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nirvanawrites111 · 1 year ago

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Set My Wings on Fire (DPR Ian x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You're smitten by the love of your life, Christian Yu and he's being painted as a dangerous person. But, you don't care cause that's your man and you're going to stick beside him. You're pretty much in love with a villain, but he's super sweet to you. Non-celebrity AU.

Pairing: DPR Ian x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2024

Warnings: Smut, PIV, oral sex (male rec), mentions of murder, praise kink, good girl, unprotected sex, creampie

This is part of a NEW SERIES called Duality. It's all about embracing switch!energy. Part 1 will be sub!reader and Part 2 will be dom!reader. Some of the stories will be 2 idols x reader, and some will be just 1 on 1.

Smut below the cut.

"You need to leave him alone," Your best friend voices as they stare at the large television on your wall. The dim glow casts a shadow across your living room.

You press your lips together and cross your arms. A tightness crawls up your chest. This is the last thing you want to hear right now. You are tired of hearing this comment right now. You feel around your couch for the remote. You can't bother to listen to the news channel any longer.

"Look," you begin, forcing yourself to meet their gaze. "I know Christian very well. The media is trying to make up stories about him. He's not the monster they're making him out to be," You speak up and express your feelings. You twist his ring that he gave you a year ago, and you decide to wear it as a necklace.

You know Christian better than anyone. Everything he does has a meaning and purpose behind it.

You stare at the image of his picture plastered on the television. His usual neat dark brown hair is a mess, and his eyeliner is smeared. Underneath his picture are large red letters "WANTED" that contrast against his pale complexion. Sure, he might seem dangerous to someone else, but to you, something magnetizes you to him.

"The man is a killer, Y/n. If he comes here, you need to turn him in. You don't want to go to jail for housing a fugitive, do you?"

"He isn't a killer. I don't care what the media is saying."

You pick up your phone off the couch table and see that he texted you five minutes ago that he was on his way. You quickly text back and tell him to wait until your best friend leaves.

"This man has brainwashed you. Hopefully, you realize the truth before it's too late." Your best friend raises their hands in defeat and stands up. "I gotta go. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"He's not, but thanks for stopping by," you reply, trying to smooth things.

Your friend stands up and hugs you. You're glad they are leaving. There is nothing that will convince you that Christian is a bad person. Even with everything you know about him, you would never turn on him.

You walk with them to your front door, and the soft patter of your bare feet echoes against the polished hardwood floor.

Once they leave you close the door only to be slightly pushed open, revealing Christian.

There he is.

The only man that can make you melt to your knees. You want nothing more than to feel his hands all over you.

"Beautiful," Christian, your accented lover, whispers your favorite nickname. He steps into your home. His words allow you to fall to your knees and please your man. But, you don't want to act too thirsty.

He removes his hood with both hands and reveals his hair in messy, shoulder-length loose curls. The two of you stand in your foyer, and your eyes connect.

Christian has such a dark energy around him that it attracts you to him for whatever reason. It pulls you in so closely, like a moth to a flame. Regardless of what others say, you can still see the good in him. He's been nothing but kind, patient, and loving to you. So, really, that's all that matters to you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him.

Christian removes his sweatshirt, and your eyes trace over his tattoos. You run your hand over the one tattoo over his heart, your name.

"I'm so much better, now that I'm with you."

"I'm sure you know they're looking for you."

"I know," Christian sighs. "I'm also wanted for something. What is it this time?"

"Murder."

Christian stares into your eyes, and he can heart your heart beating fast. No one has ever cared about him more than you. Your unwavering loyalty is something he's searched for many years. Now, he's found exactly what he needs within you.

"Do you think I'm guilty?" Christian asks you.

"No, but if you did it, I know there was a reason."

"Good girl. You know your man oh too well," Christian praises you. He knows it's exactly what you need to hear in this moment.

Your lips curl into a smile, and you haven't looked away from him. He knows that nothing about him scares you. He's told you his deepest, darkest secrets. Because he knows he can trust you.

"I do. My best friend was just running their mouth talking about how I need to leave you alone. But, they don't know you like I do."

"Do you need me to handle that?"

"No, never that."

"We have some catching up to do. Don't we, angel?"

"Yes."

***

You turn on the shower and step into it first. Christian follows behind you. He presses you against the shower wall from behind. "My angel.. so pure. So innocent," he whispers into your ear.

Christian runs his hand down your back, enough to give you chills. You've missed feeling his touch against your skin.

"You know I'm far from innocent."

"Compared to me. You're a saint."

Christian attacks your neck with kisses. This instantly sends a warmth throughout your body. You've missed the way his lips feel against your skin. You don't care what happens when he's out of your sight. Because this man adores you, he'd do anything to protect you.

"Sweetness, tell me.." Christian pulls away from you and turns you around to face him. His gaze penetrates your eyes, searching for something unspoken. "Do you really love me?"

His eyes are full of emotions, and you can see the pureness in his question. But, at the same time, why would he question you this way? You've always supported him no matter what.

"Of course, I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"Even if I had to leave you for a bit?"

Your breath quickens, and you can feel your stomach churn. Is he going to up and leave you? Does this mean he's going to end things with you?

"Where are you going?" You twist your necklace.

Christian picks you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist as the warm water cascades down the two of you.

"I'm not sure. But, I'm leaving in 48 hours."

"Because of what I saw on the news?" You try to piece everything together. Did this mean that it was true? You didn't want to ask him what happened because you trusted him.

He promised you he would never do anything that would jeopardize his time with you. He stated that from the beginning. But, now, it felt like things were going differently.

"Yes."

"I'm coming with you."

"Hell no. I will get this sorted out. I will come back for you."

"No, I'm coming with you."

"Angel?"

"Yes."

"Don't I always come back for you?"

"Yes.. but."

"No, buts. Listen, you have to trust me. I will come back for you, okay?"

You nod. But, your fear is he's going to leave you.

"Angel, don't look so sad. I wish I could take you with me. It's going to pain me to leave you."

"Well let me taste you for the last time."

"Of course, angel."

Christian releases from his arms, and you get down on your knees. You look up at him.

He strokes your face and looks at you in such a loving way.

You hold your hands behind your back and swirl your tongue around his dick until he's halfway in your mouth.

You hum your favorite song and move your mouth up and down his length. This could be the last time you taste him, so you want to savor the moment.

You close your eyes and move faster and hear him moan. You love hearing him vocalize his satisfaction for you.

"Go deeper for me, angel," Christian instructs you, and you have no problem following instructions.

You take him deeper into your mouth, and he cradles the back of your head. He's moving with you to the point where you two are rocking as one.

At this moment, you are breathing through your nose because you only want to please him. You live to serve him. You are hopelessly devoted to him.

"Fuck.. just like this," Christian groans. "Don't stop, angel. God, you're so beautiful like this."

"Mmmhm," you barely manage to say because you have your mouth full and wouldn't want to have it any other way. Tonight has to count and hold you over.

"No one else can suck me the way you do. You're so amazing, angel," Christian continues to praise you, which encourages you to keep going because you know he's so close.

"You want this nut don't you?"

You nod without missing a beat, and both of his hands are on the back of your head. He's practically fucking your throat at this point.

He cums down your throat, and you swallow all of it.

Christian pulls you up to kiss you. He slips his tongue into your mouth and kisses you. As the kiss deepens, you can't help but run your fingers along your pussy only to find that it are dripping for him.

"Thank you for that amazing blow job, angel. You're always amazing."

"No problem."

Christian wraps his arms around you. "Mhmm.. I'm ready to feel all of you now. You want that, baby?"

"Yess.."

"How do you want me?"

"From behind.. like this." You turn around, place your hands against the shower wall, and arch your back.

Christian places his hand against your lower back and moves his dick along your entrance. "You know I love taking you from behind. Do you want me here or do you want back door."

"Here.. I want to feel you deep inside me. I prefer anal when I'm pegging you."

Christian kisses on the side of your neck. "I know baby.. next time when I come home. We can celebrate with pegging." He sucks on your neck and inches himself into you.

Feeling him inside of you feels like home. There's nothing like having him deep inside of you.

"You're so tight for me, angel," Christian whispers against your neck, kissing gently against the spot he just sucked on.

You moan out his name and enjoy him being inside of you again.

The feeling is euphoric, and you get lost in the moment of being one with your lover again. His hands cover and clasps with yours as he strokes into you.

You hope you celebrate with him, but you want to enjoy this moment. You arch your back a little more as he increases the pace. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure throughout your body. It feels too good. You deserve to experience this type of heaven on earth.

Christian holds you in place as he slows down with each backshot he gives you, and he reaches from behind and runs his hand down the front of your love nest. He moves to your clit and strokes it.

"Yesss, baby! I love when you rub my clit," you moan out.

"I know you do." Christian continues to rub it while you tighten around his dick. "My baby is close. Are you going to cum on my dick?"

"Mmhmm," you moan. But, at the point, you're already trembling from the combination of his teasing your clit and being buried inside you. The sensation is perfect. It's a feeling that never gets old. No matter how many times he gives you an orgasm, it always feels as good as the first time.

"So, be a good girl and cum for me."

"That's it.. baby. Cum on dick." He instructs you and talks you through it. You obey him easily. You release onto his dick. He's right there with you as he pumps into you until he cums inside you.

"Mmm.. thank you, baby," you say, trying to catch your breath.

"No, thank you angel. You were wonderful as always. I can't wait to celebrate with you when I come back."

If you enjoyed this please reblog. It helps other find my work.

Part 2

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cococharm · 5 months ago

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Just found your blog I’m so excited! Finally someone that writes for dpr!!!! Can I request something with dpr Ian. Whatever you want really maybe something cozy and cute ? -love Vivi

Shaping Love

Pairing: boyfriend!DPR Ian x reader Genre: fluff, romance, slice of life Warnings: established relationship Characters: 3320 Summary: After a long day, Christian and Y/n decide to go on a pottery date. AN: Thank you so much for requesting this, I hope you enjoy reading this. It’s my first time writing so I hope it meets your standards as I'm not confident in writing. (I rewrote this 4 times)

I glanced at Christian as we ventured into the pottery studio, excitement bubbling in my chest. The fragrance of clay and the peaceful murmur of the wheel occupied the room.

The instructor welcomed us with a warm smile, directing us to our stations. Christian looked around with childlike wonder, his eyes lighting up as he took in the tools and materials. I couldn't help but smile at his energy, feeling a surge of love for him.

We settled in front of our wheels after donning our aprons. The instructor gave us a brief demonstration, her hands moving skillfully to shape the clay. I watched, captivated by the transformation from a lump of clay to a lovely, delicate pot.

