how you’ll get 20k back if there is something wrong with you and this all doesn’t work out.

“Oh god...” Taking deep breaths, trying to stay calm, you force yourself to have a drink of water and not think about all the what-ifs that will drive you mad. Instead, you put on SpongeBob and let the silly cartoons take your mind off of what could be happening to you.

“Your results should be done any minute. I’ll go and have a look, okay?” You nod, sitting on the examination bed of Dr. Klarna’s office once again. “Mr Park and Mr. Kim are outside.”

At the mention of the two men, your heart rate is rising once again. But it was only logical for them to be here, you suppose. “They are asking to see you. Would you like me to send them in?”

“I- Okay.” As much as your nerves are telling you otherwise – if you couldn’t face them then you would have an even bigger problem when it came to the time of breaking the bad news to them. She gives you a nod before she’s leaving the office. Taking in a deep breath, you prepare yourself for their arrival.

Just a few short minutes later, Jimin is entering the office – a beige trench coat adorning his lithe frame, making him look bigger than he was. And a few seconds later – Taehyung’s taller frame and sharper features are in your view as well. His face is passive and you’re not sure how to greet him. Jimin however, is rushing to your side – taking your hands in his own as he stands close enough that you can smell his cologne.

“Are you alright? We heard you felt unwell and came as soon as we could.” The smile that finds its way on to your face is something natural – something uninhibited that Jimin seems to pull from you and no matter how much you trained yourself to not melt in to a puddle, you still turned putty whenever he had his hands on you. Which was more often than not.

“I-I’m okay. I was just,” taking a deep breath as you look down at both of your hands, trying to earn the courage to say the words, “I was bleeding this morning.”

You know that Jimin is smart enough to realise what that could mean and you don’t need to look at his face to see the disappointment that might lurk there. However, while trying to not look at Jimin, you can see Taehyung instead in your view and you can see the negative emotion in his face more clearly than what you think you’ll find on Jimin’s

“I’m so-”

“Mr, Kim, Mr Park.” Dr Klarna had just entered the room then, nodding at both of the men with a bright smile on her face as she glanced to her clipboard and then back to you and Jimin.

“Doctor, is she okay?” Jimin lets go of your hands, walking more towards where Taehyung stood to hear what she had to say.

“She won’t be feeling so hot for the next few weeks though.” Her smile is getting bigger and so is your confusion.

“Congratulations. Y/n is pregnant. You and Mr. Kim are expecting.”

Oh.

A/N: Thanks 4 reading !!! Next chapter will be posted this time next week :) hope everyone had a lovely christmas!

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

My Little Secret part 2

Summary: Something happened last night, and your brain is foggy on the details. You run into someone familiar when taking a fun little trip to Saint Denis.

Warnings: Alcohol mention and use, mention and use of weed (well, vaping)

With the sun shining through the blinds of your bedroom window, you woke up from a sound sleep. Although, you couldn’t remember exactly when you got home and how, it felt more like a dream anything. Did you hit your head or something?

Thinking back, you vaguely remembered getting into your car…being helped, actually. Someone had helped you, though your brain was too fogged to remember who exactly.

Either way, you’d gotten home without any issues.

The bright and sunny sky showed promise, a beautiful Saturday to enjoy. That is until you saw the mountain of textbooks resting upon your desk, and you groaned. Guess the day would be spent doing homework.

You spent a couple of hours around the house, cooking yourself breakfast and cleaning up the miniscule space you had in your apartment. You showered, treating yourself to a personal spa day. Eventually you’d run out of tasks to do, and you eventually had to turn to those textbooks.

It wasn’t exactly hard, yet there was a vast amount. Grad school for pharmacology, you read drug names a hundred times over. You knew human anatomy like the back of your hand, all of the effects and contraindications of different drugs. With all the information you’d crammed into your head for these past five years, it was a miracle your brain hadn’t shut down by now.

As an hour passed, your focus began to wander back to last night. Nothing seemed to add up, and you couldn’t remember why you needed help. Maybe you’d passed out somehow? You could recall leaving the building, and then between that and the car…nothing.

You thought harder, trying to fight past the fog that clouded your memory. You could recall…a voice…

The sound of your phone ringing snapped you from your train of thought. Grabbing it, the caller ID flashed with your friend’s name.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hey girl!” your friend, Sam, responded. “What’re you doing at this moment?”

