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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

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Twelve Days of Christmas - Day Twelve

Prompt: Christmas Day.

Pairing: Yandere!Dorm Leaders/Reader (Twisted Wonderland).

TW: Implied Non-Con, Manipulation, Coercion, Slight Verbal Degradation, Mentions of Injury, Mentions of Choking, and Premeditated Assault.

It was supposed to be a tradition, among the Dorm Leaders.

That was what Leona said, at least, nudging you in the side as that predatory grin played at the corners of his lips. The prefects never went home for the winter holidays, sticking around to organize the dorms and met with the headmaster, so it was only natural that they’d celebrate together, sneaking off campus for the night for a bonfire and a few drinks Sam only sold to his favorite students. You’d tried to brush him off, but Azul’d vouched for him, and when prompted, Riddle’d flushed and admitted that there wasn’t technically a rule against anything they did. Somehow, neither managed to inspire much faith in their ringleader’s story, but they did their best. You’d give them credit for trying.

Kalim was the one who convinced you to go, in the end. You’d never been able to turn him away, and tonight wasn’t an exception, not when he’d been kind enough to turn up on Ramshackle’s doorstep with an extra coat, a spare thermos, and a smile that could’ve rivalled the sun. He was always sweet, like that. He always made it so hard to refuse, like that, even if you’d still groaned as he led you into woods surrounding Night Raven. He always made it hard to say no.

And now, he was making it impossible.

He was making it impossible to say much of anything, honestly.

You could feel his fingers hitting the back of your throat, prying your lips apart and forcing you to gag, your entire body jolting with the sudden force. Something sharp dug into your exposed back, the jagged edge of a stone cutting at the meat of your calf, but a strong hand was quick to clamp down around your shoulder, shoving you back to the ground. Its twin wrapped around Kalim’s wrist, dragging him away and letting your head fall to the side as you sputtered, struggling to breath. If Riddle noticed, he didn’t seem to think of you comfort as a priority. His grip only tightened around your forearm, a growl lacing the edges of his voice as he spoke. “Don’t be so careless,” He spat, all self-righteous frustration and poorly veiled aggression. “They could’ve passed out! The last thing we need is less time than we already have.”

Your vision was blurry, by now, your sense separated from reality by a thick layer of fog, but you could’ve sworn Kalim pouted, straightening his back and digging his knee into your bicep, the pressure numb and bruising, at the same time. “I’m just trying to have a little fun,” He sighed, his tone somewhere between a whine and a mumble. “It‘s not my fault Leona called the first turn. The rest of us still have to find something to do, ‘til he’s done.”

Until he’s done. It was more daunting than it should’ve been, until he’s done. You could feel Leona now, even if you refused to look at him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your thighs in his hands, sharpened nails tearing through thin clothes with a pace so idle, it almost felt patronizing. It would’ve been worse if he rushed, you knew that, it would’ve been so much worse, but part of you still wished he’d just… get it over with. Or, that he’d pretend he was trying to, at least. “I don’t take scraps,” Leona scoffed. You tried to buck your hips, making a half-hearted effort to put any amount of distance between you and him, but he only bared his teeth, sending you a soft glare as he splayed his hand over your waist, pinning you down before you could do so much as writhe. “I offered to let Schoenheit go, but apparently, his majesty got cold feet. And he was so pushy about this, too.” There was a tap to your side, a breath of a chuckle from Leona. “I’d be insulted if I were you, sweetheart. It’s not very considerate of him to leave you high and dry, is it?”

“Some of us have self-respect,” Vil retorted, from the edge of the clearing. You knew he’d be watching, that he’d be looming over you, but you still cringed at the reminder, at the judgement in his voice. “I would’ve offered Pomefiore as a venue, if I knew you’d be rolling around in the dirt like a herd of wild animals. I’ll clean up (Y/n) and take what I deserve when the rest of you are finished.”

At his side, Azul hummed in agreement. He’d chosen to play the role of innocent bystander, his judgement softened into a guiltless, shameless curiosity. In a way, he was better than Vil, he hadn’t helped to restrain you when you tried to run, nor did he seem to take any more malicious glee in this than he did anything else. But, what little appreciation you had for him died the moment he continued to do nothing, staring on with that small, knowing smirk. As if he wanted you to understand that he wasn’t on your side, even if he wasn’t really on theirs, either. “Someone has to make sure Idia gets his recording, too. And, with that in mind, it’d only be fair if he got to see some of the aftermath.”

“Greedy bastard,” Vil muttered, but he didn’t try to object further. “Fine, but don’t expect me to share.”

There was a beat of silence, and Leona took the opportunity to push your ripped shirt up to your collar, dragging his talons over your hips and aiming to start in earnest, but he stilled quickly, rounded ears flicking slightly as his expression dropped. You heard the reason why a second later - footsteps, hurried and careful, dredging through the forest and only getting closer. Your heart skipped a beat, the shocked hazed over your mind finally beginning to thin. Still, you didn’t have to think, you didn’t even try to. You were already thrashing, kicking at Leona, pulling against Kalim and Riddle. You were already screaming, the sound only partially muffled by Riddle’s attempts to keep you quiet. “Help!” It was a desperate cry, all shrill necessity, all primal instinct. “Help, I don’t know what’s going on, I can’t-- They’re going to ra--”

Riddle covered your mouth, but it was too late, you could already see him - Malleus. Wonderful, powerful Malleus, his eyes wide and his expression confused as he stepped into the small clearing. For a moment, he scanned over the arrangement, Leona between your legs, Vil watching on with crossed arms and a scowl, Azul, phone in hand and his posture still relaxed. Worrying relaxed, honestly.

Then, you heard Malleus’ laugh, and your heart cracked open in your chest.

“You gave me the wrong time,” He chided, but he didn’t seem angry. His pace was calmer than it had been as he approached, his touch nothing but gentle as his hand came to rest on Leona’s shoulder, who offered a shake of his head by way of apology. Malleus’ attention shifted towards you, but he didn’t seem affected. If anything, he only seemed more content than he had been, as he met your eyes. “Don’t stop on my account. I’ve been waiting as long as the rest of you.”

That made sense. You hated it, it was disgusting, but it made sense.

Leona did say all the prefects were looking forward to this, after all.

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i-stan-nct-and-satan · 5 years ago

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Not Broken (Jaehyun Mafia AU) Part 14

Not Broken Masterlist

Jaehyun X Reader

Y/N is a burlesque dancer living in Seoul. Jaehyun is one of the most powerful mafia men in Seoul. How will Y/N survive when Jaehyun suspects that she is involved with a rival gang?

Reasons to read this story: Ten’s a cross-dressing madam so….. yeah read it ya freaks.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

His presence sent shivers down my spine. Every fiber of my being urged me to run but I couldn’t. A much stronger force locked my body in place. The gym filled with an oppressive energy that immediately became too suffocating to bear.

The corners of his lips upturned into a slight smile, a motion that contradicted the mood of the room. Letting out a soft chuckle, he ran his fingers through his faded pink hair, only for it to fall back into place seemingly untouched.

“Is that any way to speak to your new trainer, Y/N?”

Although he terrified me more than anything I had ever encountered, I refused to let Jaehyun think that he had any more power over me than he already did.

“New trainer? What are you talking about? Where’s Jeno? He’s my trainer, not you.”

Jaehun slowly shook his head and began to tsk at me. His smug features mocked me as he began to step closer towards me. He knew of the effect he had on me and was surely using his influence to further disrupt any tranquility I had left. There was no way he’d be ignorant enough to think that his existence was anything less than a means for my suffering, right?

“I must say, it‘s almost disconcerting to hear my fiancé sound so concerned about another man, especially after I forwent my morning responsibilities just to be with her. You wouldn’t be trying to make me jealous would you, kitten?” He taunted, his eyes feigning hurt.

His words were coated in an artificial sweetness that could lead someone unbeknownst to his character to believe they were filled with genuine hurt but to me, they left me with a headache and a bad taste in my mouth. Not only that, but the way his eyes traveled their ways over my figure as he spoke was... anxiety inducing.

“Where’s Jeno?” I repeated, my strong facade beginning to waver.

Jaehyun stared at me in amusement and I wondered how I was going to keep his mood from turning sour without giving in to his games.

“Jeno has some duties he needs to take care of, you know with planning our wedding and all. Planning a proper ceremony is such a taxing responsibility and even without the deadline already enclosing on us. Although I trust Jeno’s abilities, I figured that relieving him of his other responsibilities would allow him to have everything ready for the end of the month.”

I couldn’t help but gasp.

“The end of the m-m-month? That’s only 3 weeks away!”

“In our line of business, that isn’t particularly out of the ordinary given the nature of most arrangements. A lot can happen in the months leading up to the official ceremony after an engagement is announced. Enemy plans can emerge, alliances could break, not to mention the very real possibility of either party’s death. Most find it best to officialize marriages as soon as possible, for the safety and benefit of all those involved, which is why we’re only announcing our engagement two weeks prior to the ceremony itself.”