“Ready to give it a try?’’ Christian asked, his voice brimming with excitement.

I nodded, putting my hands on the wet clay. As the wheel began turning, Christian sat close to me, his hands cautiously working on his piece. We exchanged glances and laughed silently.

From the get-go, my attempts were awkward, the clay wobbled and collapsed under my touch. Christian chuckled next to me, his laugh a comforting sound. He was also struggling, his pot looking more like a bowl than a pot, but he was having fun and that's all that mattered.

He came closer and said, “Let me help you.” his hands covered mine, guiding my movement. Together, we coaxed the clay into a steadier structure, our hands working in a state of harmony.

The feeling of his hands over mine, strong yet gentle, sent a thrill through me. We were shaping the clay, and as it were, molding a piece of our relationship. The wheel spun smoothly, and the clay began to respond to our touch, rising and forming a simple but elegant shape.

“You're a natural,” Christian teased, his breath warm against my cheek.

“Only because you're helping me,” I replied, leaning into him.

As the instructor strolled by, she gestured approvingly at our progress. “You two make a great team,” She remarked.

Christian grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “We do, don't we?”

We worked on our pieces for a while longer, lost in the rhythmic motion and the tactile pleasure of the clay under our hands. Eventually, we both had something resembling pots, albeit a bit wobbly and imperfect.

“Not bad for our first try,” Christian said, inspecting his creation with a critical eye.

“I think they’re perfect,” I said softly, admiring the unique quirks of our pieces. “Very much like us.”

Christian gave me a tender look as he turned to face me. “I liked that. Imperfectly perfect.”

We carefully placed our pots on the drying racks, our hands canvassed in clay but our hearts full of warmth. The instructor offered to fire them for us, and we thanked her, already looking forward to seeing the finished products.

As we cleaned up, Christian reached out and took my hand, his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’m grateful that you’ve agreed to join me today,” he said, his voice earnest. “This was… special.”

I squeezed his hand, having a flood of affection toward this man who always found new ways to make our time meaningful. “It was perfect. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

The evening sun cast a golden glow on the streets as we left the studio hand in hand. The memory of our pottery date would be another cherished moment in the gallery of our love, a testament to our beauty of creating and growing together.

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maximura · 11 months ago

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Details of DPR IAN | For GQ Taiwan (2024)

#dpr ian #christian yu #GQ magazine #tattoos #dream perfect regime #for the 2 people who asked about Christian posts #i can't imagine him as an Idol #he's an example of a guy whose vision and intent just doesn't really fit the boxes of kpop #his whole life is a mood

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universalwhoreofthesouth · 11 months ago

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Break from Reality 2 - C.YU

Pairing: Mr. Insanity X afab! reader

Genre: chaos & fantasy

Warning(s): some violence, bizarre imagery, mr. insanity has a god complex, mito is mentioned

A/N: Finally giving the people what they want since I saw a good handful of people enjoyed it, which makes me happy 🤍

A/N: Based on “So I Danced” MV so watch it if you don’t get the reference and if you haven’t read Part. 1

I’ll be God

I’ll be god today.

“Where did you even get this old thing?” You look at the very outdated 1968 Cadillac that he somehow “found”, the tan coloring chipping into a tin gray.

“Hey! Don’t insult her like that! She still works” Ian defended, blowing the remaining dust off the hood of the car.

“Where are we even going?”

“Emerald city. I have important business there and you’re gonna help me!” he beamed, startling you once more.

“Help you with what? I don’t even know you!”

“Exactly which is why it’ll work! He doesn’t know you so you would be a good distraction”

“He? Who the h-” “Heads up!” he tosses you a brown sack, which you nearly dropped because it was unexpectedly heavy. You look inside the sack, seeing a pair of black heels, pearls, and dark cloth.

“And what am I supposed to do with this? I’m not putting this on”

“Oh but you will” he tilts his head, his smile not dropping in the slightest.

“No I do-” you suddenly feel something cut off your airways, stopping your sentence as you try to breathe.

“Now what was that~? You’re in my world little one so you’re going to do as I say, got that?” he grins sadistically. You were on the verge of blacking out then you felt the pressure release, waves of air filling up your lungs, knocking you to your knees as you violently cough, your body readjusting.

“Now let’s get going!”

♟️

You both were now in the old-timey car, riding alongside the dirt road for god knows how long, finally getting on the road to Emerald City. You were not at all happy. You were in the passenger seat, sitting in a black satin dress with matching heels and pearls the same size as jawbreakers. He didn’t even tell you what the so-called “business” was. You were trying to think of conclusions that would make sense but anything was possible in this world, he’s magic after all. You see Ian in the corner of your eye. His eyes were on the road, driving with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping against the steering wheel to an imaginary beat in his strange mind but you were a quite confused yet worried because his face was resting, his cheeky smile that was imprinted on his lips wasn’t present, replaced with a blank expression. It felt.. Weird but you kept your lips sealed, silently thanking God that he didn’t talk your head off on the way there.

Your eyes begin to droop from exhaustion, having no way to tell what time it was in this place. Just as you begin to drift away, hoping to escape this vivid nightmare-

“We’re here~” Ian sings, his maniacal grin appearing back on his face. Your eyes shoot up, seeing an upcoming “Welcome to Emerald City!” sign ahead. You look outside the window, admiring the liveness of the city. The buildings were tall and flashy, hued with many shades of green from mint to the color of basil leaves. As you viewed the scenery, you saw a golden statue of a man up ahead. The man was dressed in a suit with a fedora, the hat covering his face as he was posed in a sitting position.

“Is that the mayor of this town?” You asked, not familiar with the man. Ian went quiet…

Too quiet.

“Hello? Did you not hear me?” You turn your head back to him, trying to figure out what was his problem but you were taken aback by his new appearance. His tan skin was now paler, his comically big eyes shrunk, his once lengthy black hair was now cut into a blonde pixie cut. His lips were tainted raspberry blue and he was wearing a lime green suit with mulberry polka dots.

What the fuck..

#spotify #fantasy au #mr insanity #wonderland au #christian yu imagines #christian yu #dpr scenarios #dpr ian #dpr ian x reader #dream perfect regime

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badaleesbish · 10 months ago

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I have been literally so obsessed with DPR IAN lately. He is sooooooo fucking talented, OMG!!! He is so fascinating and creative, like the way his brain works makes me want to crawl into his head and just sit there. I love how he is so open about his disorder and doesn't let it take over him. He uses it to make BEAUTIFUL art and allows himself to be a help to Dreamers that may be going the same thing or something similar. I just love this man!!

#dpr ian #christian yu #dream perfect regime #dpr ian x reader #christian yu imagines #dpr ian imagines #christian yu x reader

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seokstrivia · 11 months ago

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Written In Pages

Summary: Sometimes, it’s for the best,

Work!AU | KHH M.List | Word count: 2.4K

Boss Christian Yu x Writer Reader - angst, old feelings, exes, new love vs old love, drama(?)

After slamming your laptop shut for the umpteenth time, you groaned in irritation and took the last sip of your wine.

Your dream job was to write articles for a magazine, specifically inspiring stories about everyday life situations. You disliked writing about new cafes and hotspots to visit in Seoul, South Korea on a hot summer day. Your boss, Christian Yu, was someone you despised.

You let out a sigh as you leaned back on your couch, feeling exhausted from working for long hours and staring at a bright screen. Despite the fatigue, you were able to enjoy the peacefulness of your apartment which was quietly enveloped by the sound of light rain tapping against the tall windows that offered a view of the brightly lit city at night. The cityscape was a sight to behold, with buildings and cars stretching out as far as the eye could see, and you found it captivating.

It felt surreal.

You struggled with the idea of writing this article for a while, but now, as it is almost 3 am, you just want to finish it and move on, without having to worry about it anymore.

You worked tirelessly on your article all night, only the clicking of your keyboard keeping you company. As the sky began to lighten just before 5 am, you finally completed your 12th and hopefully final draft. After sending it to your boss, you collapsed into your bed, exhausted.

—>

“Wow, you look like shit.”

“Shut up, Dabin,” you scowled while you pointed a pen at him, almost as if threatening to hurt him if he said another word. “I was up late working on an article.”

“Again?”

As you nodded your head, a yawn escaped your lips, but Dabin didn't seem too impressed. He was aware of your writing skills, and he knew that Ian, his best friend, also recognized your talent. Despite this, Ian never allowed you to demonstrate your best writing abilities.

It annoyed him.

“Do you want me to speak to...“

“No,” you cut him off knowing exactly what he was going to ask. It was his favourite question. “It’s fine.”

Dabin suspiciously leaned over you, face a lot closer than you were comfortable with, and stared into your eyes as if they had a different answer to the one you’d given him.

It made you laugh.

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” you genuinely smiled as you pushed his face away from yours.

The two of you discussed where to go for lunch and what you were in the mood for, which varied daily.

“Y/N, can I see you in my office?”

The sudden voice behind you caused you to drop the smile on your face. You quickly locked eyes with Dabin before shifting to see your boss standing behind you.

Ian didn't give you time to respond to his question since he was already on his way back to his office. His strides were long and swift as you hurriedly followed behind.

A sigh escaped your lips as you thought about all the terrible things he might say about the draft you sent just a few hours ago.

Christian's office exuded a sense of sophistication and elegance with its predominantly black theme. The black furniture and décor complemented the black walls, creating a sleek and modern atmosphere. The aesthetic aligned perfectly with Christian's personal style, which is characterized by his sharp black suits, crisp white shirts, and multiple decorated tattoos. Overall, the office was a reflection of Christian's impeccable taste and attention to detail.

There’s no denying that he was a handsome man.

“Do you enjoy working here?”

His voice was firm and almost intimidating, but it was nothing that you weren't accustomed to.

“Ye—“

“Answer me honestly,” he interrupted.

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips as he once again failed to listen.

It was annoying.

You gazed out of the window, avoiding eye contact as the rain poured heavily over the city. It was ironic that you had just written an article on what to do on a hot summer day.

“Y/N—“

"Ian," you sighed, interrupting him as he had interrupted you earlier. "I don't hate working here, and I want you to know that. I genuinely enjoy the people and the work that I do. But it feels like you never give me a fair chance to show you how good I am, or how much I love being here."

As you stood up, your eyes met Christian's dark and mysterious ones. You never really understood him, as he always kept his distance. Even when you were dating, he never let you get too close.

His eyes reminded you of the heartbreak you felt when he told you he needed to focus on work and being a boss. There was no sadness or remorse in his expression. He was emotionless.