“Eh, homework,” you sighed. “Feels like I barely made a dent.”

Sam made a noise of sympathy. “Well, you wanna take a break? Some of us are heading to Saint Denis today.”

“What for?” you asked.

“To have fun, of course!” Sam exclaimed. “Do a little shopping in the daytime, bar hop at night!”

Tempting. You thought about it for a moment, but you had to at least finish your homework. “I don’t know, Sam. This homework isn’t gonna finish itself.”

“Do it tomorrow,” she answered quickly. “Come on, it’s been a while since we all got to enjoy ourselves. And Saint Denis is the perfect place to do so!”

She had a point. The last time you’d truly had a fun night out was after midterms, in celebration of you passing all of them. Plus, you did like Saint Denis. The French charm that laced the city never got old. “Alright, you.ve convinced me.” You finally gave in.

You could practically see the grin on her face on the other end of the line. “Sweet. We’ll swing by and get you then.”

—-

You’d been ready to go within the hour, your friends swinging by in a large SUV to pick you up. Within two hours, you were in the intricate city of Saint Denis. You’d stopped at a diner for some lunch before hitting the streets to have a little bit of fun.

Saint Denis was a beautiful city with its French inspired architecture and culture. You’ve only been here a few times, yet you were always lost in its grandeur. High end restaurants and clubs lined the busier streets, while cute boutiques and hobby shops were confined to smaller streets and alleyways. Theaters and galleries were popular amongst natives and tourists alike.

You’d wandered in and out of smaller shops, collecting a couple of souvenirs as you went. Munching on snacks here and there, or just viewing items you wish you had the money to spend on. Clothes that would take a week’s worth of pay to purchase.

There was always something for you to do here, and each visit unveiled a new experience for you. This time your group had gone into a new museum of local history that had opened, a small building on the corner towards the center of the city.

Being a history buff, it definitely interested you more than your friends did. You spent a little more time than you’d like to admit while going through the exhibits, learning about how the city seemed to be a hot spot for outlaws in the late 19th century, even displaying a gun of a fallen gang member from a huge bank heist.

After your friends bugging you to leave, you wandered back out into the humid air. The sun was fairly low in the sky by then, a late afternoon beginning to be touched by twilight in the horizon. The need for alcohol was becoming apparent, and the daygoers were soon returning to their homes as the young night owls were appearing.

Your group eventually came across an old bar that wasn’t very packed yet. It was saloon style, a different setting from the club that you worked at. It wasn’t crowded yet, though a good amount of people moved amongst the space. Music played overhead, the clank of pool balls slamming together occasionally rang out from the corner.

With the first round of drinks, your group sat at a table, drinking happily and chatting about everything you hadn’t covered earlier today. As time wore on and the sky outside darkened, and more patrons entered. The music slowly began to pick up the pace, and a few bodies were beginning to dance.

At some point you’d moved over to the pool table, dividing yourselves into two teams of three. It started out fun, giggling at the awkward taps and misses and cheering whenever someone got a ball into one of the holes. Over time though you began to get bored, your idle eyes slowly scanning the ever growing crowd as you sipped on another drink.

It was more diverse than the club back at home, at least for a Saturday night. Sure, there were many people around your age, as well as older patrons swarming around the bar and buying pitchers of beer.

The sky had completed darkened now, from what you’ve noticed as the door occasionally opened, bringing a gust of humidity amongst the crowd. Gazing aimlessly, lost in a small daze as your friends continued the pool game.

But wait-

You looked toward a shadowed spot again. Towards the back of the bar, a figure stood, casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded. His head was tilted down, hidden behind what looked like a cowboy hat.

The brim lifted, immediately uncovering a pair of intense blue eyes. Somehow, they seemed familiar…

“Y/N!” Sam called to you. “Your turn!”

You blinked and turned towards the table again, noting the expectant looks on your friends’ faces. You sighed and grabbed a cue, lining up your shot for the eight ball.

---

Some time had passed after finishing the pool game, and you wandered back over to the bar for another drink. Squeezing in between others to reach the slightly sticky surface, you placed your empty glass upon it and waited for the bartender to get your attention. It always felt slightly strange to be on the paying side of the bar, knowing you could easily make your own drinks if you were that determined.

Both of the bartenders were busy dealing with others on the far side, not that you minded. You understood that rush all too well. Zoning out once again, you didn’t notice when another person took the empty spot beside you.