Jaehyun’s words reached my ears but they sounded foreign to me and not because Korean wasn’t my first language. Everything he was saying sounded completely and utterly insane. Announcing an engagement two weeks before a wedding, the fact that we were having a wedding? It was straight out of a Kdrama and a cheesy one at that. I didn’t know how to respond to it as I had barely been given enough time to process our engagement in the first place.

“If Jeno isn’t coming, I’m leaving,” I declared, turning towards the exit door.

“Not so fast, kitten. Didn’t you hear what I said? I’ll be taken over as your trainer.”

I hesitated slightly but began to walk away.

“Then I guess I won’t be training anytime soon,” I announced.

I held my breath, not knowing what to expect. I braced myself for any backlash my blatant disrespect might have earned me when a startling sound entered the room.

He was laughing.

I had just made it to the door, but I didn’t dare reach towards the handle. I thought I had fully prepared myself for any reaction he could have to my words whether they be verbal or even physical in nature, but Jaehyun always found a way to rebel against my expectations. His unnerving laughter incited a fear in me so vast, every hair on my body stood straight as though it would abandon its follicle.

I tried to swallow but my mouth was unbearable dry. Gathering up my courage, I raised my arm from my side and reached towards the door handle.

“Don’t you want to hear the other reason for delaying the announcement of our wedding?”

I paused but continued to grip the handle with whitening knuckles.

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say to me.”

Jaehyun chuckled at my audaciousness.

It’s cute how she acts fearless despite how she literally trembles whenever I speak. I want to tease her even more.

“Don’t you know it hurts my feelings when you say things like that? Or are you just trying to get a rise out of me?” He taunted.

I began to turn the knob, disgusted by his playful tone.

“Ah. Ah Ah. Believe me when I say that this is something you won’t want to miss out on,” He urged.

“At least... not unless you suddenly want to go through with the wedding.”

I instinctively looked back at Jaehyun, completely taking my hand off of the doorknob.

“What? What do you mean?” I asked in a tone more sincere than I had intended.

A glimmer of disappointment seemed to wash over his features before he spoke.

“Now don’t look too excited,” He frowned.

Ah, he’s mocking me again, isn’t he?

“I have a proposition for you. A deal of sorts.”

I stared at him.

“What kind of proposition?”

Jaehyun smiled a devilish smile before walking away.

I stood there confused as to whether he was intending for me to follow or stay put. After a moment’s hesitation, I resolved that it was the former.

I trailed behind him as we wandered through the myriad of rooms that made up the massive home gym until Jaehyun settled upon one with a considerable about of floor mats. The room was far from new to me, seeing as it was the room Jeno most commonly used during combat training.

“I’ve been watching you and Jeno train for some time now,” He began, taking notice of my shock.

“You’ve gotten quite good considering you’ve only been working together for a week. I’d like to assess your progress and continue your training.”

“Why would you want to train me?” I asked. Glancing around the room in search of any cameras he might have used to monitor Jeno and my gym sessions.

“Because you are to be my bride,” He answered, catching me off guard.

Jaehyun’s eyes lingered on mine. They were softer than I had ever seen them before, but matching his gaze still proved to be too much to do comfortable. I shifted my stare to a nearby stack of floormats.

“Although that status will grant you protection in of itself, there are certain dangers that come with taking the Jung family name. I must prepare you for that.”

“Oh...” I responded.

I hadn’t expected his answer to be so impassioned and sensible. I didn’t know what I was thinking, but I was sure his reasoning would have had more extemporaneous origins.

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t have any alternative motives to this decision,” He confessed prompting, me to match his gaze once more.

“You and I haven’t met under the most favorable of circumstances, which is admittedly my fault. I don’t expect you to forgive me anytime soon and I am prepared for much of the harshness I delivered onto you to be returned onto me possibly for the next several years succeeding our wedding day.”

This time he was the one to break our stare though his eyes only seemed to lower innocently.

“But I want for our marriage to be a mutually beneficial one. I hope that over this next week, you and I will have the chance to get to know each other. I think that that is what would be best.”

“You’re damn right this is your fault,” I said. “Why on earth would you think I’d ever agree to working with you on anything?”

Jaehyun’s expression hardened, but it didn’t show any signs of anger.

“Because if you think there’s any chance of you getting out of this wedding without my explicit consent, then our little kitten is dumber than I thought. Now do you want to hear my proposition or what?”

I kept my mouth shut.

“Good, now, where was I? Oh yeah. You and Jeno use this room for combat training, right? So, you’ve already experienced several scenarios simulating fights with an opponent who’s much stronger than you.”

Jaehyun stared at me searching for any sign that I was following before going on.

“You’re going to continue hands on training, but with me as your opponent instead. The only rules are that you have to stay within the perimeters of the room and that you cannot use a weapon to attack your opponent. Whoever pins the other on their back for three seconds will win.”

“Oh yeah? And what happens if I somehow win?” I scoffed.

The devilish grin returned to Jaehyun’s face, prompting my confident façade to teeter.

“If you manage to pin me down for the full 3 seconds within the next 7 days before our engagement is announced to the world, I’ll call off the wedding.”

“What?”

“I said, if you beat me, I’ll call off the wedding.”

“But what about Wayv?”

“That won’t be an issue, I could make the president of Korea disappear without a trace if I wanted. I should have no problem finding a way to keep you safe from Wayv.”

“That’s not what you said before.”

“Well, that’s what I’m saying now!” He boomed.

I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from arguing any further. I had more important things to ask.

“What happens if I can’t beat you before the seven days are up?”

“I was wandering if you’d ask that. It’s only fair that after offering you the chance to call our or marriage off entirely, that I should get something of equal value if you were to lose.”

That wasn’t what I had wanted to hear. Of course, he wanted something from me. Why else would he give me the opportunity to dip out on our marriage? There was no chance that he’d do this out of the goodness of his heart, and the idea that he was only doing this to see the hope drain from my being wasn’t too unbelievable. That couldn’t have been the case though. As much of a conniving bastard I knew Jaehyun to be, he was still a man of business. I’d be a sucker to think he’d do anything without it serving to further his agenda. Now the only question was, what was it he wanted and was it something I was willing to risk?

He brought his hand to his face in an exaggerated gesture as he vocally pondered to himself.

“What is it that you could offer me that I couldn’t just take from you?”

My body tensed upon hearing those last few words.

Fuck.

He began walking towards me as he spoke.

“As you can probably tell, there isn’t much in this world that I can’t buy. Diamonds, cars, mansions. I can have it all. I just have to say the word. So, I’m sure you can understand my frustration when that doesn’t turn out to be the case. You, for example. Although I can’t simply buy your obedience, you’ve come to realize how far my power extends such as with the case of your friend, Wendy. If I can ensure your compliance with our wedding with something as simple as that, then imagine what else I can do,” He voiced as he reached a hand towards my face.

I turned my face to avoid his advances, but his fingers brushed against my cheek as he pushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

He leaned in close until his lips hovered mere inches away from my ear.

“But that isn’t very fun now, is it?”

I took a step back from him and stared into his eyes practically begging him to stop.

“W-what are you saying?” I demanded.

Jaehyun responded with a sly smirk which only drew more attention to my now flustered state.

“What I’m saying, is that I don’t want to have to keep forcing you to behave.”

“So, you just want me to go along with whatever you tell me to? And what, act like your perfect little puppet?”

“Something along those lines,” He chimed, leaning in again.

The heat in my face was unbearable. I wanted to stand tall, but with how close his face was to mine, I could only retreat into myself further. He laughed before turning away from me to stand in front of the room’s mirror wall.

He spent several seconds looking at himself before continuing.

“You will be rewarded, of course. Whether it be material items or vacations, ask for it and it will likely become yours assuming you act in accordance with my standards.”

“What type of things does ‘meeting your standards’ entail?” I asked afraid of what the answer might be.

Jaehyun glanced back at me from the mirror. The fear on my face must have been apparent as he quickly motioned to ease my mind.

“I will never demand that you do anything of that nature if that’s what you’re afraid of. Although it will be expected of you to give me a male heir, that won’t be for some time and I already have plans to send you away for nine months as the adoption process is completed to give the illusion that you bore said child yourself.”

I relaxed slightly at the confirmation that his requests wouldn’t be sexual in nature, but I tensed back up when I realized he wasn’t done with his explanation.

“My mother is returning to the estate today.”

“Your mother?” I echoed.

“After my father died, she went to live with her sister. She comes to visit the estate when she can and Jisung and Chenle often go to stay with her for long periods at a time, but upon hearing of our engagement she has decided to return indefinitely. She has yet to learn of the specifics regarding our relationship and I would prefer to keep it that way. She’s somehow diluted herself into thinking that our marriage is based on love despite having never heard of you until yesterday. She’s not opposed to arranged marriages, but I’d like for her to think that Chenle and Jisung will have another mother figure in their lives. She will be assisting in the preparation of our wedding as is her duty. Things like going through dresses and basic preparations will make up most of your time together. I would like for you to get to know her as your future mother-in-law given you are unable to win our little bet. Some details would best be hidden from her such as your career path and how we met but it’ll be easier if you aren’t pretending to be someone you’re not. I’ve already had Haechan prepare a back story for you and how we met. I’ve insisted that he tag along on all your endeavors so that he may assist you in... keeping to the script, shall we say?”