You subconsciously took a step back as he took one towards you, both caught off guard. You were afraid of falling for him again, especially after the pain he had caused you.

“I think maybe I should find another company to write for.”

“No.”

“Ian—“

“Y/N,” his voice was stern. Cold. “I said no.”

A deep chuckle reverberated in his office. You stepped back and crossed your arms, "It's not up to you. I can do what I want."

He knew you were right, but he didn't want you to leave. He had already given you up once.

Here's a clearer version of the text:

"Will you stay if I let you write your own story?" he asked, trying to offer a bribe.

"Why?" you questioned him, catching him off guard. He had hoped that you would just say yes and leave it at that.

There was an uncomfortable silence as he stood his ground, looking at you intently, but he didn't offer an explanation.

He was being stubborn.

After a while, you looked away from him and said, "I'll stay. See you around, Mr. Yu."

Christian watched as you left his office. He let you walk away.

Again.

—>

It was another late night in the office. Ian had finally given you the green light to write your own story - something exciting, new, and inspiring. However, you were struggling to come up with an idea. You didn't have any unique experiences to discuss, except for your own heartache and the pain you had gone through, along with the emotions you had felt.

It had been more than a year since Ian had broken up with you. Now, you were in a much better place emotionally, and seeing him around the office didn't hurt as much as it did when the wound was still fresh.

Your experience of getting over a breakup could serve as a source of inspiration for many individuals out there who may be going through the same thing. You could write about how you coped with the situation and be honest in your narrative. The idea is to make your readers relate to you and feel that they are not alone in the world and that going through a breakup is a common experience that everyone faces at least once in their lifetime.

As you were lost in thought, a voice interrupted you, asking "How are you getting on?"

You glanced up to see Dabin holding a box of fried chicken and a pack of four beers. You couldn't help but smile as your stomach growled in hunger. You were grateful for your best friend's arrival.

"Thank god for you," you exclaimed, feeling much better now. "I'm starving."

The two of you were quick to get settled into the couches in the staff room; away from computers and cubicles and depressing grey walls.

"This is delicious," you moaned as you took another bite.

Dabin laughed in return, "I'm glad I can help during times like this."

Dabin was a really good friend.

"So, how's your writing coming along?" He asked.

"Fine."

Nodding his head, he asked, "what's it about?"

You took a sip of your drink before turning to face Dabin. It was obvious what he was doing.

"You can let Ian know the article's content will be revealed in my final draft, okay?"

"How did you know I was asking for him?"

You lay back on the couch, sighing as your eyes stared at the plain white ceiling. Dabin followed suit, resting his shoulder neatly against yours.

It was quiet.

There was nobody else in the building except for the two of you. Normally, nobody stayed back late. However, you enjoyed staying late because of the peaceful and quiet atmosphere. The lights would turn off automatically on a timer, leaving you with a breath-taking view of Seoul from above.

Being on the top floor definitely had its perks.

"He didn't want to end things with you, but he had no choice. He misses you," Dabin finally spoke.

You avoided eye contact and stated, "Everyone has a choice."

You were in a three-year relationship with Ian before he broke up with you. As time went on, your love for him grew stronger and you were convinced that he was the one.

But no.

On a frigid winter night, he arrived at your doorstep and broke up with you. Declaring that his work was his priority and that he wanted to become a boss his father could be proud of.

So, he married his job instead.

It was a horrible experience that left you feeling utterly shattered. A heavy weight seemed to sit on your chest, and no matter what you did, you couldn't shake off the feeling. You cried yourself to sleep that night, and dealing with the aftermath was so difficult that you had to take a month off work. Seeing him again was too much to bear after feeling so broken.

"I thought he was the one, Dabin," you expressed. "But after he broke up with me, I realized that I didn't really know him. He never let me get close to him, and he never opened up to me. I was blindly in love."

Dabin looked at you with sad eyes; it was the first time you had openly talked about your breakup.

Saturdays were your favourite day of the week. You could sleep in as long as your stomach allowed before getting too hungry. You didn't have anything on your to-do list. It was a day just for you to relax, unwind, and not think about anything or anyone for that matter.

However, on this particular Saturday, instead of being awakened by hunger, you were awakened by the doorbell.

You were confused as to who was turning up at your apartment this early on a Saturday. You quickly got out of bed, grabbed your slippers and dressing gown and headed to the door.

You didn't think to look through the peephole before opening the door.

"Hey."

His voice was deep.

"What are you doing here?" You blurted out before thinking.

Ian.

He ran his hand through his hair.

Then sighed. Deeply.

"Can we talk?"

You stared at him, completely gobsmacked. What the hell was he doing here?

"Ian, please go home," you declared, your voice quavering. "I don't want to talk to you right now."

He didn't allow you to close the door as he barged in and let it slam shut behind him.

"Please," he begged.

You witnessed an unusual display of emotion in his gaze, something completely foreign to you in all the time you'd known him.

This was new, and you were in shock. It was so unlike him to do this.

"There's nothing to talk about," you declared, finally breaking the silence.

Ian sighed again, except this time, he sounded annoyed, "just give me five minutes of your time. Please."

Upon not wanting to argue, you silently nodded and sat on your couch, wondering what he wanted to discuss.

"Dabin spoke to me," he began. "He told me about how I made you feel."

"Okay? And?"

"Do you hate me?"

You scoffed. Was he serious? This is what he wanted to ask you?

"No, Ian. I don't hate you," you said honestly. "But I don't like you either."

He rolled his eyes, and you smiled smugly.

"Ian, please get to the point," you stated, your annoyance palpable. He was ruining your favourite day of the week.

"If I proposed, would you have married me?" Ian asked as he sat next to you on the couch.

The shock in your eyes didn't go unnoticed.

You let out a nervous chuckle and moved away from him. He was sitting too close to you, which made you feel uneasy. It had been a year since the two of you had been this close to each other, and you didn't like it.

"Ian, we're not a good match-"

"But would you have said yes?"

As you felt your heart beating harder against your chest, you began to feel nauseous and the sensation of wanting to throw up arose.

Why was he asking you this all of a sudden?

"Y/N, would you have said-"

"Shut up!" you snapped, taking a few steps back as you stood up. "You always have to have your own way, win arguments- even need to get the last word in. God forbid anyone says anything to you."

You were pacing the room, but he was listening for once.

He was actually listening.

"We were together for three years, I loved you unconditionally and fell more in love with you every day. It wasn't until you broke up with me that I realised I'd been dating a fucking rock."

"Y/N, I'm so sorry" he apologised as he stood up.

"Save it," you sighed.

His eyes searched yours, seeking answers, searching for any sign of love.

"I would have said yes. Of course, I would've" you told him honestly. His lips curved into a smile, but faltered when you added, "but not now."

He didn't say anything except, 'sorry' before leaving, making sure to slam the door shut behind him. Except this time, he was the one who was walking away and you were the one who let him.

That night you decided to quit your job, there was no way that it was healthy for either of you to go on like this.

He didn't question it this time or stop you, he didn't even look at you. Your words had hurt him just like he'd hurt you. This wasn't what you wanted, but realistically what else could you do?

It just wasn't written in pages for you two to be together.

And maybe, that was okay.

A/N Pls go easy on me with this, its my first time writing since being on my long ass hiatus, but I hope you still enjoyed <3 xoxo

#dpr ian #dpr imagines #christian yu #christian yu scenarios #christian yu imagines #Khiphop #khh #khh scenarios #khh imagines #khiphop imagines #khiphop scenarios #khipkhop #dream perfect regime

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dreamperfectarchives · 11 months ago

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Sweet Silence

Summary: Dabin makes a bet with his friends without thinking about the consequences and gets into trouble.

Or boys will be boys, Ugh.

Bet!AU | M.List | Word Count: 1.6k

DPR Live x Reader: Angst, fluff, miscommunication, your friends with other khh artists. drama. arguments, men are dumb!

A/N sorry, it's on the shorter side but please enjoy!

How it started;

"If you accept this bet, y/n might not speak to you ever again."

Dabin rolled his eyes.

"He knew you better than anyone, and he believed that you wouldn't break up with him over a bet. Especially since he would explain everything in detail once the bet was over and he had won, proving those guys wrong.

“Okay, you have three days to complete this whole game, so that means no sleeping and no texting your girlfriend,” Ian smirked as he explained the rules to Dabin. “We’ll come into your flat to make sure you’re fed and hydrated, so you don’t die.”

Your boyfriend had a smile on his face, feeling thrilled at the idea of proving his friends wrong and winning the bet. However, he got too caught up in the excitement and forgot to inform you beforehand that he would be gone for three days while the dare was taking place.

“Bring it on, guys!”

He didn’t think that the outcome, in the end, would be so… terrifying.

How it went;

“You know what’s weird?” you said as you grabbed a drink out of your fridge. “I haven’t heard from Dabin since last night.”

Hoody sat comfortably on the floor, intently flipping through the pages of a fashion magazine. Meanwhile, Sohee carefully painted her nails with a deep and rich shade of red.

“He’s probably just hanging out with the guys,” one of them answered.

The other simply hummed in agreement.

"Oh, that's a nice colour," you complimented Sohee before sitting next to her on the couch, being careful not to disturb her. "You're probably right, but, weirdly, he's taking so long to text me."

Hoody closed her magazine over, before grabbing her drink off the coffee table, “you know what you need?” She suggested after taking a sip. “A girls night with us! We can invite Lee Hi and DeVita too.”

You let out a sigh, the idea did sound like fun. It had been a while since you all hung out together and had a good time. Besides, maybe Dabin needed a break with his friends, just like you needed one with yours.

“Okay,” you agreed. “Let’s do it, but we’re staying in.”

Sohee laughed as she closed the nail polish bottle, “we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The evening was a relaxing and enjoyable one, filled with laughter, good company, and indulgences like wine, face masks, and friendly chatter about relationships. We rearranged the furniture to create a cosy space on the floor, where we could lounge on blankets and pillows and fully unwind.

The thought of your boyfriend not messaging you all day, even after you texted him to ask how he was, was unsettling. It was unlike him to go this long without responding, even when he was with his friends. It just didn't make sense to you.

Was he mad at you? Did you do something wrong?

A sigh escaped your lips as you finished your drink. Hoody was the only one who stayed after everyone went home. It had been a lovely night, full of laughter and endless fun, but now you were getting annoyed.

You sent another text.

An hour later, still no response.

It was almost 3 am and Hoody was sitting on the couch, scrolling through channels, hoping to find something interesting to watch on TV. As time passed, you seemed to become more and more irritated, letting out a sigh which Hoody took as a sign to turn off the TV and encourage you to go to bed.