It wasn’t until his arm accidentally brushed against yours did you snap out of your daydream. Skin as cold as ice, you glanced toward him. The man from earlier.

It only now occurred where you’d seen him before: the previous night at your own bar. The guy who had a weird, predatory gaze but promised he wouldn’t act as such anymore. And somehow, you remembered him helping you to your car…

“You sure have a thing for starin’, don’t ya?” his voice startled you, not realizing you’d gave him a look longer than just a fraction of a second.

You bit on your bottom lip as you shied away from his gaze. Damn it, he caught you again. This time it wasn’t even intentional. “I’m sorry, I was just trying to remember where I saw you. You were at the club I worked at last night.”

“Yeah, I know I got an ugly mug. Easy to remember.”

Your head snapped up to look at him again. In no way was this guy ugly. From his piercing blue eyes to the built cheekbones and his strong jaw that had a decent amount of stubble, decorated with faint wrinkles and…scars? A rugged sense of handsomeness that touched his features. You never really looked at men much older than you were, yet you had to appreciate this one. “You…aren’t ugly, if that’s why you think I was staring again,” you said with a slight hint of bewilderment. “But…I think…didn’t you help me…or something? Unless I was dreaming.”

“Ah,” he sat up straight. “You tripped n’ fell at some point. Hit your head against them trash cans. I was nearby when I heard it. Came on over wonderin’ if there was a scuffle or somethin’. Saw you layin’, I waited till you came to, then made sure you were okay enough to go home.”

Tripping and hitting your head? You certainly didn’t remember that, yet it would explain the fogginess on what else had happened that night. “Well, I appreciate it, Mr…”

“Arthur,” he finished for you, giving you a small smile. “It’s not a problem, Miss Y/N.”

Wait. “How’d you know my name?” you asked suspiciously.

“You told me, I asked you some questions as you were gettin’ up.” Arthur explained.

Another memory that seemed to have slipped your mind. Maybe you hit your head harder than you’d realized. “Well…good thing you were there to save the day.”

“Or night.” He added.

You half smiled at his response. “So, isn’t it a little odd that we run into each other twice in a row? Saint Denis is a bit of a drive from Rhodes.”

“’Spose you could say that,” Arthur shrugged lightly. “But I came here for some business. Hate the city really, but this bar just happens to be a favorite of mine.”

“Why is that?”

Before answering, Arthur gazed up at the ceiling, staring into the dimness past the low golden lights. “The charm…I guess. This is the oldest bar in Saint Denis, and ain’t much changed. At least so I’ve heard.”

“I thought you said you don’t drink,” you pointed out. “What’s the point of coming here?”

“Fond memories.” His answer was short and quick.

“So, are you from here?” you asked.

Arthur shook his head, his nose wrinkling in slight disgust. “Nah, just have a lot o’ history here, personally. No matter how much I try to escape, somethin’ always drags me back.”

“Sounds like you put yourself in that cycle, Arthur.” you pointed out with slight amusement.

He shrugged again. “Don’t matter that much. Gotta work somehow.”

You hummed a response, understanding that plight all too well. You remembered the job you had in your first years of college. Wasn’t ideal, set in a place that you’d never want to step foot in again. “So what do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”

His focus shifted to you again. “I’m an outlaw. I go around robbin’ banks and killin’ folk that need killin’.”

You stared at him. With his nonchalant tone, you weren’t sure if he were joking or not. After a few seconds of silence of contemplating, you snorted into laughter. “Sounds like one hell of a job!” you giggled, and he chuckled himself.

Before you could do anything else, you heard your name being called once again. Turning around, Sam was standing just a few feet away. She held up a vape pen, raising her eyebrows in invitation. You nodded in understanding, and turned toward Arthur again.

And then you realized you forgot to grab another drink. “Shoot, I wanted to order something else.”

“Go on with your friend, I’ll order for ya.” He said.

You frowned slightly, giving him an odd look. You hardly knew him, yet he was offering you to buy a drink?

“Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna spike it,” He said earnestly. “Just think of it as a gift for a nice conversation.”

This guy was strange, yet had a charm to him that you couldn’t place. “Okay, but if you try anything, my friends will gang up on you.” You warned, adding in your drink order and moving through the crowd to join Sam.

---

“Who’s that man you were talking to, Y/N?” Sam asked, her voice rough after taking a drag from the pen and handing it to you.