He continued to look himself in the mirror as he spoke. He seemed deep in thought, as though he were still confirming the plan with himself instead of explaining the details to me.

“I know that the bet won’t end for seven days, but if you agree to the bet, know that you’ll need to agree to this as well. That way I’ll have an idea of whether you’ll stay true to your word or not. Once you agree to the terms of the bet, then you cannot change your mind. You can’t suddenly give up your last three tries because you don’t think you’ll win. If you don’t agree to the bet, then I guess I’ll just have to find other ways of making you obey my orders such as through your friend Jungwoo.”

I flinched at hearing Jungwoo’s name. It seemed as though Jaehyun did more than just find out if Wendy was okay when he researched the Heartbreakers.

“I strongly suggest that you agree to my terms as I believe that even if you lose, you will still benefit from this agreement. Otherwise, the next several years will likely be filled with many hardships should you continue to challenge me.”

His words, which were provocative in nature, had a slight hiss to them. I was reminded of Lucifer who took the form of a snake before he seduced Eve into eating the forbidden fruit and thus bringing about the fall of man. Yet, instead of trying to corrupt me with sin, my Lucifer was giving me a chance to return to Eden. The cost of losing meant my soul. If I agreed, that meant that I was promising to live out my life, pretending to be what Jaehyun wanted me to be. If I didn’t, then I was sure he’d do everything in his power to make my life as miserable as I wanted to make his. Even if it meant my pride remained intact, I wasn’t sure if such a fight was worth sacrificing my happiness for.

But that wasn’t what I needed to focus on.

Jaehyun posed our bet as though it were a guarantee that I would lose, but that wasn’t the case. Jeno had spent hours upon hours teaching me moves with the specific intention that they would help me out if I were to ever find myself in danger of fighting someone much stronger than me.

Was there any chance that I could actually beat Jaehyun? Maybe not but thinking like that wasn’t an option. If this was the only chance I’d have to get Jaehyun out of my life once and for all, then I was going to take it.

“Deal,” I said.

The surprised look on Jaehyun’s face disappeared as soon as it came, soon morphing into one of satisfaction.

“Then shall we begin?”

<><><><>

“Consider today a break from training. Once we’re done with the match you can return to your room and prepare for my mother’s arrival. Starting tomorrow, we’ll only have matches after we finish our training sessions. That way you’ll actually be motivated to come to our training sessions,” Jaehyun told me.

“But that’ll be after I’m already worn out from training! That’s not fair!”

Jaehyun paused for a moment as if he were debating my words.

“As your trainer, it will be in my best interest to help you improve and that includes showing you where you went wrong and how to counter my moves. I can’t do that unless we fight first. This way, I’ll be able to see your fighting style and have time to plan a lesson teaching you how to counter my moves.”

“How can I trust that you’ll actually teach me the most effective way to counter?” I challenged.

“I understand why you’d doubt me but believe me when I say that I know more than just one trick. Teaching you how to counterattacks to one move doesn’t guarantee that I’ll use it again or that you’ll be a good enough student to actually execute them.”

Jaehyun ignored the dirty look I gave him.

A knock came from the doorway. I turned to see Taeyong holding a stopwatch.

“Ah. Now that our ref is here, Are you ready to begin?” Jaehyun asked.

I stared him up and down, aware that there was no way I’d be able to take a man of his stature down, at least not today. I had to come up with a strategy.

During one of our first matches, Jeno taught me that the best thing to do when fighting a new opponent is to let them attack first. That way, you can analyze their fighting style and act accordingly.

“You can tell a lot about a man from their first move. Not just whether they’re fighting style is more defensive or offensive, but about their inner workings as well. A man who attacks without hesitance is rash and likely uses their appearance of strength as a coverup for their faults. A man who hesitates and overanalyzes his opponent is filled with doubt and anxieties. A man who employs weapons to distance himself from his opponent is the same man who would order his underlings to do his dirty work for him. A man who is able to use his opponent's strength against them is disciplined and goal oriented. This kind of fighter knows how to save his strength for more pressing matters. Attacking first will only inform your opponent of your weaknesses so it is best to let them reveal themselves to you first. This will benefit you as you’ll learn to gauge your opponent’s abilities. Never jump headfirst into a pool you can’t see the bottom of. You never know what dangers lurch underneath the surface.”

Jeno’s words eclipsed my thoughts.

What type of fighter would Jaehyun prove to be? You can learn a lot about a man from his first move, so what if the reverse was true? Would it possible to predict Jaehyun’s moves based on what I already knew about him? With what little information I had, Jaehyun didn’t seem like the type to act without a plan, but given that he was fighting against someone much less inexperienced, maybe that wouldn’t be the case with me.

I looked at Jaehyun. I took notice of his smug features.

I was right. He expects to win quickly and easily and it’s likely that will be the case.

This might be our first fight, but it would be stupid of me to take it any less seriously, but what if I could use that to my advantage.

It’s our first fight so probably already anticipating what my first action will be. Perhaps he expects me to act rashly. No, that couldn’t be the case. Jaehyun knows that Jeno and I have been working together and I know that he’s already seen glimpses of my fighting style. He probably knows that I plan to let him strike first.

I continued to stare back at Jaehyun as I went back and forth with myself. He let out a small chuckle that further revealed his confidence in himself.

Go ahead and smile, Jaehyun. That confidence of yours is going to serve as a tool for my victory.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

“Good.”

Jaehyun shot a glance towards Taeyong who nodded in response.

“To reiterate the rules. Whoever manages to pin the other down for three seconds wins. The pinned person must be laying on their back and both of their shoulders must be touching the mat for the full three seconds. No weapons may be used to attack your opponent and both parties must stay within the confines of the room. There is no time limit. The match ends either with one party successfully pinning the other or with one party tapping out which will result in their opponent’s victory. Is everyone aware of what tapping out means?” Taeyong asked.

Both Jaehyun and I nodded.

“Great, now get into position,” Taeyong instructed.

I watched Jaehyun as he walked up to a mark that was engraved into the mat with tape. I quickly located a similar mark and approached it.

“You may start when I blow the whistle. Ready? Whistle!”

Taeyong quickly blew the whistle catching me off guard as I thought there would be more warning beforehand. I launched myself at Jaehyun. A spark of surprise crossed his expression as I quickly advanced towards him.

That was my plan, to catch him off guard by acting in juxtaposition with what he expected of me.

Slam!

The air that peacefully occupied my lungs was violently expunged as my back made harsh contact with the floor. The pure shock of the moment was enough to have me fixed to the floor. There was no need for the hands that held me in place except to mock me for my misguided attempts against the man they belonged to.

Whistle!

“Jaehyun is the winner,” Taeyong announced, his voice clear and void of any noticeable disappointment or excitement.

The match was over, and I was right where I had started. Actually, I was lower than where I had started, both figuratively and literally. Having no recollection of what had happened, I was still hopelessly ignorant as to the kind of fighter Jaehyun was, now with only had six attempts remaining instead of seven.

As I struggled to regain any pattern of breathing even remotely similar to my normal, Jaehyun simply stared down at me. His body, which showed no intention of withdrawing from mine, began to move closer to my stunned physique. His face hovering only inches away from mine.

I kept my eyes closed as tightly as I could to find some sort of grounding as I recovered from the impact. I only opened my eyes after hearing a soft chuckle.

“Cute,” Jaehyun thought to himself.

I stared back at him shocked by how close he was. I instinctively tried to pull away from him but there was nowhere to go. I was already pressed against the mat. With nowhere to go and nowhere else to look, my eyes met his.

I prepared myself for the humiliation that would come with looking at whatever amused look might be staring back. After hearing his laughter, I was sure that he was going to tease me, and I was going to chew him out for it. Yet when my eyes met his, the expression that stared back at me wasn’t the self-satisfied grin I had become so familiar with.

This look was one I hadn’t seen before, at least not from Jaehyun. It wasn’t the cocky look he often adorned while teasing me nor was it the coldhearted disposition I had been intimidated by time and time again. His rose gold bangs fell past his eyes in a vain attempt to hide them, but the intensity they held was desperate to be noticed. That intensity seemed to be the only thing desperate about them. Despite having just finished a fight, as brief as it might have been, Jaehyun looked more sedate than one would expect. His calm and collected state did little to ease my quickening heart as a glimmer of playfulness seemed to linger across his features. This mischievousness garnered especially in his upturned lips which I momentarily glimpsed at in a foolish attempt to alleviate the frenzy of nervousness I felt from holding his gaze.

Jaehyun noticed my wandering eyes, completely aware of where they had drifted off to.

My eyes returned to his only to see that they were looking lower than they had before.

I didn’t have time to question where he was looking before he began to lessen the space between us, his lips slowly enclosing on mine. Unable to do much else, I closed my eyes and turned my head to the side frantically trying to escape his advances which only drew closer and closer until...

“If that’s all you needed me for, then I’ll be off.”

My already tense body jolted slightly at the unexpected voice and my eyes opened just enough to see that Jaehyun’s face had retreated from mine.