While watching Hoody remove her makeup, you asked, "Do you think he's breaking up with me?" as you sat on the edge of the bathtub.

“That boy is completely in love with you,” she scolded, looking at you through the mirror. “Don’t be stupid.”

You laughed at the scowl on her face, “Sorry, it’s just unlike him, you know?”

She nodded. “If he doesn’t text or call you tomorrow, you can be as angry as you want, and I’ll be just as angry with you. Deal?”

��Deal!”

After Dabin failed to message or call the next day, you and Hoody sulked and complained about inconsiderate men. She was just as angry as you, she’d promised she would be the night before, you were so thankful for having a friend like her.

“How can you go two days without messaging the love of your life?” She shouted, throwing popcorn at the TV as the protagonists kissed in the rain. “I’m so pissed off right now.”

You laughed at her sudden outburst, “It’s okay, I've decided to give him the silent treatment until he apologises.”

Hoody seemed to like your idea, and let you know she was only a call away if you needed her before she left as she had work the next day.

Now, it was just you and your thoughts.

The day had passed by quickly, as it always did when you were hanging out with your friends. However, now you’d found yourself unsure of what to do. You couldn't even talk to Dabin, as he wasn't talking to you in the first place. Besides, you didn't want to speak to him until he apologised.

A sigh parted your lips as you stared at the multiple messages you’d sent the night before, how annoying, you thought.

You started typing out a message, fingers moving swiftly across the keyboard as you let your thoughts pour out, you wanted him to know how he made you feel and what you were going to do about it before muting his messages and tossing your phone to the side.

On the other hand:

Dabin was clueless about the impact of his actions on your feelings. He was engrossed in his video games and consuming the food that his buddies had brought for him. He convinced himself that he only had to endure one more day, and then he would see you and clarify how he had won the bet.

However, the happiness he had been feeling vanished as quickly as it had come when he saw your recent message. The message read, 'I'm not sure why you're not talking to me, but I know I haven't done anything wrong to deserve this. If this is your way of breaking up with me, then so be it. But at least say something instead of going cold.'

As he tried to call you, the call went straight through to voicemail, and his heart fell through his stomach. You thought he was breaking up with you, and he was now panicking. He couldn't bear the thought of never speaking to you again, and he realised that Ian was right.

This bet was not a good idea.

He moved quickly, leaving a mess behind as he shoved his shoes on and grabbed his keys to make his way over to your place. The bet wasn't worth winning if it meant losing you. This whole situation was stupid to begin with.

He arrived at your apartment just before midnight, panting heavily as he knocked on the door, praying for you to answer.

When you opened the door, you appeared annoyed. Your expression grew even more irritated when you saw him standing there. He watched as you crossed your arms and visibly became smaller under your glare.

“What do you want?” You argued.

He quickly entered the room and closed the door behind him, saying, "I'm here to apologise. It's not what you think."

You stepped back as he tried to reach out to you. "What is it then?" you asked.

“It was a stupid bet–”

"Excuse me, what?!" you interrupted, feeling angrier.

"It was Ian's idea. He provoked me by saying that I couldn't go three days without texting you or sleeping, and I wanted to prove him wrong," he rambled. "I know it was stupid, and I'm so sorry for putting you through this."

"I can't believe this! Did you really put me through all of this emotional turmoil just for a bet?" You unfolded your arms and settled your hands on your hips, staring at your partner in disbelief. You let out a deep sigh and collapsed onto the couch, feeling defeated. "I honestly thought you were going to break up with me."

Dabin knelt in front of you, taking your hands into his. He kissed the back of each hand and gazed deeply into your eyes. "I am so sorry for what I did," he spoke in a soft tone. "But I promise you, I'm not breaking up with you. Ever! I want to marry you one day. I'm so in love with you."

He could tell you were still upset with him, but the faint smile appearing on your lips told him that the two of you were going to be okay.

“You’ve got a lot of making up to do,” you told him to which he nodded in agreement. “Also, Ian is in a lot, and I mean, a lot of trouble.”

Dabin laughed at the mischievous grin on your face before jumping onto the couch next to you and pulling you into his arms, “god, I missed you.”

How it ended:

“So, you failed,” Ian smirked.

Dabin shrugged as you walked into the room where he and Ian were sitting, then smiled at you.

“Ian, you are in a lot of trouble,” you said, watching the smirk fall off his lips. “I’m not sure why you’re sitting there so smugly.”

Ian appeared visibly frightened as he contemplated the severity of his situation.

Let's just say your friends had a lot to say.

#dpr live scenarios #dpr live imagines #dpr live #hong dabin scenarios #hong dabin imagines #hong dabin #korean hip hop #khh #khh scenarios #khh imagines #khiphop scenarios #khiphop imagines #khiphop #dream perfect regime

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dalicia-fay · 2 years ago

Text

Not my pic, credit to the original owner.

That shirt looks like it's made out of boyfriend material...I'll see myself out..

Stressful Day- DPR Live

Today was one of those days; Sarah called out sick again, so your asshole of a boss decided to dump her workload into your lap to take care of. Deadlines, blablabla, teamwork, blablabla, more deadlines. That was all you could hear your boss say as he handed you more paperwork. "Great, another late night," you thought to yourself as you sat it on your desk next to your own workload. Placing your earbuds in your ears, you picked up where you left off, determined to finish everything today so you would not have to return to it tomorrow.

Before you knew it, the clock on your computer showed 12am ‘shit, worked till midnight again’. You stood up and stretched, your body aching from all the time you spent sitting in that cheap little black office chair. You cleaned up your workspace, saved all the files you were working on, and turned off your computer. You picked up your purse and water bottle that your boyfriend, Dabin, sent with you this morning because "you gotta stay hydrated, babygirl" his words echoed in your head. He was always worried about your wellbeing and you his, considering you both tend to work until ungodly hours when work requires it.

Walking out of the building and hearing the exterior doors' automatic lock click made a small smile start to pull at your lips while you stood momentarily in the cool night air, letting out an exhale that felt like it had been trapped in your chest all day. You were ready to be home and curled in bed with your boyfriend. With that warm, fuzzy thought in mind, you made your way to your car to make your way back home.

- - -

Walking into your apartment, you locked the door behind you before kicking off your black leather pumps that had been suffocating your feet all day. ‘That damn dress code is going to be the death of me.’ you thought while untucking your blouse from your dress pants, and you walked tiredly into your little kitchen. Opening the fridge, you began the hunt for something to eat, not noticing the male figure quietly sneaking up from behind you.

Before you realized what was going on, you felt hands slither around your waist, making you jump as you turned to look at the culprit. As you turned, Dabin picked you up, pinned your body to the now-closed fridge, and wrapped your legs around his waist. "Hey baby" he said with that signature smirk on his face, "Dabin, what the fuck?! Don’t sneak up on me like that!" You yelled, more surprised than anything but wanting him to feel guilty for his actions. Laughing a bit at your reaction, Dabin took a hand off your leg, gently caressing your face as he laughed, "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just missed my girl that's all." Moving your hands from his chest, you clasped them together against the back of his neck, playing with his short hair.

He always knew how to make you completely forget about the outside world, especially after a long day of work. ‘It’s like he can sense it,’ you thought as you leaned into his hand. "I missed you too" you said softly. "Today was an absolute shitshow," you sighed, running a hand through your hair, one of the many signs that signaled to Dabin that your work day was incredibly stressful. “Ah, well then...” Dabin spoke as he began carrying you to the living room, snagging a couple snacks and drinks along the way. “Tell me all about it, and don’t leave out any details!” He said this with emphasis on the details, as if you had watched the next episode of his favorite TV show without him.

You and your boyfriend sat down on the couch, and you made yourselves comfortable by cuddling up on his lap. You then proceeded to recount the most frustrating aspects of your day at work, going into as much detail as possible. As you spoke, Dabin sat in content silence, humming and nodding in response to you every so often, so you knew he was listening to every word that you said.

---

After your rather lengthy rant, you laid your head on Dabin's chest and let go of the day's stress while listening to his heartbeat. "Thank you," you said in almost a hushed tone, Dabin barely hearing you. "For what?" he asked, gently rubbing his hands along your back. "For listening, being here for me, and simply being you," you replied. When you lifted your head to look your loving boyfriend in the eyes, you noticed a smile and blush on his face. "Of course, Y/N, I will always be there for you, no matter what."

Leaning in to give him a kiss, you smiled as you felt him smile into it. Pulling away after a few moments, you laid your head back on his chest. His hands continued to stroke your back in a soothing manner until both of you fell asleep.

---

(I hope you all enjoy this kind of short imagine...I will work on writing longer ones from here on out. Feel free to request anything and I’ll try to get to it as quick as possible! Thanks loves!!)

~Dalicia

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f1tyreslightmyfyre · 1 year ago

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Immortal Artistry - Ch. 4

Series Main List

A Vampire AU F1 Fic Featuring Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader, George Russell x Fem!Reader, hints of Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader, Lestappen, Sebchal, and Sainzell (or Russainz?)

Also on AO3

Ch. 4 Warnings: Language; stalker behavior; abduction; vampire blood violence and thrall; WWII references to Hitler and Nazi regime; non-graphic violence, murder and death; reader panic attack

A/N: Thank you for all the love on this fic!! This one holds a special place in my heart, so hope y'all enjoy ❤️

2023

Just a dream.

Only a dream.

You have to keep reminding yourself. Because thinking any differently just… rots your stomach.

It doesn’t help that it’s all so vivid. You can still see the handsome features of Max’s sharp profile in the parking garage lot lights. You can still hear Charles’ mellifluous tones inside his elegant home. You can still remember the crippling fear followed by blinding relief.

… And that’s when you woke up in your bed. Utterly alone. Utterly discombobulated. Utterly just… exhausted.

The workday hasn’t treated you any better, unfortunately. The company is still evaluating their options after Xavier’s passing and you’re supporting however they ask you to. Somehow, it only feels like your workload has tripled, though. At least, it helps keep you distracted from… well, whatever happened last night.

“Just a dream.”

With a sigh, you take another sip of your tea, letting the heat and herbal flavor wash over your tongue. After leaving the office, the last thing you wanted to do was go back to your disconcertingly empty apartment, and the coffee shop around the corner has always been a favorite. With cushy chairs and secluded nooks, it’s a perfect place for you to keep working through your email backlog long after the setting sun paints the sky black.

And to keep you from not dwelling on the unsettling memories of Charles’ handsome smile or Max’s broad shoulders. Or the inexplicable fact that George seemed to be the whole reason that they… well, that you supposedly dreamed this crazy dream.