You two stood outside the bar, off from the main crowd as they entered and existed the building. Taking a drag yourself, you exhaled, coughing slightly at the end before responding. “Some guy I met at my bar last night. Helped me out after I hurt myself.”

“You hurt yourself?” Sam repeated, her eyes wide.

“Yeah, don’t really remember it. He said I fell and hit my head.” You explained.

“Jesus, Y/N,” Sam exasperated. “You’re gonna be a pharmacologist, you can’t go off killing all your brain cells!”

“As if this doesn’t?” you joked, gesturing to the pen.

“Hey, I was high during most of midterms. I passed just fine.” Sam responded as-a-matter-of-factly, swiping it back.

“And I suppose copying my notes had nothing to do with it?” you lightly shot back, unable to hide the grin on your face.

Sam coughed a “shut up” in mid-exhale, leaving both of you giggling to yourselves. As the amusement died down, someone had approached you.

It was Arthur, sidling up to you with a drink in his hand. You blinked in surprise, realizing he was absolutely serious about that drink.

“Here ya are,” he said, holding the glass out to you. “Unspiked n’ all.”

You took it. “Thanks, Arthur,” you glanced at Sam staring at you expectantly. “Oh, Sam, this is Arthur. The guy I just told you about.”

“Ma’am.” Arthur greeted, tilting his head to her.

“Hi! Thanks for helping out Y/N, she told me of your heroic act,” Sam responded, and leaned closer to peer at him from under the hat. “Hey…you look familiar, do you work in Gaskill Hall?”

Arthur stepped back slightly, but shook his head. “Sorry, got me confused with someone else.”

“You’re too high,” You stated with a laugh. “Sorry, Arthur. Sam can be…over the top sometimes.”

Arthur waved the statement off. “That’s alright, I’ve met quite a few like her over the years. Anyway, I’ll leave ya to it, then. I’ll be headin’ off. Enjoy your night, ladies.”

You bid your goodbyes to him, and once again thanked him for the drink. As he sauntered off, you peered into the glass. The fruity smell of the juice masked the stronger smell of the alcohol, the straw bobbing slightly with your movement. It puzzled you as to why he offered to buy your drink..

“Ya know, he’s pretty handsome,” Sam mentioned, breaking your train of thought. “In like a hot professor type of way.”

“What, you think he teaches at the school? Is that why he seems familiar to you?” You asked.

Sam shrugged before taking a short drag of her pen. “I dunno, but I think I’ve seen him before…somewhere. Just can’t really place it.”

You didn’t respond, idly sipping the drink. It tasted just as you expected, nothing gave off an indication that he might have altered it. You had to give him the benefit of the doubt, though. He seemed genuinely kind, giving a different air than any other guy you’d met.

Maybe you’ll run into him again at some point.

[incorrectquotes-randomthoughts]

Part 2 of why the pjo movies shouldn’t exist, and now that they do, you should refrain from watching.

Continuation to my post before last. (Yes, I got through the rest of it, I’m surprised too, and not mentally stable)

(After Percy gets healed by the water)

If you saw my other post you know that I turned it off during the capture the flag scene, the whole movie is incredible horrible so I was wondering why that scene was even worse, so I broke it down;

Percy and Annabeth are on opposing teams.

Percy’s a better sword fighter than three people from the other team combined. (Who Luke had said to be sons of Ares)

Annabeth was the only one gaurding her flag.

Needless to say, Percy didn’t get guarding duty, like in the books.

I already mentioned Annabeth’s speach, so unlike her it’s not ok.

She’s been training for five years, but if we take her movie age, at least nine. Yet Percy is almost as good as her.

She should be using a dagger, Luke’s dagger, not a sword.

Everyone has the exact same sword, although Percy has Riptide, other than the pen feature it’s the same as everyone else’s.

Needless to mention swords are the only weapon being used.

Everyone has the exact same shield.

Annabeth and Percy are fighting and people are just watching. That’s not how capture the flag works.

^^^ No one’s trying to steal the flag, neither flag in fact, when it’s clear the blue flag (Percy’s team) is poorly guarded, if at all.

Still no Clarisse, still no electric spear.

Percy beats Annabeth in combat.

Percy just raises the flag and suddenly they won.

There was no claiming. Spoiler alert: In the whole movie.

And now, to my normal form of complaining opinion experessing.

Where are the tables?

Or the magic food??

Or the burnt offerings???