“Ah. Yes. Very well.” Jaehyun coughed, making sure not to stutter as he dismissed his second in command.

As soon as Taeyong left the room, Jaehyun rolled off of me and stood up.

I quickly followed, but not before mouthing a silent thank you to Taeyong. Despite him having already left, I felt the need to express my gratitude, even if my thanks only fell upon deaf ears.

“Well, we both should be heading back. My mother will arrive soon, and you need to be ready to greet her. I’ll send Haechan over to fill you in on your backstory,” Jaehyun advised as his eyes hovered on everything in the room except me.

“I’m confident that you won’t purposely cause any trouble, that is if you don’t want to forfeit any of your six remaining chances.”

“I won’t.”

Jaehyun finally turned towards me surprised by my sudden willingness to obey.

“I’ll stay true to my end of the deal as long as you stay true to yours, including what you said about teaching me how to counter your attacks,” I promised.

Jaehyun nodded before making his exit from the training room.

<><><><><>

“Thank God he didn’t leave me with anymore bruises. Imagine having to explain that to his mother,” I sighed.

“Damn. That’s crazy.”

“I’m amazed he didn’t tell any of you about the deal he offered me.”

“He wouldn’t bother telling us about a bet he had no chance of losing, even if the stakes were this high.”

“Wow, thanks, Donghy- fuck, Haechan.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll take some time to get used to. I keep forgetting that I don’t have to censor myself around you anymore.”

“Yeah right, like you ever censored yourself around me.”

“I meant with hiding the fact that I’m a gangster, you idiot,” Haechan scolded, hitting me on the side of the arm.

“Ouch!” I howled exaggerating the pain before Haechan playfully tackled me, the both of us erupted in a fit of giggles as we fell on the bed.

“Come on, you need to get ready and I need to catch you up on your cover story. Mrs. Lee isn’t the type to be easily fooled,” Haechan explained.

Before I had returned, Haechan had already laid out a set of clothes for me to wear. I had just gotten out of the shower and put on a towel before deciding to catch my old friend up on what had occurred at my latest training session. I had wanted to catch him up on everything that had occurred since he and I talked that fateful night, but there never seemed to be enough time and I was sure that he already knew the basics.

“I know this isn’t your usual style, but you’ll like it I promise.”

“Haechan... It’s frilly.”

“No, it’s not, it’s... okay yeah it’s frilly, but this will leave a good impression on Mrs. Lee so just think of it as one of your burlesque costumes or somethings.

“You want me to pretend that wearing this dress to impress a woman whose son I’m being forced to marry is anything like wearing a costume for burlesque?”

“Yes... and sure it is. Think of it like this. You wear burlesque costumes to seduce your audience. Well, isn’t making a good impression on someone a bit like seducing them?”

I paused weighing his words.

“I hate how much sense that makes in a twisted way.”

An accomplished smile took over Haechan’s face.

“Now, hurry up and put it on.”

Over the past years of Haechan and my friendship, we had become thicker than thieves. We both felt comfortable changing in front of each other, especially since Haechan had as much interest in women as I had in gauging my eyes out with a rusty spoon.

“How do I look?” I asked.

It was a simple baby blue dress with a conservative cut to it. The neck allowed for only my clavicle to be exposed. The puffy tulle sleeves extended over the entirety of my arms, yet the see-through material didn’t leave anything from the eye. The bottom of the dress resembled an a-line skirt stopping right above my knees. The shoes Haechan picked out were simple white strappy sandals with subtle daisy decals where the buckles were. Although it wasn’t exactly an outfit, I‘d never choose for myself, even I had to admit that I looked like the perfect daughter-in-law.

Haechan gave the outfit a once over before speaking.

“Like you’re in desperate need of a hairbrush.”

“I know I don’t say this often, but I love how hesitant you are to say anything that might be considered unkind,” I joked sarcastically.

Haechan rolled his eyes before motioning for me to sit in vanity chair.

Once I was settled, Haechan began to brush my hair.

“It’ll be better if we keep as close to the truth as possible. If I’m being honest, I think that you and Mrs. Lee will get along almost perfectly something I don’t necessarily think is a good thing.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, when I think about it, you and Mrs. Lee have a lot of similarities, which is a good thing because that means that she’ll like you, but on the other hand, if she likes you too much, it’ll be harder for you to hide things from her.”

“Ah,” I responded.

I wanted to asked what similarities I could possibly have with a former mob wife but couldn’t as Haechan quickly began discussing the details of my backstory.

“So, you have two stories you have to commit to memory. The first one being the story we present to the public, aka the story that claims that you were working with NCT to take down Lucas. We haven’t worked out all the details yet as we need to come up with a reason for keeping Lucas’ death a secret, so you won’t have to worry about that for a while. Since Mrs. Lee is still a prominent figure with close ties to NCT and its leader, she knows that Lucas’ death was not NCT’s doing. Basically, the only thing that we are going to keep from her is how you and Jaehyun met along with your career as a dancer. Mothers aren’t exactly the types to squeal with joy at the thought of their sons marrying strippers,” he teased, causing me to roll my eyes.

Haechan pulled the hair out of my face and began braiding it.

“You’re a barista at John and J’s, a small shop in Itaewon. Jaehyun happened to be in the neighborhood and decided to try the place out. He noticed a man at the counter was blatantly harassing you, so he decided to step in. After the man finally left, you thanked Jaehyun and that’s when he noticed your necklace. He asked where you got it and you told him it was a family heirloom. Aware that this was not the case, Jaehyun started going to the coffee shop every day, making pleasant conversation in order to earn your trust. One day as you were closing, that man from before showed up and made another scene. Seeing that you were visibly spooked from the encounter, Jaehyun offered to walk you home. You accepted. Once you were at the door to your building, Jaehyun brought up Lucas. At first you were terrified that he was a member of Wayv, but he quickly eased your worries and told him about that night. After hearing your story, Jaehyun offered you protection from Wayv along with financial rewards in exchange for your cooperation. You two began dating shortly after and when Jaehyun suggested that you two get married for the sake of NCT’s image, you were extremely hesitant. Once it became clear to you that the council wanted to force Jaehyun into an arranged marriage, you agreed out of fear of losing him to someone else.”

I stared at Haechan’s reflection, mouth agape.

“What?” Haechan sighed, already aware of how ridiculous it all was.

“Really? I thought you said the closer we stuck to the truth, the better, not that we were gonna write a cheesy romance novel. I mean, seriously! What was that? After freaking out and locking me up, you want me to tell Momma-Mob-Boss that not only did her son reacted calmly to seeing the necklace, but that he fucking came to my rescue? Who wrote this? Dong- ah, Haechan, please tell me you weren’t the one who came up with this BS,“ I scoffed.

Haechan let out a sigh.

“It doesn’t matter who wrote it, it’s the most believable story we have that presents this marriage as something you would willingly agree to. We even had to fudge the timeline a bit, making it so that you and he met at the coffee shop a month ago instead of just a few days ago.”

“Yeah like a month would really make much of a difference. Sure, this man almost beat me to death, but that’s not the reason I’m so hesitant to marry him. I’m only concerned with us having only met a few days ago. Oh wait,” I spat.

“Well then, what are you gonna do?”

I huffed before turning in my chair to face him.

“What do you mean?” I demanded.

“What are you gonna do? Are you gonna tell her the truth and lose your opportunity to get out of here? And after that, what then? Are you gonna keep rebelling and pushing back against Jaehyun until he has to chain you up? Are you going to make your life a living hell all for the sake of your pride? You’re right. This is bullshit, but it’s the bullshit that’s gonna get you through the next week. And if you don’t win against Jaehyun, then get ready for even more bullshit, because that’s what you can expect to deal with if you want things to get better. Stop mourning your old life! Just accept that your problems aren’t gonna go away just because you fight against them!”

My body had tensed up as Haechan seemed to lose his cool for a second. I didn’t know what to say but I felt like I had to say something. As soon as I opened my mouth to respond, a knock fell on the door.

“Guys, Mrs. Lee’s car just arrived at the gates. We have around 5 minutes before she’ll arrive at the door,” The voice called out.

It was Taeyong.

“Shit,” Haechan cussed as he looked at me in the mirror. He quickly tucked a few loose strands behind my ears before motioning for me to get up.

“We didn’t have much time to prepare. Are you confident that you can remember everything? Actually, it doesn’t matter. Just try not to say anything stupid.”

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classified-bluerose · 6 years ago

Text

put me back together - quentin beck x reader

a/n: (mild) spiderman: ffh spoilers ahead. probably a very OOC quentin but hey... the man got me clownin’.

quick notes: reader is an avenger, quentin is quentin, this is far too soft tbfh but it’s fanfiction so \_(0-0)_/. just suspend your belief & hope u enjoy!

a/n 2: unedited, unbeta’d. idk man. i’m just in love w jake gyllenhaal (gylenhaal?) and mysterio is hot as hell.