“Just a dream.”

With another sigh, you rub at your stiff neck and glance up at the ceiling. Your muscles pop and creak with the motion, relaxing even as your mind continues to churn. Just what the hell are you going to do now? Do you do anything? What even can you do? It wasn’t real, right? It didn’t happen, right?

Right??

You glance back down at your laptop, reaching for your tea when a sudden knock on the window makes you jump. With wide eyes, you turn and the sight makes your stomach drop to your feet. George’s handsome, smiling face peers down at you through the glass as he waves enthusiastically. Words fail you as you sit, just stunned to see him so… so suddenly. He motions towards himself and around the building, and your heart rate jumps as he walks towards the door.

Your mouth goes dry at the implication, and quickly you debate if you can chug your tea and pack your belongings quick enough… but no such luck.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a night owl.” George says with a kind smile as he approaches your small table.

Despite the unease churning in your stomach, you can’t bring yourself to be rude. “I’m not… at least, not usually anyway.” Your offer a small smile. “My boss preferred early morning meetings.”

George’s face softens with concern. “I can’t imagine how hard of an adjustment it must be for you… I don’t think I would be able to set foot in the building again if my boss died.” He nods at the chair opposite you. “May I join you?”

Your anxiety ratchets to a whole new level, and you work a dry swallow down your throat. Why are you so ridiculously nervous? It was just a dream… it was, right? “S-Sure.” You say with a nod, exhaling a heavy sigh. “I’m just… just trying to wrap some things up.”

“Oh, man, tell me about it,” George sighs in return, gracefully sitting opposite. “It’s like the work never ends, I swear. How many people can possibly have so many legal troubles all at once?”

A smirk lifts the corner of your mouth. “It is a bit crazy… seems like it’s a byproduct of our modern world. Every time you buy something, you buy the right to sue someone, I guess.”

“Except that’s the funniest part.” George laughs softly. “People don’t even know what they’re buying. Each time they blindly click on ‘I agree�� in the terms and conditions boxes, they could be agreeing to sell their firstborn, for all they know.” He shakes his head as his face falls. “It’s sad how many case reports I write where the answer is just to quote some paragraph of the vendor’s terms agreement and then, case closed.”

You hum in agreement. “That’s why we get paid the big bucks, right?”

George scoffs. “Yeah, right. Maybe someday… or maybe if I was my boss….” He trails off, and silence hangs between you. His blue eyes linger on your face, and you quickly glance down at your laptop, suddenly unable to stop nagging words that churn in your brain.

“And paramount for your own safety, never look him in the eyes.”

Another spike of anxiety stabs through you as you wet your top lip.

“Forgive my asking,” George says quietly. “But are you alright? You look… unwell.”

Your heart lodges in your throat as you scramble for words. “I’m fine, I just….” Your palms turn sweaty against your laptop as you refuse to look up. “It was just a day, you know.”

“It’s more than that, I think.” George’s shadow shifts closer on the table. “The dark circles under your eyes speak to at least one sleepless night.”

“I-I didn’t sleep well last night. Hence, the bad day today.”

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Sounds like you should call it a night – may I… as corny as this may sound,” he says bashfully. “May I walk you home?”

An anxious sigh escapes you, and you can’t hold back. “Look, George – that’s really sweet of you, and you’re very thoughtful for asking but I… well, I don’t know if we should speak anymore.”

A stunned beat of silence passes, and you chance a glance up to catch the surprised set of his mouth. “My goodness,” he says, more bewildered than offended. “That seems so sudden, but look, whatever I’ve done, I fully apologize – I never meant to offend you or intrude. You could have just told me no when I asked to join you.”

“I know I could have, and I’m sorry about that. It’s just been… hard, lately. And I don’t…” you sigh heavily. “Ugh, I don’t know what to think.” Bracing your elbows on the table, you drop your head in your hands, grasping for a moment of clarity. If your meeting with Charles and Max wasn’t the dream you think is, then just why should you believe them over George? After all, it was Charles and Max who maybe kidnapped you last night, and George has done nothing but offer you kind support at every turn.

Perhaps that should make him all the more suspicious.

A chilled hand comes to rest gently against yours still holding your head. George’s skin is soft and his fingers firm as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “Again, if you’ll forgive me,” he murmurs. “It looks like the last thing you need is to be alone right now. Perhaps an ear for your troubles is just what you need.”

“I think I just need to go to bed.” You say to the tabletop, not thinking about the tender brushes of his thumb against your hand.

“Well, if you’d really like… I could help with that, too.”

Your head jerks up, a flush rising in your cheeks at his blatant innuendo. Despite all his proper manners to date, he doesn’t look the least bit ashamed as the hint of a wicked smirk lifts his lips. It tugs a flustered smile to your own face as you withdraw your hands and shake your head. “I… definitely don’t think that’s a good idea,” you sigh and go for broke. “I was warned about you, you know.”

His eyebrows climb to his hairline. “Warned about me? Oh, no,” he laughs incredulously. “By whom? It couldn’t possibly be someone at work… I haven’t been there long enough…”

“It was…” you pause as you scramble to answer. “Err, my boyfriend.”

George fixes you another look of astonishment and you deliberately focus on a point over his shoulder. “No way… that’s just insane you’re actually dating one of my mates and he never told me. Well, come on – now I have to know!” His face brightens with an amused laugh. “Is it Lewis? Or Mick?”

You nibble your lip, shaking your head. “No.”

“Well, how about Fernando? Or… maybe Charles?”

Your spine stiffens as your breath catches. Just why the fuck did he say Charles? It’s not possible that he just conjured that name out of thin air. There’s no way in hell that should have happened… coincidences like that just don’t happen.

Do they?

Your stomach sours as your mind races into overdrive. Oh, fuck, what have you done? Have you just ruined everything?

“So, it is Charles.” George says with a definitive edge, and you dart your hopefully not-too panicked gaze up to him. But clearly, the look on your face has told him everything he needs to know as he fixes you with a suddenly hard, assessing stare.

You force your eyes closed, quickly turning your head. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, and God, you need to leave. Now.

George clucks his tongue as he shifts forward in his chair. “I must confess that’s disappointing. Both of him and yourself.” He shakes his head as his mouth tightens with resolve. “I really thought you were smarter than that. Smart enough to see through him… to see that what he’s doing is just wrong.”

“I don’t have the first clue what he’s doing… or what you’re talking about.” You say, shaking your head, frustration tightening your voice. “I don’t have a fucking clue about anything going on here!”

“But he gave it to you. You have it, don’t you? Xavier didn’t have it.”

Fear ripples down your spine, mixing with your confusion. “I-I don’t have anything… he’s given me nothing.”

George’s sharp gaze runs you up and down as his nostrils flare. “Yeah, I can see that, but that doesn’t mean you don’t know where it is.”

He moves faster than you can blink and the breath punches from your lungs at the impact. You’re on your feet, held by the impossible strength of his slender arms as your mind spins. Your back connects with the solid wall as he cages you close, and while the impact is gentle, the rush of motion leaves your vision blurred. A cry lodges in your throat as his hand finds the smooth skin of your neck, pinching off the sound. Your hands try to claw at him, but he’s too strong and you’re too trapped.

Some distant part of your mind wonders why any of the other patrons in the shop aren’t rushing to your aid, but it’s drowned by the panic that threatens to consume you.

A whimper escapes your lips as you pry at the iron grip of his hands. “Please… George, I don’t-”

“And it doesn’t matter.” His voice drips with wicked sin as he hovers by your ear, so close to feel the puffs of his words on your skin. Because he doesn’t breathe… he doesn’t. “Your fear smells delectable,” he murmurs as you tremble. “I imagine it must taste even better.”

“N-no,” you gasp as a tear slides down your cheek. “Please, don’t…”

Another tear rolls down your cheek as he nuzzles along the exposed side of your neck, and you feel the scrape of teeth along your skin. Terror grips you tight as you claw at his shoulder, desperate to flee, helplessly caught in the trap of his embrace.

“Were you this frightened for Charles, hmm?” He pulls back just enough to reveal the deep sapphire tint of his eyes and sharp, pointed canines that steal your breath. Your eyes go wide, fixated on the unnaturally lethal teeth as he holds you closer. He hums in open appreciation as he lowers his head. “I can’t imagine how he resisted you…”

His cool lips seal against your skin before the solid weight of him is ripped away. You draw a shuddering gasp as the weight of him lifts from your throat and you watch with blurred vision. The face from your dream - Max - stands just a little shorter than George but seemingly more powerful as he wrenches the slender man around as if he weighs nothing. Max’s superhuman strength dominates the rapid confrontation until George lays on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

Tears stream freely down your cheeks as you gulp for breath, wrapping your arms around yourself. God, you’ve never been attacked like that… or assaulted, or so close to being… well, what exactly was George going to do to you? His teeth… fuck, you’ve never seen teeth like that, either. It’s like… like something out of fantasy.

Or horror.

Incredulity mixes with the confusion and terror and panic overloading your system as you heave for breath through uncontrollable sobs.

“Careful, hey - just calm down.” Max’s disconcertingly familiar voice echoes above the roar of blood in your ears. “You’re alright. He didn’t get you.”

“But I don’t -” You gasp as you exhale another rushed, tearful breath. “I don’t know what’s happening. I didn’t do… anything!”

“Yeah, I know,” Max nods with an apologetic shrug. “You’re… collateral damage, I suppose.”

Another sob wracks your fame as you struggle to gulp down air. “That’s not helping!”

“Then, what will?” Max counters, glancing around before he motions down at George’s motionless figure. “He won’t bother you for a while yet, and no one else here will remember this.”

You raise your hands to your head as a splitting ache threatens to crack your skull open. “That’s not… what I meant…. This - this is so fucked up!”

“Come on, you - you should really calm down.” Max tries again as he steps forward, and you instantly step back.

You have to keep the distance between you. You can’t let him get you. You can’t let him play you like George… you can’t let him take you like he did last night… you can’t… you just can’t -

“Breathe,” Max’s voice suddenly sounds far away, faint over a growing buzz in your ears. “It won’t help if you hyperventilate -”

Darkness consumes you.

1943

Ever since the Spanish Inquisition, Carlos has lost his taste for religion.

Perhaps it’s because he was arrested off the street with no explanation. Perhaps it’s because the priests drove needles under his fingernails to get his confession for sins he didn’t commit. Perhaps it’s because he was sentenced to death by purifying fire by the very church he spent his life honoring.

But perhaps it’s because he was saved by a devil masquerading as an agent of heaven. And that devil gave him a whole new life.