Percy’s supposed to feel alone seating at the Poseidon table.

Nymphs are suddenly horny teenage girls that throw parties I guess.

What even is supposed to be her place? They live in trees.

Grover’s suddenly also a horny teenager. You already threw away his personality a little more won’t matter I suppose.

Percy is not happy about being a hero.

Annabeth is smart enough to know that. She doesn’t think he’s all ‘victorious and got the fame up his head’

WHY WOULD HADES WANT THE LIGHTING BOLT.

Also, why would he appear in flames in the middle of dinner.

Chiron’s protective instinctives don’t exist.

Good to know the Oracle is as exsistent as the Big House.

Percy Jackson would never sneak out of camp.

Grover Underwood would never agree.

Annabeth Chase would never accompany them.

Not their 12 year old selves or however old they are supposed to be.

Luke has technology.

Luke hides bolt in shield because he just happens to know that they’re sneaking out of camp today.

He also happens to have a pair of flying shoes from his dad who he has never met.

And a magic, super convenient map. Also from his dad.

Luke Castellan is smart enough to not mention that he hates his dad in front of them. Specially Annabeth, who he knows how smart she is.

They stumble upon Aunt Em’s in plain daylight, because the map says they have to.

Oh yeah, forgot to tell you, Percy never destroyed national monuments, which never led to him getting magic pearls.

They also never go to the water park.

They never meet Ares, or Aphrodite.

We never learn about Annabeth’s phobia of spiders.

Their actual quest is getting the pearls that will get them out of the underworld, because Luke oh-so-conveniently knew exactly that they would do that.

Not Grover who fought so much to get Annabeth, Luke, and Thalia to camp. Not Annabeth, who survived on the streets when she was seven. Not even a first-quest Percy would suggest to split up. Much less agree.

Percy has a phone.

Medusa doesn’t try to trick them or anything she just straight up goes, I’mma turn ya to stone.

Apparently the temptation to look Medusa in the eyes is too much so this random woman does and turns to stone.

Medusa’s horny af.

I would make a comment on the fact that’s it’s for Annabeth, but like, other than the not-really-actually-exsisting age gap.... they’re Greek.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna seduce this girl into opening her eyes”

Percy decapitates Medusa with pretty much no problem.

Grover can drive.

Grover found a truck, with vines all over it, found the key, and knew how to drive not to mention the car actually worked.

Percy can drive.

Magic seat changing between one scene and the other.

They can afford a hotel.

They can also check in the hotel without being questioned.

They keep Medusa’s head in a sink, in the bathroom. They also got ice for it.

They keep their curtains open.

More Percy just seating underwater doing nothing.

Percy can now heal other with water.

Apparently the gods are forbidden to communicate with their kids.

Producer: Sir, here it says that Annebth likes architecture. We should mention that. Director: Have her go ‘woah’ when she sees a monument. Producer: You’re a genius.

Annabeth sneaks into the boys bathroom in the middle of the day and no one notices.

No one checks, or cleans the bathrooms at the end of the day.

Annabeth has a computer which she uses to video chat Luke.

Luke’s flying shoe gift work perfectly. And even though he said it might take “a little practice” Percy can almost master them.

Hydras can look like/poses people.

Percy. Pays. Attention. To. Chiron’s. Class.

Perseus Jackson knows that you can’t cut a Hydra’s head.

Movie Percy Jackson single handedly cuts all seven Hydra heads before they can regenerate.

Good thing only nine grew back.

Also convenient that Grover carries Medusa’s head around.

Medusa can also turn monsters to stone??? I’m not sure if that one’s canon or not.

Magic map says Lotus hotel because magic pearl ends up here.

The Lotua hotel is NOT suppose to look like... that.

Annabeth wouldn’t take food from such a sketchy place.

Grover would detect that there’s something wrong with the food at least.

That’s is not how the magic of the Lotus casino works.

Friendly reminder that Grover has no personality or emotions other than horny.

And there goes Poseidon speaking in Percy’s mind again.

There’s people chasing after Percy who we never actually learn who they are??

Percy, back to his senses, doesn’t find anything weird about this guy knowing his last name.

Car that was on display is completely functional with no protection for people to steal, and the keys are right there.

Somehow rushing out Percy grabbed the pearl that was oh-so-conveniently next to him when he got back to his senses.

Magic seat changing between one scene and the other part 2.

Part 3.