(GIF is not mine)

—

chapter one: breathless

—

quentin beck is a meticulous man - he planned every facet of his revenge plot down to the smallest of details. arranged contingencies and back-up plans and waited, with the patience of a saint, for the correct moment to strike. he ensured any and all top-tier avengers were MIA, left it just long enough for SHIELD to pull together some semblance of it’s former operation but short enough so they were still finding their feet in the aftermath of the Blip. getting around the kid, parker, would be easy enough. he’d been through a tremendous amount of trauma, and quentin could use that to his advantage.

the one thing quentin beck didn’t count on, though, was you.

you, an avenger - or a former avenger, at least - who fell somewhere in the middle of all the others. not by power level, simply by how known you were. the widow and the hawk were rarely spotted and little was known about either, whilst iron man and captain america owned the heart and soul of the entire nation. banner was known for his destructive capabilities and thor worshipped for his literal godliness and appearance.

how shallow the common folk can be, quentin always mused.

then you - powerful, but not plastered across billboards or tv ads. quiet and lowkey, but not quite invisible. quentin was aware of your existence but never paid much attention to it, having heard that, following stark and roger’s deats that you’d quit the superhero charade and disappeared into the ether.

so, the man of mysteries found himself more than a little surprised when fury showed up mexico, with you in tow.

a little bit of panic hits as he watches you appraise the scene - this could be a problem, he thinks to himself, scanning his brain for any possible solution. it is only when he begins to interact with the shield agents that he notices something.

although you are standing in his presence, alive, solid, real, it‘s pretty obvious you aren’t exactly there. haunted images flicker across an otherwise stoic face as shoulders bow from the weight of grief and guilt and trauma. glassy eyes stare through and not at, words mumbled in montone in response to fury.

okay, quentin thinks, hiding a smirk, i can work with this.

—

the plan changes ever-so-slightly before venice. it is simple but brilliant, even if he does say so himself. having already laid the groundwork for his tragic backstory, it is easy to weave your character into the tapestry he was creating.

pained glances, longing expressions, a hesistant greeting - all little, subtle clues hinting to the fact that quentin knew you in his alternate world.

fury picks up on it first, of course. the spy who’s secrets have secrets still has the eye for detail he’s famous for. you, on the other hand, are oblivious to quentin’s actions - obvlious to pretty much anything happening around you. you don’t speak unless directly spoken too, don’t offer insight or advice on how to defeat the elementals. it‘s almost like fury has dragged you here in a bid to convince you to return to the fold.

quentin learns as much as he can about you as he flies over the sea to italy; not much could be gleaned from online sources but he pulls out just enough information to put together a rough sketch of who you are, what you wanted, what you’d lost.

you’d worked with the avengers since 2012, sided with stark in the infamous civil war years later - the idea of you being close to that man was enough to set quentin’s blood boiling - and had fought in both battles against the mad titan thanos. your powers were certainly impressive - your ability to conjure and manipulate fire set off a fresh worry. the final elemental that mysterio would face off against was the one made of ‘’flames’’ - what if you decided your powers would help with the destruction of the molten man?

quentin files that thought away for later as he clicks on a rare picture printed on some trendy news site. he almost doesn’t recognise the girl in the photograph as you. you were younger, looked lighter, did not carry as many ghosts on your back. and you were smiling. wide and bright and shining and quentin struggled to pull himself away from the sight.

when he did, he itemised the information he’d gathered into what he could and couldn’t use to win you over. after all, every superhero needs a love interest to protect, right?

you were close to stark, that much was painfully, bitterly obvious. newsreports following the aftermath of the last battle hinted at an intimate relationship with the black widow, too. both those people were dead and gone and that meant there was something missing in her life. an empty space that quentin was certain he could fill. the battle had caused some damage to your powers - almost like a battery, the effort and strain of fighting thanos had drained your energy quite significantly. you were slowly returning to your original state, but right now you were weakened, hurting. vulnerable.

perfect for quentin.

he gathered his information, updated the team on this latest development, and braced himself for what would come next.

—

when he reaches venice, it’s clear that fury has mentioned to you that quentin has taken an interest. you seem slightly more alert, meeting his gaze for periods longer than a half-second. your body language changes minutely - your arms, usually crossed tight across your chest, now hang looser at your waist, fingers interlaced. it is by no means a huge shift, but enough for quentin to make his move.

after a meeting with agents, fury, and spiderman, he hangs around the base setup, lingering at consoles and waiting for the last of the people to trickle out. you have stayed on to keep an eye on quentin - fury is no fool and recognised that this stranger from some other world could turn out to be just as much a threat as the monsters he was fighting. quentin couldn’t surpress a smile as he thought, oh, you don’t know the half of it.

he quickly rearranges his face when he clears his throat and approaches you, slowly. you glance up. he took his time to savour this moment - this scene he was most excited for.

he smiles, softly. ‘’ hey. i was hoping i’d a get a chance to talk to you. ‘’

no verbal response; you simply gaze at him expectantly.

quentin let his eyes take in every inch of your face - not a hardship, in fairness, you were beautiful in every way to him. if any other world really did exist she’s the girl he’d approach at a bar and offer to buy her a drink.

focus, quentin, he reminds himself, and breathes out a short laugh. ‘’ it’s so good to see you. ‘’

again, no real answer. just a tilt of the head, confusion in the eyes.

he let his fingers fall to the simple silver band on his left finger, twisting the metal around. your gaze follows the movements and there’s a brief moment where quentin swears he can see the cogs turning in your brain.

the blank expression breaks - a frown furrowing your brow, lips parting in a silent ‘’oh’’. excitement brims low in his belly - it’s working. she’s already figured it out.

you take a breath and turn your head away. when you look back, your face is neutral once again. but there’s something there - a softness that’s new. a tiny chink in the armour, all that quentin needs.

‘’ i’m sorry for your loss, ‘’ you tell him, ‘’ but i’m not her. ‘’

he nods quickly, ‘’ i know, i know. it’s just ... you look like her. ‘’ he falters in his words and feels tears building behind his eyes. seeing his watery gaze you clam up and he curses himself for getting too into it. after a second, however...

‘’ i know how it feels. to lose the one you love. to feel like it’s your fault, like you could’ve - should have - saved them, ‘’ you sigh and rub your face, tiredly. ‘’ but that’s not gonna help you save this world, quentin. ‘’

the sound of your name leaving his lips sends a tremor through his heart. he freezes momentarily - what is this feeling? - but quickly shakes out of it as you continue.

‘’ you gotta move on, ‘’ your voice is nothing more than a whisper, ‘’ you have a chance, now, to win, and you can’t let bad feelings ruin it. ‘’

you meet his gaze almost shyly, and he feels physically drawn in to you, doesn’t even realise his feet are moving until he’s barely a breath away. startled by the sudden closeness you take a step back and harden your features once again.

quentin apologises, sounding sincere, ‘’ i didn’t realise ... you’re not like her, not entirely. she was ... she didn’t have powers. ‘’ he lets the ghost of a fake memory flutter across his face. ‘’ but she was still the strongest person i knew. ‘’ his voice splinters on the last word and tears slip down his face.

you hesistate, he senses the uncertainty, and moves to turn away as though ashamed.

his stomach does a victory flip when your hand comes to touch his armoured shoulder. from underneath long, damp lashes he peeks down at you. you look as though you’re hurting for him and something harsh twists in his chest. he doesn’t have time to think about it, though. not when your hand slides down the material of his costume and finds it’s way into his.

you squeeze it gently, the unnatural warmth of your skin almost burning against his palm. quentin finds himself feeling comforted, tries to climb out of the moment and remember that this isn’t real -

he slips a little bit when you squeeze his hand a second time, and say, ‘’ just make her proud, quentin. you can save this world. do it for her. ‘’

his breath leaves him and he’s silent for a long moment as he gazes down at your face. he feels cracked open, raw, vulnerable. eventually, he nods, waits for his voice to even out. squeezes your hand back, a little tighter than necessary.

‘’ i’ll do my best. ‘’

|| Part 1 of ? ||

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justwritingscibbles · 7 years ago

Text

Debt Collection

Of course I need to write for this new ego!! Enjoy!

You were secretly envious of your partners ability to sing so beautifully. Ever since they started their singing lessons and gigs at that establishment, their ability to hit those high and low notes exceeded your own ten-fold.

You were so proud of them. And you waited almost impatiently for them to come through the door from their very first tour. One you had been unable to go to due personal stuff.

So to distract you from glancing at the clock every second, you picked up an instrument and start playing. You’ve been practising more and more recently. It was a nice activity to your already busy schedule.

It wasn’t until you heard some keys being jiggled and the door being unlocked that you put down the instrument and ran towards the door.

“Finally! You’re home!” You yelled. Throwing yourself at your partner, hugging them tightly as they dropped their luggage by th door.

“It‘s been so long. How are you? I’m sorry I‘m late. So much traffic tonight.“ They replied, squeezing you just as tightly. They kicked the door close behind you and took your hand. Leading you back to the loungeroom to sit on the couch with an exhausted sigh.

“It‘s good to be home, finally. You’re playing again?“ They asked, noticing the intrument. You nodded and smiled. Picking it up to put it away, but your partner tugged on your sleeve. Pouting childishly. “Play for me. I missed you, just sit for a bit?”