Not that Carlos still considers his sire to be a devil. Nor himself, for that matter. 517 years have long given him perspective and patience to understand the identity of ‘vampire’.

Even though his eternal existence is confined to nightfall and subsists feeding from mortals, he still tries to make the most of it. Over the centuries, he finds that his appetite for contribution far exceeds his appetite for confrontation – and that’s what leads him to Italy.

Or what’s left of it.

The Allied advance towards Rome has stalled in the harsh winter months, unable to break through the heavily fortified Nazi lines. Wounded soldiers pour in from the front lines around the clock, and no one asks Carlos any questions as he tends to them by candlelight. The pungent odors of death and decay don’t bother him, and the sight of blood has long stopped tempting him.

But if he’s honest with himself – as he lays for dreamless rest in the wee hours of dawn – it’s the men’s agonized cries that haunt him the most.

Perhaps he’s just a glutton for punishment. Perhaps Catholic guilt never abandoned him after all. Perhaps he is just too empathetic.

He doesn’t let it slow him down, though. Wearing a soiled uniform from a fallen soldier, he moves among the dim shadows, surveying the rows of wounded men trying to sleep. Coughs permeate the air, combined with low whispers, whimpers and moans – there’s precious little peace to be found, but somehow, Carlos knows this is where he belongs.

A soldier’s high-pitched gasp echoes in the crude tent. It’s closely followed by a moan and cry of anguish, and Carlos weaves through the cots towards the source of the sounds. The man’s fingers clench with a white-knuckled grip on the bedcovers as he writhes in obvious pain. Carlos doesn’t know what brought on the sudden fit, but there’s precious little that he can do for the soldier. Except….

“Here, be still.” Carlos shushes quietly, reaching a hand down to cup the soldier’s youthful face. “Look at me… just at me.” His gaze connects with the panicked agony in the man’s hazel eyes, and Carlos reaches out.

The soldier falls quiet, stilling against the bedcovers as Carlos’ thrall takes hold. Gently, he eases the soldier’s head down against the pillow. “Descansa ahora, mi hijo.” Carlos whispers, satisfied as the man’s eyes drop closed before he moves his hand down to the poor excuse for a blanket and resettles it over the soldier’s gaping uniform. Most of the shoulder fabric has been cut to make way for the doctors and bandages, and there’s little else to ward off the invasive winter’s cold.

“I thought Spain was neutral.” A British accented voice calls out softly. “Yet you wear a British uniform.”

Carlos turns and finds another soldier propped against his flat pillow, staring at him with sharp ice blue eyes. Most of the mortals seem content to ignore him, but through the grime marring the man’s face, Carlos can read the open curiosity. “I’m Spanish through my father, and British through my mother.” Carlos says, reciting the easy and familiar falsehood. “So, here I am.”

The blue-eyed soldier blinks up at him. “It’s obvious that you have a way with people.” His gaze slides down at the now quietly dozing soldier. “Not everyone can do that.”

Carlos shrugs as he steps over towards the soldier. “I’ve been told I have a gift for helping people.” He reaches down, tucking the blanket tighter around the man’s legs and the scent hits him. Gangrene always tinges blood with a rotten musk, and if this soldier hasn’t lost his leg yet, he soon will. Carlos swallows the thought as he gently arranges the blanket around the festering wound. “You should be sleeping.”

“In this place?” The soldier replies with a scoff and a weak shake of his head. “Yeah, that’d take a miracle.”

True enough, dark circles sag under his blue eyes, not helped by the sharp angles of his gaunt face. Carlos blinks down at him as he speaks. “How long have you been here?”

A baffled smile cracks the Briton’s face. “Are you serious, mate? Time has no relevance in hell.”

“This is not hell.” Carlos counters with a quick shake of his head. “I think Hell would be more merciful than this.”

“Well… I’ll let you know when I get there.” The soldier’s eyes drop closed as a hard swallow works down throat. “It’s gangrene, they say. Lack of supplies prevents them from amputating, and maybe I should be grateful for that, but now… I’m just waiting here to die.”

“Everyone here is just waiting to die.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t seem to bother you.”

“Humans have been dying for centuries and will continue to do so, even without global war.”

The soldier nods as his mouth pinches to a tight, frustrated line. “Then, may flights of angels sing me to my rest.”

“Shakespeare.” A fond smile comes to Carlos’ face. “Not many people quote him anymore.”

The soldier arches a brow. “Did they ever?”

Carlos nods. “Around the 18th century, I think it was – his plays were very popular throughout the continent.”

“You must be a historian, then.”

“Something like that.”

The Briton’s blue eyes narrow. “And here I thought you were a doctor.”

“Whatever I am, I’m certainly not that.” Carlos says, glancing up as he overhears a gurgled cry above the other sounds of human noises. “Now, you should really try and get some rest… what’s your name?”

The corner of the soldier’s mouth lifts with a wry smirk. “Dead Man Walking… or rather, Laying.” He glances up at Carlos. “What’s yours?”

An answering smirk tugs to Carlos’ face. “I’ll tell you tomorrow after you sleep.”

“If I’m still here, that is.”

Carlos runs his gaze over the prone man before nodding definitively. “You will be.” He rests an encouraging hand on the man’s thigh. “I promise.”

“Maybe I was wrong.” The soldier says the following night. “You’re not a historian or a doctor… you’re a philosopher.”

Carlos shakes his head as his brow furrows with suspicion. “You’re quite intent on finding out what I am.”

The man shrugs weakly. “I’ve had little else to do but watch, and talking with you last night was the most stimulating conversation I’ve had in ages, and you’re… you’re different.” He tilts his head as if trying to understand. “Somehow, you don’t just look, but instead you see. You don’t just touch, instead you feel. It’s obvious that you care, but you… you’re so indifferent to it. As if you know it couldn’t possibly touch you-”

“And you’re far too perceptive for your own good.” Carlos cuts him off swiftly, stunned by the gravity of the soldier’s words. Rarely has he ever met such a keen mortal. Rarely has anyone ever observed him so closely. As the hunter used to stalking his prey, the realization is unnerving and perhaps troubling. Has he been too obvious? Would others start asking questions? Would he need to relocate to a different unit before long?

“I’m dying and you know it.” The soldier says quietly. “What does it really matter what I am?”

Carlos cuts him with a sharp glare in the dim candlelight. “Everyone matters. Every soul at every moment, no matter how long their moment.”

The soldier glances around the tent in contemplation as the sounds of life and death echo around them. When those blue eyes reconnect with Carlos’, they hold something infinitely sad. “My name is George. George Russell.”

“Carlos.” For once, he doesn’t hesitate to give his real name. “Carlos Sainz.”

“What do you suppose happens after we die?” George asks two nights later. Fever flushes his skin, and his breathing holds the faintest waiver. The putrid odor of gangrene drowns out every other scent as Carlos approaches his bedside.

Honestly, it’s a question Carlos has wondered about for 500 years as countless generations rise and fall before his eyes. He doesn’t know if he’ll get to learn the answer for himself, but he’s hardly the person to ask. “I can call for a priest, if you like.” He answers softly. “I’m afraid I… wouldn’t really know what to say otherwise.”

George’s eyes drop closed, exhaustion evident in every line of his face. “I just hope it’s warm, you know… on the other side. I don’t care if that means heaven or hell.”

Something about that gnaws at Carlos’ heart. He doesn’t know why George has gotten so under his skin, but he can’t recall the last time he was so taken with a mortal. So taken that he… “What if I told you,” he starts carefully. “That death doesn’t have to be the end. That it can be… a transformation.”

George snorts faintly. “Then, I would ask if you’re sure you aren’t a priest.” A tremor seizes his voice as he rasps for breath. “Isn’t that what they all say? ‘Death is just a beginning….’”

“Mortals have always found that thought comforting.”

George’s blue eyes go wide despite his weakened state, staring up at Carlos with newfound, bewildered realization. “Mortals… implying that you’re….” His voice trails off as a visible swallow works down his throat. “I knew there was something off about you, but for the life of me… I couldn’t place it.”

A sad lift comes to the corner of Carlos’ mouth. “You asked me if I was a historian, or a doctor, or a philosopher – I’m not any of those things.” He shakes his head gently. “I’m just someone who has lived over five centuries of lifetimes.”

“Five centuries….” George echoes in a faint, rattling whisper. “That… that must be… nice.”

“You can judge that for yourself… if you want.” The unspoken offer hangs in the air as Carlos holds George’s gaze, heavy with the gravity of intention. He’s careful to hold back his thrall, though – this needs to be George’s unimpaired decision.

Another swallow works down George’s throat and his lungs rattle with fluid as fever burns. “If I want… to become like you…” His eyes break away to glance down at his dying body. “And it’s not already too late…?”

“No,” Carlos reassures. “But you’re nearing the point of no return.”

“Would you have chosen differently?”

It’s a question that Carlos has long asked himself, but each time he does, he’s taken back to the squalor of his dungeon prison cell. To the agonizing pain that crippled his hands and the tarnish upon his soul for the lies that he told just to ease the pain. Pushing the sickening memories away, he shakes his head. “No,” he says with conviction. “The men of the Inquisition only knew savagery without mercy, and this… this transformation was a blessing. And I still try to treat it as such.”

George stares up at him as if just truly seeing him for the first time. Perhaps Carlos should feel a little guilty for sharing his experience with immortality – not everyone adjusts to it or finds ways to pass the endless stream of days. But even in the short time Carlos has known George, the bright blue-eyed mortal has continued to surprise him.

“Then, how…” George sighs with a grimace. “How do I receive that blessing, too?”

Carlos fixes him with a firm, solemn gaze. “Is that what you want? I need to hear you say it…”

Another hard swallow works down George’s throat, but he holds Carlos’ gaze with determined resolution. “Yes… I want it.”

Carlos nods gently, casting his gaze about the tent. There are too many witnesses, and really, it’s best to be alone for such an intimate, vulnerable moment. “We’ll need to go away from here, outside… to draw less attention.”

Despite his frail state, the corner of George’s mouth ticks up. “Hopefully I won’t die before then.”

Carlos takes a second to focus on the steady rhythm of George’s heart before shaking his head. “You won’t.” He reassures as he starts to pull back the bedcovers. “Your lungs may be filling with fluid and your flesh rotting, but your heart still beats strong.”

George’s face flashes with incredulity. “You can hear all of that?”

“And smell it.” Carlos catches George’s gaze. “Soon enough, you will, too. Not in yourself anymore, but in others…” He lifts his head for one last survey of the tent. “I’m going to carry you out of here, but you need to stay quiet if we want to go unnoticed.”