We never know where they parked the car, as far as we know it’s in the middle of a mountain.

There’s Ancient Greek written in the H of the Hollywood sing and if you read the translation aloud you get a passage to the underworld. How convenient.

Friendly remainder that Grover has no personally part... how many times has he said something again?

The entrance to the underworld is a farse.

The under is a farse.

How is that supposed to be the River Styx? How are you supposed to jump in that?

Producer: Sir, we gotta cgi a three-headed dog. Director: Too much effort, make it three big hellhounds. Producer: Your wit never fails to amaze me sir.

Persephone isn’t suppose to be down here, it’s summer.

Persephone is also horny... for Grover, because he’s a satyr.

Gotta agree with you there Grover, Hades looks like a lesser version of Mick Jagger.

The electric guitar. Seriously? You too?

Hades’ as much of an ass he is in this movie is smart enough to not just... give Percy Sally without the bolt.

Which brings me back... why would Hades ever want the bolt? You know the amount of paperwork a war would cause?

Oh look, there’s Annabeth’s dagger.

I understand that many have different points of view as to how the Hades-Persephone relationship should work but Uncle Rick wrote it so it was a happy relationship so please stop with your “he’s abusive and I look forward to getting out of here” BS you’re not even suppose to be here in the first place, it’s summer.

Grover and Persephone are horny for each other, and since they only have three pearls Grover does the ‘sacrifice’ to stay down here.

Sally, Annabeth, and Percy picture the exact same place with no communication what so ever. Not even glances or nods, nothing.

From here...

Luke has another pair of flying shoes, he goes to the Empire State Building flying.

Luke would never admit in front of Annabeth what he wants, he loves her so much. Even back then, just as a sister.

That’s not even what Luke wants.

Annabeth’s dagger is gone again, replaced by a sword.

Percy happens to have the flying shoes with him.

Percy and Luke have the same amount of sword fighting skill.

Luke takes the bolt from Percy and flies away enough for Percy to have to chase him but not enough to, idk, get out of there.

Percy does not suspect Luke -who wanted him to fail on this quest- would have done anything to the shoes.

The shoes that the first time Percy wore took him time, he can wear perfectly now with no effort what so ever. This kid is a master of the skies.

^ Which he shouldn’t be because Zeus pretty much hates him right now.

Percy uses his powers for the first time in the whole movie (not even unintentionally before) and can control them better than he could in, I dunno, the third or fourth book.

Luke throws his sword to cut to the wings in Percy’s shoes. Not really convenient his like, a foot from the roof of a building.

Luke loses his flying shoes and Percy can take them because they happen to be right next to him.

Percy flies back.

What do you mean there’s no elevator music?

Or grouchy guard?

Mount Olympus looks good, ngl.

...to here has only been nine minutes

The gods at this moment are only supposed to be 12ft tall not... 60

Everyone believes everything, it was Luke’s fault, I did nothing, save my friend the satyr

Poseidon left Percy when he was seven months old apparently. Not before he was born.

Poseidon be like “let me talk to my kid just this once” like you haven’t through out the whole movie.

Sally talks about camp half-blood like Percy’s gonna live there the rest of his life.

Gabe wasn’t petrified.

Percy didn’t send the head to Olympus.

Chiron is encouraging Percy to sneak out again wth.

Annabeth teases Percy. Yeah, I meant sexually.

Anyways, I survived, but I wanted to sum up + add some things, for both posts...

Grover’s a horny teenager with no personality.

Nymphs have ‘places’ where they can throw parties.

The movies target a completely different audience than the books.

There’s a lot of filmimg errors.

The only time Annabeth’s dagger showed up it wasn’t used.

Annabeth fights with her hair down.

Abso-fucking-lutley no one looks like they’re suppose to. NO ONE

Luke doesn’t have his scar.

Annabeth-Chiron relationship is nonexistent.

Annabeth-Luke relationship is nonexistent.

Thalia’s tree never appears.

Nothing about Annabeth’s or Luke’s backstory is ever mentioned.

Nymphs are horny teenagers.

Gabe is a completely different person. (Still an ass but, not properly.)

Persephone is horny.

Medusa’s horny.

Every female in the lotus hotel is horny.

There’s more but honestly I die a little more every time I write something.

Let this be a guide to what not to do in the new adaptation.

And again, let this not be the only visual content we get and let’s pray, please, Disney, adapt Percy Jackson.