You couldn’t deny those eyes, so you sat down and started to play. You were only a few notes in when the front door was tapped by a series of knocks. Your partner frowned but sighed. Groaning dramatically as they rolled to their feet and going to answer the knocking.

You stopped playing and listened. Growing concerned when you heard your partners voice turn sour.

“What the hell are you doing here?” They snapped. They didn’t sound angry, but they definitely weren’t happy about whoever was at the door.

“I’m here to collect my end of our contract. You outgrew my place rather quickly, how was the tour? I went to one of your shows. You were quite... outstanding.” The stranger sounded male,with a voice so smooth. Dripping with honey on every word. But there was still a hard edge to the stranger’s tone.

“Babe, is everything ok?” You called, lowering the instrument a little.

There was a tense moment of silence at the door before whispered hisses could be heard. And then footsteps entered your home as a man in a black vest and red suit, followed your partner into the loungeroom.

His smile was genuine but it held a menacing curl. His eyes glittering as they landed on the object in your hands.

“Good evening. I didn’t know you had company.“ The man‘s eyes flicked over to your partner and they glared back.

“I didn‘t know our contract would include housecalls.” Your partner hissed and the man smirked. The fingers on his cane stroking the animal head affectionately. The glass ball seemed to gleam wickedly with every touch.

“You‘ve been ignoring my calls. And unfortunately I had to bring it here. In front of your lover? Yes?” Though his attention was fully on the other person in the room, you glimpsed his eyes wink at you.

Your partner’s hands clenched. They were shaking. Unable to look over at you as you stood.

“What‘s going on? Who are you?“ You decided to take things into your own hands. It was obvious no one was going to introduce you to this stranger.

The man’s smile turned friendly. Turning his body to give you his full attention.

“Call me Phantom, friend. And what your partner here has apparently failed to inform you, is that he refused to come pay his debt. A contract we made upon his first session at my establishment. And since he has finally reached his highest peak of performance, I can claim my end of our arrangement.”

You looked over at your partner. Unsure of what to make of what you were hearing.

“You made a deal? To what? Sing? You were getting gigs everywhere, why make a deal?” You were flabbergasted. They had been singing almost every week at bars and clubs. Coming home happy.

Why did they lie?

“Awww, don‘t frown, little doll. But you have every right to be mad. Because they lied to you. I was the one who got them all those little shows. Gave them money to buy new instruments and even dropped a few rumours around. I must apologise, he had informed me you were alright with this arrangement.”

You couldn’t quite understand why your partner never told you. This was a big deal! Someone with so much influence wouldn’t be trustworthy.... not without a written contract.

You took a deep breath and calmed your anger.

“If they made a deal with you, was it in writing?” You asked. And Phantom nodded. With drawing a scroll from his vest. Which surprised you because that fabric clung to him like it was apart of him. How did you not see a bundle of parchment against his chest?

“Do not worry. I’m not rookie at this. To keep our interests fair and signed; I wrote a contract up. And your lover here signed away their name to me.” Phantom explained this as he offered you the scroll.

You took it, ripping open the wax seal and unrolling it enough to read some of the inked words.

The contract was huge! And the writing was in such fine print that you had to squint to read it.

“What are the terms?” You asked. Glancing at your very silent partner. Who had taken up the couch and looking like a guilty child with a cookie.

“We agreed on simple terms. Most of which include shared expenses and royalties from albums and varies gigs. Your partner and their band would play at any stage they wished, as long as it was within my domain and they would have my brand on their merchandise.” Phantom smiled and intertwined his fingers top the cane. Flexing them as a last thought crossed his mind. “Oh! And in return for my little birds spreading the band’s name throughout the city, once he reaches his highest potential.... I get their soul.”

Your eyes widened. The shock of such a statement taking you by surprise. Before logic kicked in and you glared at the man.

“What does that mean? That you get full custody of the band name and the money made from it?”

Phantom laughed and lifted his cane with a flick of his wrist. “No, my dear. Quite literally, I get your little lovers soul.”

Phantom gripped the cane’s hilt with a wicked smile. The crystal ball edging closer to your face as Phantom leaned it towards you.

Before you could tell him to leave, the ball swirled with a reddish mist and a familiar face pressed against the inside of the clear glass.

“Oh my God!” You screamed as your lover beat against the ball. Yelling out a silent cry as the mist swallowed them whole and took them from sight.

You dropped the scroll and looked over to where your lover had been sitting. Finding their spot to be empty, and only your instrument laying on the couch cushions.

Phantom sighed and scooped up the scroll. Holding it up to watch it crumble away into flakes of ash. Disappearing before it ruined your carpet as it sifted like sand between his fingers.

“I am sorry that you had to see me do this. Truly. I take no pride in removing loved ones from.... actually never mind. I really don’t care.” Phantom chuckled and wiped his ashen hands on the couch. “To be honest, my dear, your lover was an excellent performer. I just had to have him in my Collection. But don’t worry your sweet little head. They’ll be taken care of in the best way. The best food, the best comforts-”

“Give them back!” You demanded. Cutting off Phantom, who turned a sad, but irritated gaze on you.

“No backsies I’m afraid. They’re mine now... so deal with it.” Phantom tapped you on the nose with the crystal ball and turned to leave. His eyes straying on the instrument on the couch. “But, and I don’t normally do this, if you’d like to see them again, visit my establishment. Play me something and, if you interest me, I’ll reunite you two.”

In a flourish of fingers, Phantom conjured a gold playing card from his sleeve. An elegantly dressed king, wrapped in silver and red, decorated the card as a King of Hearts. Beneath the artwork, was a number and street address.

“Hope to see you soon, my little songbird.” Phantom waved his hand in a final farewell before leaving your home. Closing the door behind him with a gentle tap.

#phantom #phantom natewantstobattle #phantom battle ego #natewantstobattle ego #battle ego #phantom x reader #phantom natewantstobattle ego x reader #battle ego x reader #natewantstobattle ego x reader #reader insert #x reader #dark youtuber xreader #dark youtuber #ego x reader #natewantstobattle x reader #natewantstobattle

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takaraphoenix · 7 years ago

Note

Malace on your triad thing.

1. Who’s the best gift giver? Do they go in on gifts or do it separately?

Magnus, but that‘s due to being rich, having magic and having the deeply seated desire to lay the world to his lovers’ feet. Jace isn’t big on the gifts - neither getting them nor giving them. Yet if they’re on a fair, Jace will win literally everything for his lovers. And Alec does the small little trinkets that “made him think of you” and effectively turns Jace and Magnus into goo.

2. Sleeping arrangements: Do they push the beds together? Who takes all of the blankets in bed? Who’s practically draped over the others?

Magnus. Magic. One giant, comfy bed. Jace likes to drape himself all over his boyfriends and hogs blankets.

3. Who is always in the middle in triad cases?

Magnus. He likes to keep one Shadowhunter tucked under each arm.

4. How do date nights look like?

Magnus likes to portal them to the most exotic places. Jace likes going to baseball games or classic concerts. Alec isn’t big on going out, he prefers to use the opportunity to just lay together at home.

5. Do any members get jealous? How do they act when they do?

Jace often feels jealous of Magnus and Alec because he joined the relationship later and fears that at any given moment, they might realize they were better off before. Alec gets jealous on Jace‘s behalf a lot. He gets growly and grumpy then. Magnus however… finds that rather amusing and he’s not the overly jealous type.

6. Who asked who out? How was the first date(s)?

Magnus encouraged Alec into asking Jace out together. It was small, simple. Just to reassure Jace that the both of them want him equally.

7. Who brings home stray pets and convinces the others to keep them?

Magnus and Jace continuously bring home stray cats. Alec just can‘t resist them.

8. Who are the reckless ones that make Bad Decisions? Who are the sensible ones who follow after them to make sure they don’t die?

JACE. Literally, he carries the title of Reckless Bad Decisions. Though Magnus and Alec aren‘t thaaat much better. They each can make dumb choices at times. So in a way, they all have to look out for each other to keep them alive.

9. Who’s the one who remembers everyone’s favorite orders at cafes/restaurants?

Jace. One thing I like about the books is how Jace remembers the dumbest shit. I think it‘s due to being raised by Valentine, being forced to memorize every detail in case it wll be useful for him later. So he doesn‘t even realize he does this, but Mag and Alec think it’s really sweet.

10. Would/do they have kids? Who are the Responsible Parents, who are the Cool Parents™ to the polywogs?

YEEES. They adopt Madzie and they have three own children. Ironically enough, I see Jace as the responsible parent, because he is so tense about never wanting to be like Valentine. Magnus is definitely the cool parent who uses his magic for his kids and spoils them rotten. Alec is somewhat in the middle, he is very responsible but he can also never resist his kids and their begging puppy eyes.

#shadowhunters #malace #magnus bane #jace wayland #alec lightwood #send me asks #send me a ship #jace herondale #OTP: one soul at a time

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samthepotterhead · 7 years ago

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(2/3) Blog - My HP trip to London - 15/12/2017

—Harry Potter: A History of Magic British Library Exhibition—

This exhibition was actually the reason for my trip to London, since it is only available for a limited time period and it sounded super interesting. I wanted to go to one of the Harry Potter “lectures” at the British Library too, but unfortunately they were either before my arrival in London or at the same time as the Studio Tour. Nevertheless, I was super excited for the exhibition itself.