A weak snort that ends in a gurgle passes George’s lips. “I can’t imagine you carrying me will hurt any worse than I already do.”

“I hope not.” Carlos agrees as he works an arm under George’s knees and behind his shoulders. Up close, the pungent odor of dying, rotting flesh nearly makes Carlos wretch, but he forces himself to focus. “On three,” he says softly. “One, two… three.”

A whimpering groan sounds in George’s throat as Carlos hefts him from the bed, holding him close against his chest in a bridal carry. George’s breath comes in quick, shallow draws as he bites down on his lip, and Carlos starts towards the main tent flaps, careful not to jostle George any more than he needs to.

He nearly makes it through the dim shadows before a stern-faced doctor steps in front of him. He glares down at George before staring up at Carlos, his face full of disapproval. “Where are you taking this man?”

“He asked to see the stars, sir.” Carlos answers without flinching. “For one last time…”

The doctor darts his wary gaze back down to George, looking him over in quick assessment. “In his condition, as cold as it is outside…” he pauses to look back at Carlos with a hard, grim truth. “His bed won’t be waiting for him.”

George summons a weak – perhaps it’s meant to be a chuckle, but his voice rasps and rattles too much. “I won’t need it, doc.”

A helpless, heartbroken expression cracks the doctor’s face for the briefest of seconds as he nods and steps out of Carlos’ way. He tightens his hold on the man in his arms as he shoulders his way out of the tent and into the bitterly frozen night. Shivers immediately seize George’s thin frame as he curls in closer to Carlos, and Carlos does his best to offer a shield against the wind. But the cold is too suffocating, too biting.

It doesn’t take him long to spot a half-splintered, rotting tree trunk that stands lone sentry on the outskirts of the military encampment. It takes even less time for him to sit with his back against the frozen bark and situate George between his outstretched legs. With George’s back flush against his chest, Carlos can feel each tremble that shakes George’s bones, feel each rattling breath in his rotting lungs.

George tips his head up, gingerly looking around. “You know, they are beautiful.” He says wistfully. “The s-stars… until you said something, I… I had forgotten they were up there.”

Carlos wraps a comforting arm around George’s stomach, holding him close. “That’s important, you know.” He says softly as he turns in towards the young Briton, nuzzling the young man’s cheek. “To keep finding the beauty in this world no matter how ugly things get.”

“I-is that w-what 500 years has taught you?”

“That,” Carlos agrees softly. “And much more.”

George attempts to draw a deep breath, but between the cold and his failing lungs, he stutters out a cough. “I’m ready – p-please…”

Carlos bares his fangs, dragging his nose down George’s jaw towards where his jugular rests just beneath the skin.

“W-will it hurt?”

Carlos shifts to tuck in closer against George’s neck, affection stirring in his chest as George’s arm wraps around his, holding onto him. “Yes,” Carlos whispers against George’s skin. “But whether it will hurt more than the pain you’re already feeling, I don’t know.”

George’s fingers grip Carlos’ forearm and his heartbeat quickens as the scent of fear fills Carlos’ nose. It’s unfair how sweet mortal fear smells, even when it’s heavily tinged with the acrid odor of death. He blinks the thought away as he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of George’s neck. The hot spill of blood washes over his tongue as he seals his lips to the punctured skin and sups in long, steady pulls.

Strangled moans die in George’s throat as he arches into the sensations flooding his body. Each time Carlos hollows his cheeks, the strength of George’s grip on his forearm fades and the rhythm of his heart slows. The Briton goes limp altogether and the moment is critical. Raising his own arm, Carlos pierces the vein on the underside of his wrist and presses it to George’s parted lips.

A transfer of blood and venom. That’s all it takes.

The mechanics are really quite simple even if the biology behind it escapes Carlos’ understanding.

Once he’s sealed both wounds, he tips his head back against the tree and waits. But it doesn’t take long before George starts seizing and convulsing in his arms.

Series Main List

Tag List: @fictional-l0v3r @hollie911

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cococharm · 4 months ago

Note

Hello, may I request something for DPR Ian where readers meet his friends?

I understand if you are busy or don't want to take this request 💕

Impressions

Pairing: DPR Ian x GN!reader Genre: Romance, Fluff Warnings: established relationships, Characters: Summary: Y/n meets Christian's friends for the first time. AN: Thank you so much for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. I decided to use their stage name instead of their real name, so people don't get confused.

I tugged nervously at the hem of my shirt as Christian led me into the dimly lit bar. The place had a intimate vibe, with warm lights casting a soft glow over the wooden tables and leather booths. I wasn't sure what to expect when he suggested a casual night out, but it wasn't this.

"Are you okay?" Christian asked, his voice low and soothing as he squeezed my hand.

"Yeah, just a little nervous," I admitted, giving him a small smile. "It's not every day I meet your friends."

He chuckled, pulling me closer as we weaved through the crowd. "You'll be fine. They're going to love you. I mean, how could they not?"

I appreciated his confidence, but my stomach still fluttered with nerves. Meeting Christian's friends felt like a big step, a glimpse into a part of his life that I hadn't yet been privy to. I knew how close he was with his crew, the people he worked with and trusted, so I wanted to make a good impression.

“Hey, guys!” Christian called out, catching their attention. “I want you to meet someone.”

All eyes turned to us as we reached the table. Christian gently nudged me forward, his hand resting reassuringly on the small of my back.

“This is Y/N,” he said, his voice full of pride. “My girlfriend.”

The group greeted me with warm smiles and enthusiastic hellos, and I couldn’t help but relax a little. They seemed friendly, welcoming even. Christian introduced each of them one by one—there was Live, Cream, and several others.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Live said, extending his hand with a grin. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yeah, Christian doesn’t shut up about you,” Cream added, teasingly nudging Christian, who just rolled his eyes with a grin.

I laughed, feeling my nerves start to melt away. “All positive things, I hope?”

“Of course!” Live said, patting the seat next to him. “Come, sit down. We’ve got plenty of room.”

Christian and I slid into the booth, and the conversation quickly resumed. I listened intently as they joked and shared stories, their camaraderie evident in every word. It was easy to see why Christian cherished these people—they were like a family, a close-knit group that had each other’s backs no matter what.

As the night wore on, I found myself slowly being pulled into their world. They were funny, down-to-earth, and full of energy. They asked me questions about myself, genuinely fascinating in getting to know me, and shared stories about their adventures with Christian.

Christian whispered in my ear at one point, his arm wrapped casually around my waist.

I smiled up at him, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. “I can see why you care about them so much.” I whispered.

“They already like you,” he said softly, his eyes shining with affection. “But then again, who wouldn’t?”

Before long, I was laughing along with the group, feeling more at ease than I ever expected. We talked about everything from music to travel, and I even got to hear a few embarrassing stories about Christian’s past that had me in stitches.

Eventually, the night began to wind down. The bar had emptied out a bit, and the energy had shifted to a more relaxed, mellow vibe. Christian’s friends started making their goodbyes, one by one, each of them giving me a warm farewell.

“It was great meeting you, Y/N,” Cream said as he gave me a quick hug. “You’re welcome to hang with us anytime.”

“Thanks,” I replied, feeling genuinely touched. “I’d love that.”

Once everyone had left, Christian and I were the only ones left at the table. He glanced at me, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“See? I told you it’d be fine,” he said, leaning in to kiss my temple.

I smiled, leaning into his touch. “You were right. They’re amazing, Christian. I really enjoyed tonight.”

He pulled me into a hug, his arms wrapped tightly around me. “I’m glad you did. It means a lot to me that you got along with them.”

I hugged him back, feeling a sense of contentment settle over me. Meeting his friends had been nerve-wracking, but now that it was over, I realized it was a huge step in our relationship—a step that brought us even closer.

As we walked out of the bar hand in hand, I felt a renewed sense of belonging. Christian had opened up another part of his world to me, and I knew I was exactly where I was meant to be—right by his side.

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koscheiy · 1 day ago

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imagine being forced to put love and dreams aside due to genocide and war. that is the reality for the Hamam family living in displacement in Palestine. not only have they lost their home, livelihoods, and savings, but they also are survivors of the Al Shifa massacre, where they witnessed horrible crimes against humanity perpetrated by the zionist regime. they were forced to flee the hospital, fearing for their lives, and walked for two days without food or water until they were able to set up their tent. the cold of winter is setting upon us, and the four walls of nylon are nothing to the biting cold and torrents of rain. they need our help!!

currently, they are at 60% of their goal. thanks to everyone doing what they can so far, they have been able to buy a brand new tent and pay for some of Mahmoud @ma7moudgaza2 's school fees and exams. even a dollar helps, especially if its USD. please consider putting some of the money that you would have spent on a coffee or takeout order to help the Hamams get back on their feet. and if you dont have enough to give, sharing their gfm is just as valuable!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#free palestine #wedding #dream wedding #writing prompts #writing inspiration #dragon age veilguard #dragon age #da4 #apex legends #rtvs #baaulp #wayneradiotv #idk what ppl ususlly do for tagging reach im gonna at a bunch of ppl later after work

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tothisemptiness · 6 days ago

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Golden Hour: Part 2 Analysis Series Part II: "Ice On My Teeth" MV

Hey everyone! Welcome to the second part of my analysis series of this comeback. In this post I will be analizing the Ice On My Teeth MV step by step. Please watch it before you read this post so that you can follow along easier. If you would like to see the other parts of this series you can find them below:

Part I: Golden Hour: Part 2 Diaries

Part III: The Chess Piece Theory

Bonus Part: Character Studies

Meet Counter-TEEZ

Author's Note: This must be what Atiny felt like when "Say My Name" MV first came out because dude I understand nothing and I have nothing at my hands. I only know that ATEEZ MVs have a pattern of representing future events especially when they are filmed at the early stages of their respective story arcs, like "Say My Name" and "Answer". Therefore, I think this MV takes place during a plot point that will be revealed to us in a future diary and we will be able to make perfect sense of it then.

First off we see the towel turn from white to black. I am hitting you so hard with a theory right off the bat. Now, let's settle that the ATEEZ we see in this MV is represented by the color black. They wear all black except for some scenes of HJ and San and according to the members are chess pieces theory, the ATEEZ in this MV are the black pieces. Who is the white one? Z's regime is characterized by white uniforms, sure. Who else wears all white though?

These guys.

Also these guys. We can basically conclude that the ATEEZ we've known from the start are characterized by white, which symbolizes purity and ingenuity. It is very fitting considering their youth and noble goals.

Then who is this ATEEZ, why are they black and why are they against our ATEEZ? I genuinely don't know. For now I will be calling them Counter-TEEZ which will make more sense as I proceed with this analysis.