-What I liked-

* The location. The British Library provided the amazing combination of “classic” culture, and fandom, which makes it so different from any other Harry Potter-related sight. The Library itself is also a very interesting and modern building, so if I lived in London, I would go there more often after the exhibition as well. * The shop. As much as I loved the shop at the Studio Tour, this shop was in some way even more amazing. It‘s very small, but has a very unique range of items. There was less official HP merch and more things that specifically had to do something with the exhibition. My favorite item was the grow-your-own-plants kit in the Herbology section. * The arrangement. The exhibition starts with the story how J. K. Rowling managed to publish book 1 and from there the whole exhibition is arranged by the Hogwarts classes. For example the second room was about Potions, where you got different interesting exhibits both about the subject in HP and “real life” potion facts. It was really nice going through such an orderly exhibition, especially after the Studio Tour a day before. * The atmosphere. They worked with different colors, lights and decoration in such a perfect way in each room, I was swept off my feet. There were always only about 10 to 20 people in each room, so that made a very calm and non-stressful atmosphere as well. * The exhibits. I thought I was going to see some old books from the British Library’s own collection and maybe a few quotes from J. K. Rowling, but I was wrong, so wrong. There were so many so very carefully picked artefacts from museums all over Britain (and some even from other European countries), such as the oldest known astronomical map in the world, a John William Waterhouse painting, or a handwritten manuscript by Leonardo da Vinci! Additionally, you have these amazing handwritten, unpublished manuscripts by J. K. Rowling, especially from Philospher’s stone, but also from other books. Then there are J. K. Rowling’s pencil sketches and some beautiful artwork by Jim Kay, who portrayed many Harry Potter characters without sticking to the movie actor’s faces (which I liked a lot). * The digital activities. There weren’t many of those activities on screens, but the few they had were very nicely done! You could brew potions, read crystal balls and tarot cards and if I’m not mistaken, there was one with animal sounds as well. Perfect for children and people like me! * The given information. There was lots of really interesting information, about the making of the books as well as real historical events and the backround of anything magical in fiction. The balance of these different kinds of information was perfect and you feel like you’ve learned so incredibly much, because they made these amazing connections between history and your favorite book fandom. * The price. The price was really fair and if you owned a membership card it was even for free!

-What I liked less-

* The crowds at certain exhibits. I’m actually talking about one set of exhibits, which is not a lot, but I want to say it anyway. There were about four pages of unpublished material by J. K. Rowling, which was the initial scene for Chamber of Secrets where Harry and Ron crash into the Black Lake instead of the Whomping Willow. This was a super interesting piece of text and just like me, literally 20 people wanted to read it at the same time. There was no way you could see the text or the two or three other exhibits next to it. In the end, I managed to read most of it, but the crowd was massive compared to the other rooms where everybody had more than enough space to look at everything.

-What I would change-

* Again, that is such a tiny thing, but I would have arranged the Black Lake scene manuscript differently. Somewhere far away from other exhibits so you have enough space to look at everything.

Conclusion: Yes, only one thing I liked less! I have to say this was one of the best exhibitions I’ve ever been to. I’d go there again, even if I’ve already seen the whole thing, but it was so interesting and unique, I loved it. That’s a clear 5/5 stars for me, I recommend it to anyone - with a small side note that I like exhibitions in general. If you aren’t much of a fan of that, you might not love it, but like it nonetheless!

#harry potter #BLOG #london

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theangelssecondwing · 5 years ago

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Chapter 7

From then on, Sephiroth and I would meet at the hotel at least once a week for some alone time. Summer faded into autumn. Not that it was very noticable here in Midgar. Sephiroth and I had now been dating for three months. And within these three months, I began to hatch a plan that would allow us to meet up and be alone together whenever we wanted, without having to pay for a hotel room.

„Would you be so kind and bring these documents to the archive?“, my father snapped me out of my daydreams for the third time this day.

„Oh. Sure.“ He was still mad about me dating Sephiroth and ruining his plans, but I didn‘t really mind anymore. I was so happy with Sephiroth that everything else had ceased to matter.

I walked out of the office, not watching my way… or who was standing behind the door. I only noticed when that person tripped me up.

„Oops, so sorry fatass. Maybe you should watch your oversized feet“, said Justine and gave me a devilish smirk. At this point, all she was lacking was a nice pair of horns. I got up, gathered the documents up again and shook my head.

„Grow up.“

She hissed. „No, YOU need to grow up! Can‘t believe you still think Sephiroth actually loves you! I had to put up with this charade for three months now!“

Rolling my eyes, I just walked on, ignoring her vitriol. I now had a light bruise on my forearm from when I caught my fall, but otherwise, I was fine. At least this would be my last task for the day, and afterwards, I had an appointment to take a look at an appartment close to the Shinra building. It was about time I moved out and started supporting myself. I had already filed a formal application for a job at Shinra and was waiting for their feedback. Until I got a job, I would have to use my trust fund to pay my bills.

Once I got out of the archive, I was promptly run over by someone.

„Argh! Sorry, didn‘t see you there!“, said a young man‘s voice.

„It‘s okay. I‘m used to falling over by now.“ I got up and looked at him. He looked like he was still in his teens, with spiky black hair and bright blue eyes that marked him as a SOLDIER. He scrambled to his feet and scratched the back of his head.

„Sorry. Are you hurt?“

„No, I‘m fine.“ I looked him over. „A new SOLDIER?“

„I was promoted to second class a few months ago“, he told me proudly. „I‘m Zack. Zack Fair. You will probably hear a lot about me in the future!“

I giggled. „I already heard about you, pup. Angeal says that you have a lot of potential.“

He dropped his arms. „Oh, you know Angeal?“

„He and I are friends.“ Somewhat, I mentally added. I had been so occupied with Sephiroth for the past months that I completely neglected him and Genesis. Zack narrowed his eyes to take a closer look at me.

„You seem familiar, too. Ah, I got it! Sephiroth‘s girlfriend, right? I read about you in that tabloid a few months back.“

I rubbed my temples. „Please don‘t remind me. As soon as everyone found out, I was suddenly public enemy number one.“

„A lot of jealous fans, huh?“ He grinned. „Well, gotta get going, or else I‘ll get one of Angeal‘s lectures again. See you around!“ And with that, he bolted towards the elevator. I slightly shook my head. Angeal hadn‘t been kidding when he said that this boy was as energetic as a puppy.

A little while later I stood in front of a big, luxurious appartment complex, where I was about to meet up with my (hopefully) soon-to-be landlord. He knew who I was (my father being a somewhat prominent figure at Shinra), so he was more than welcoming as he led me to an appartment on the fourth floor. It was really spacious; it had a big bedroom and living room with a window front that led out to a balcony. The bathroom had a tub that was big enough to have two or even three people bathe at the same time… Sephiroth will love this, I thought. The kitchen was top-notch, as it had recently been upgraded.

„What do you say?“, the landlord said with hope in his voice.

„It‘s perfect.“ We discussed the details, like rent and when I could move in, I signed the contract and then we parted ways.

I had barely left the building when I spotted Sephiroth in the distance, appearantly talking to someone. I smiled at the sight and started walking towards him. Then I saw the person he was talking to and stopped dead in my tracks. Justine was twirling her hair around her finger and gave Sephiroth a „seductive“ look.

„So when will you finally dump that fatass and ask me to be your girlfriend?“

„I would be careful if I were you.“ His eyes darkened. „Nobody talks about my girlfriend like that.“

„Oh come on, you can drop the act, Sephiroth! I don‘t understand why you keep pretending like you are actually attracted to her. I mean just look at her!“

And with that, she gestured to me.

He turned around and his face lit up. „There you are, Cora! I actually meant to surprise you when you came back from your appointment with the landlord, but I was… distracted.“

„I can tell“, I chuckled and let him take me into his arms, kissing him and burying my hands in his hair. Justine started wailing like a damn alarm siren.

„Disgusting! How dare you put your filthy hands on my man, you-“ She didn‘t get any further, because Sephiroth had unsheathed Masamune and now held it up to her neck.

„Not. Another. Word.“ He put emphasis on every word, and the sudden coldness in his voice made even me flinch. Justine just looked at him with eyes as big as saucers… and then ran off crying. Sephiroth sighed and shook his head, sheathing Masamune and returning his attention to me.

„Sorry about that. I wasn‘t planning on things getting quite this ugly.“

„Not your fault“, I replied, cupping his cheek with my hand and giving him a quick kiss.

„So? How did your meeting go?“ He took my hand and we walked towards the Loveless Avenue. „Will you take the apartment?“

„Already signed the contract.“ I grinned to myself. „I‘ll have everything arranged by the end of the month.“

As we approached the theater that always put on the LOVELESS play, who would be waiting there but Genesis and Yui, vividly discussing the play and how it held up to the book. They were in line to the ticket-seller, appearantly not even noticing the odd looks the other people were giving them. Then Genesis noticed us. „Sephiroth! Cora! Hey, are you going to watch the play, too?“

Sephiroth looked over to me. „Are we?“

„I guess.“ And with that, we got in line behind them.