The ring kissing move is usually part of patriarchal establishments, or at least groups with heavy hierarchy. When compared to Black Pirates, this isn't very anarchist of them.

Snow. Keep this in mind, it will come up later. I also want to point out how, except for group shots and a single shot that is immediately followed by a group shot at the same setting, Hongjoong is always alone in this MV, he doesn't interact with his groupmates at all.

A broken mirror. We know this is an important symbol because it also shows up on the D-Day poster. Mirrors are symbols of self-perception and identity, this was the main reason why in Z's regime people were impeded from seeing their reflection in any way. Here, the mirror is broken. This may indicate ATEEZ's own identities are somehow distorted in this MV, further supporting my Counter-TEEZ theory. Notice how a chandelier appears in the background, which is also in the poster? Also keep that in mind.

We said that Counter-TEEZ are the black pieces. I imagine the tennis player army and the ballerinas to be their pawns because otherwise what would the tennis players' presence even mean. Interestingly, they are dressed in all white with just a black ski mask. I don't exactly know what this means, but it means something.

More chandeliers! San is pulling himself up using the chandelier but it barely budges. Gravity seems to be fucked since normal weight doesn't apply here. Another instance of weaker gravity in the MV is when Hongjoong floats in front of a neo-classical painting. Tumblr won't let me add more photos, just look at my icon. Usually we think stuff like this happen in the dream sequences, so this must be a dream sequence. Except we don't have the bright colors or extra-absurd imagery. Do you remember where else we see mention of fucked gravity?

"Halazia". The MV very likely takes place around the time of "Halazia" or at least after the event that caused the world to lose its gravity.

Excuse the shitty GIF, I did my best putting it up here, just focus on the move. The footwork is a Charleston move, which was a dance very popular during the Roaring 20s. Also HJ's flapper-esque styling belongs to the same era. The Roaring 20s was a period in the US characterized by the American Dream and extravagancy that showed off your wealth. Does the theme sound similar? "IOMT" in itself also shows us extravagant displays of wealth: a giant mansion, way too many chandeliers, diamond covered jewellery everywhere, a classical car on the dinner table... Is this dance move or HJ's clothes plot relevant? Not really, but it is fun to notice and draw parallels from! They also subtly reinforce the themes very well while keeping the artistic touches.

Especially in this part of the MV Yunho looks more in control even over other members and fills in HJ's absence in the leadership. Yunho taking on the role of the leader and HJ being isolated from the rest is also something we see in "Halazia". I usually don't like relating songs directly to the lore but ATEEZ have established that they actually tell the story through their music, so I will consider some lyrics. Yunho basically stops the puppet show Yeosang puts on for the press saying "How do we look?". What was Yeosang about to disclose that Yunho worried about their image? And why through a puppet<*

Yeosang is once again likened to a little bird. Let's draw some parallels between the MV, lyrics and the established lore. Other than this, we hear "Halazia" mention a little bird that is silenced:

"Mm, the little blue bird that lost its voice

I can hear the whispers

The beginnings of a deep echo

The voice that will overturn the world"

In the diary analysis post, we had established that thinking of YS as the blue bird seems like a reasonable idea now. When do we see YS being disregarded when he speaks? When he speaks to his father about his dreams. When he asks members about Sopro again and again. When he goes against WY's idea of starting again. We are so focused on WY but nobody verbally supports YS then, WY at least has Jongho support the idea even a bit. I doubt the theme of disregarding YS's words will end here. Furthermore, we see that he is becoming more and more central to the lore than he's ever been. I will come back to this point.

I need someone to help me understand if he is saying something clever or if he is just saying "WE ATE!!!".

There is a tied tic-tac-toe game between a white and a black player. I will start stretching this out to symbolize something. I think the white player (both in chess and in tic-tac-toe) is the original ATEEZ that lives on passion and dreams while the black player is Counter-TEEZ that live with the desire for money and other materialistic stuff. The reason they are in a tie is without money, they can't do their art but to make money they must compromise from their dreams, however what would the money they earn this way mean if they can't use it for progressing towards their dream? There is a blackish gray cat walking around the game. Wooyoung's symbolic animal is a black cat, so I think it symbolizes him trying to find a way out of this game. Both in this game and in chess whites start first and it also applies to this theory: before they ever thought of money they were already chasing their dreams, the need and desire for money came later on.

Jongho seems to stand in the middle of what looks like a medieval chandelier, with two fallen chandeliers beside him. I know I talk a lot about the chandeliers but they just keep appearing and falling down out of nowhere. I swear I am going somewhere with this topic, I just want to leave it for the end where I can talk about it more comprehensively. For now, I have 2 small theories that explain them:

They represent Counter-TEEZ's greed for extreme wealth falling apart

In "Halazia" not only do we see gravity weaken, we also see it coming back (the floating metal ball San pulls falls down). For all we know the gravity may also get stronger in this case. Then the chandeliers that hang from the ceiling may get unnaturally heavier and fall off from the ceiling since they hang from there with a support system fit for a lighter weight.

Return of bouncing yellow cars. Why though? Why put a recurring image like this? It doesn't even fit the aesthetic or the mood of this MV. Also we see that there are also full black pawns, so the white ones with black masks aren't the only ones. However, these ones aren't dressed up like artists or sports players but more like businessmen or a mob.

The song isn't even about this bro.

Yuh. I have no idea what kind of scheme requires this. I can only trust it will be revealed in the upcoming diaries

Yunho is showing the doctor something like an X-Ray scan of... the mansion? How do mansions have X-Ray scans? Who is the doctor? Why is he so scared of this and why does Yunho look like he is threatening him? Stuff that I hope we will find out in (checks old MV and diary dates) 2 years... fuck.

Is this a generic antique lighter or is it specifically made for this MV with a special meaning to the logo on the lighter? Someone help.

Arson and homicide all at once. 4 questions come to mind:

Why were all those furniture outside?

Why did Jongho pull them all in from a small window on the top floor?

Why did they burn them all outside after taking them in?

Why burn the doctor too?

The destruction of art, something normal ATEEZ covets and puts effort and money in keeping alive, is a theme previously explored in "MATZ", generally considered as a Halazia-related content. Too early to say anything, but I believe Counter-TEEZ may be walking along the same line as MATZ there. Speaking of fire and "Halazia", they prefer to destroy the images of Halateez using fire there.

I don't know if anyone else noticed but they don't put cookies at the end of MVs anymore :(

Loose threads to tie

There are a few elements I left to discuss here so that I won't be tied to a singular part of the MV or the song to discuss them.

I mentioned the chandeliers so much but pianos are also a recurring element in the MV. I believe it is the only musical instrument to show up (despite violins being the focal part of the song).

As I point out the chandeliers fall an abnormal amount of times. When San hangs from one, when Seonghwa claps his hands during his rap, two-three are already fallen while Jongho sings the second pre-chorus. Where else in ATEEZ's videography do chandeliers (fallen or not) and pianos come up? "Halazia".

There are 3 fallen chandeliers and one still standing just in this room. This is an absurd amount of chandeliers for a room of this size btw. In the back we also notice a piano. Not a grand piano like in here, but the pattern is still here.

Where else?

"Answer", which coincidentially (?) starts with a piano melody that has nothing to do with the song itself. Other elements that parallel "Answer" are the presence of snow and the images on the D-Day poster: glasses, a table ornate with candles, chandelier (again), and a mirror. In "Answer" we see an overwhelming amount of mirrors, both full size and as shards. The room HJ is in looks similar enough to that of "Answer" but smaller and not exactly the same. The theme of glasses also come up in "IOMT"s lyrics like "How many glasses? Woo, eight total", even though in "Answer" we see twice the amount. While I am so sure "IOMT" relates directly to "Halazia", I'm not sure how it links to "Answer", but the parallels are there, and out of all the images in the music video they chose the ones that were previously seen a lot in "Answer".

Yeosang Interlude

Another topic is the mansion itself. It feels like an exaggerated version of Yeosang's villa. Below are all the descriptions of the villa:

An antique villa, far removed from the city center and hidden by lush trees

A large table in the dining room

“The dining room let out into a short hallway that connected to the living room.”

Large windows framed by curtains

An antique cabinet is next to the window with a familiar frame and a broken glass object

The location, the hallway we see Seonghwa in that is narrow but seemingly endless in length, the absurdly large dining table that can fit a car on top of it, and the room where we see the Cromer and Sopro is likely the study where we see Jongho (with the large window and antique furniture). The mansion has a lot of artwork in it. Yeosang is an investor who also invests in art, taking on the historical "patron" role. Especially in the previous centuries, patrons would commission artists for artwork that they would exhibit in their own houses, so Yeosang having many artworks in his villa is a very fitting thing for his character. However, as I said, the mansion isn't directly YS's villa, it is an exaggerated image of it. Speaking of the parallels between the villa and the MV, the line "How many glasses? Woo, eight total" may also refer to the dinner scene in the diaries.

The backtrack of this song has violins as its focus. As we mentioned before, ATEEZ uses music to link their stories together. Violins don't come up in the songs, but they come up in "Halazia"s prologue, right after the blue bird flies away. Violins are also representative of Yeosang. "IOMT" basically combines all of Yeosang's imagery in one MV and gives us a good reason to think that he will be central to the story from now on.

Aside from not being able to speak, the little blue bird is also seen guiding Seonghwa to the white-clothed people in "Halazia"s prologue and epilogue. I will theorize a little on Yeosang's role here. He was the only member who explicitly went against Wooyoung in the diaries, saying their lives aren't failures just because they aren't chasing their first dream now. After Wooyoung uses Sopro, I think Yeosang will be the first member to break out of its effect (because he is much less tied down to this old dream than any of the other members, shown by only him being able to refuse the idea immediately) and will try to wake others up but he will, again, either be disregarded or downright shut down by the members who are caught up in its effect, mimicking the silenced blue bird. In this process, he will take on a guiding role for the group and his success will start a series of events that will change ATEEZ's universe completely. In this arc if Wooyoung is the voice of the heart Yeosang will be that of reason. Finally, I think Yeosang will first be able to wake Seonghwa up, leading him to the "Be Free" bracelet will trigger this as seen in the Epilogue, and moving from there will wake the others up with a similar method.

I hope I didn't miss anything but it is currently 3 AM so I very likely did. This has been a very detailed analysis and I couldn't even talk about some details I would like to because I can't really make sense of them. If I remember anything else I will come back and edit this post. If you took the time to read until here thank you very much and see you soon with the remaining parts of the analysis since I still have some themes in this comeback that I would like to discuss <3

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