After the play was over, the four of us went to our favourite café to continue our spontaneous double date. And while Genesis and Yui were excitedly talking about how they felt the actors fit the characters, and how the setpieces had matched the descriptions in the book, Sephiroth and I just silently held hands, watching them with a gentle smile on both our lips.

„What about you, Cora?“, Genesis finally asked me. „How did you like it? Wasn‘t it breathtaking?“

„It was… uhm...“ How was I supposed to tell him that I had been so distracted by Sephiroth holding my hand and occasionally lifting it up to kiss it that I had barely paid any attention to the play? „It was… fantastic. I am honestly speechless.“ Whew. Saved myself.

Genesis lifted his eyebrow slightly, but them patted my free hand, which was resting on the table, somewhat patronisingly. „Oh, you‘ll get used to it after seeing the play or reading the books a few times.“

At least he had the decency not to call me out for being a bad liar and not appreciating LOVELESS as much as I should.

Yui sighed dreamily. „The main actor‘s performance was really amazing. We absolutely have to go see the show next week. Are you two in?“

Sephiroth exchanged a quick look. „Oh, you see...“

„We‘re busy. Cora is moving into a new appartment soon. So we‘ll be occupied with that for a while.“

„Aw… okay, that‘s understandable.“ Yui waved her index finger in front of my face in a mock-threatening gesture. „Buuut you gotta invite us to the house-warming party.“

„Wouldn‘t dream of not doing that“, I replied, earning a giggle from her.

#The Angel's Second Wing #selfshipping #selfship fic

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mrmichaelchadler · 6 years ago

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Jonathan Rosenbaum on His New Book Collection, Cinematic Encounters

In the summer of 1972, Jonathan Rosenbaum was a writer and film critic living in Paris who had begun researching an article on Orson Welles’s original Hollywood project, an adaptation of Joseph Conrad’s novella, Heart of Darkness.

Learning that Welles was also in Paris during the off and on shotgun production production of “The Other Side of the Wind” and the editing of his essay film “F For Fake,” Rosenbaum sent him a letter with detailed queries about his screenplay. He dispatched the letter on a Saturday night.

On Monday morning, Welles’s assistant called and asked Rosenbaum to join Welles later that day for lunch. Upon meeting Rosenbaum expressed surprise that Welles would ask him to lunch.

“I don’t have time to answer your letter,” Welles responded.

The resulting article, “The Voice and the Eye: A Commentary on the Heart of Darkness Script,” first appeared in the magazine’s November/December issue that year. Forty-six years later, Rosenbaum worked as a consultant on the completion of Welles’s “The Other Side of the Wind.”

The Welles interview is also the taking off point for Rosenbaum’s new two-volume book collection, Cinematic Encounters. The first volume, subtitled “Interviews and Dialogues,” is newly out from the University of Illinois Press. In addition to Welles, the book culls interviews Rosenbaum conducted with such essential figures as Jean-Luc Godard, Jacques Rivette, Alain Resnais, Jacques Tati, Samuel Fuller, Raúl Ruiz and Béla Tarr. The interviews took place in various far flung locations, including Paris, London and New York.

The second volume, “Portraits and Polemics,” set to come out this June, makes for a natural juxtaposition, overlapping with essays and critical evaluations of many of the same directors like Rivette, Resnais, Tarr and Jarmusch. Orson Welles, who has loomed so prominently over Rosenbaum’s life and work, is the natural structuring figure. As the first volume is arranged chronologically and the second part alphabetically, Welles opens and closes the two works.

Though he retired in 2008 after 21 years as the chief critic of the Chicago Reader, Rosenbaum remains a prolific writer, lecturer, teacher and traveler. His work is archived at www.jonathanrosenbaum.net.

A leading authority on Orson Welles, Rosenbaum is also about to start a 14-week lecture series on the director at the Gene Siskel Film Center, in conjunction with the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. His opening lecture, accompanying a 35mm screening of “Citizen Kane,” is scheduled for January 29.

In a recent interview, Rosenbaum talked about the genesis of the two volume work and the constantly evolving nature of film criticism in the digital age.

The first volume is dedicated to the French writer and teacher Nicole Brenez. She actually suggested the idea of the book?

She originally said to me, why don’t you do a book of your interviews? I was already thinking of putting together a book of recent pieces. When I started thinking about it, I thought it would be interesting to combine these ideas into one big book. When I proposed that to University of Illinois Press, the editor said, “Why don’t we do them as two books?”

So are these the interviews that mean the most to you? How did you decide to arrange them for the book?

It was basically the interviews that I had in print form. I noticed there was a lot of difference between them in terms of how they were formulated and structured. I thought in a certain way, it became a kind of investigation into the various forms that interviews can take. What I’m trying to explore in both volumes is how much film criticism is a social activity involving other people. Sometimes it involves polemics and sometimes it involves dialogues. It’s against the idea that the critic is someone who has or should have the first and last word. That’s why I bring up the Hitchcock and Truffaut book in asking to what extent it is or isn’t criticism. Even though it had a great critical impact, I think there’s a lot of cloudiness in people’s mind about this topic that I’m trying to address.

How would you describe or define your interview style?

It‘s often confrontational when it isn’t simply looking for information or clarification. I should add that when I was a kid, I was relatively asocial. But at the same time I went to movies a lot. Movies are an easy way of being very social because you are with all these other people, but you are also alone. Film criticism is still social now, but in a different way because of the Internet. There was a book party in Chicago recently, and I knew very few people there. The reason for that is I’m fairly reclusive in Chicago but I’m very social on the Internet and when I travel. It’s a kind of a paradox, the fact that close to a thousand people read me on my website every day and I interact with them. At the same time, I don’t go out very much or hang out with other people in Chicago. I do that more when I travel.

Are you of the belief that interviews, when done properly, are a form of criticism by other means?

Not exactly, but it’s a way of exploring and testing some of the ideas of criticism. One of the things I talk about in the introduction to the second volume is that I am very much influenced by the French idea that cinema is literature by other means. Also, music and theater. It basically includes an involvement with all the other arts.

Do you have personal favorites of these interviews, or in the act of revisiting these pieces, what stands out about them?

I’m especially happy about the rapport I developed with some filmmakers: Sam Fuller, Godard, Jim Jarmusch, Jackie Raynal, Raúl Ruiz, Jacques Tati, Béla Tarr, and Peter Thompson, among others. In the case of Paul Morrissey, there is really only one of his films that I like a lot, and I certainly don’t agree with his politics, but it was interesting to hear his rants. I wanted some diversity in the book. This also applies to John Carpenter [a production story about the making of “The Thing”], because I’d never been on a junket before, even though it was kind of a fake interview, a phone interview that I had to pretend was taking place in British Columbia.

You first started writing critically in the late 1960s and early 1970s, the time of New Journalism. Were you influenced by those writers? You’ve talked about Susan Sontag, but what about Michael Herr, Norman Mailer, or Joan Didion?

Mailer did influence me, especially “The Executioner’s Song,” which I was reading when I was working on Midnight Movies with Jim Hoberman. When I was writing about “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” and David Lynch, that kind of pretending to be subjective when you write about someone else but you’re really being objective about your research, that was influenced by Mailer. Herr didn’t influence me at all, but “Dispatches” certainly impressed me.

I’ve always argued that I believe in subjectivity as a critic, but I believe you have to objectify your subjectivity. In other words, state where you’re coming from and not disguise your subjectivity as another form of objectivity.

I’ve never been a fan of Tom Wolfe and I dislike his smarmy showboating. I like Joan Didion as a political thinker, but I’m not sure how I feel about her as an autobiographical writer. I wouldn’t say that she’s been an influence. I learned something about style from Pauline Kael’s writing, but I reject her taste and her preoccupation with power. Sontag has always impressed me in a cultural way and also as the last of the New York intellectuals, plus the only one who was always very sophisticated about film. She was also sort of a friend.

The fact that many of these interviews occurred when you were an exile, or expatriate, in Paris or London, is that coincidental or meaningful?

It’s mainly circumstantial. But it’s true that by living in Paris I had more easily access to people than I had in New York. Everybody I wanted to interview I was able to. I tried to interview Godard in Paris, but he was recovering from his motorcycle accident, so I met him briefly then but we couldn’t do an interview. We did two interviews later, once in New York and the other in Toronto, and both are in the book.

“Noroît"

The Geraldine Chaplin interview is probably the most radical stylistically, with how you play with the form of the interview.

I also thought it was a way of challenging some of my own preconceptions. For instance, as interested as [Jacques] Rivette was in Geraldine Chaplin as an actress, I found out and realized that she had little interest in Rivette. She did not really enjoy working for him and had little interest in seeing his films. Maybe she saw some of the films later, but she was not interested in seeing “Noroît.” On the other hand, she was full of enthusiasm about Robert Altman because she had so much fun on “Nashville.”

Obviously in any interview you are challenging critical preconceptions with the experiences of filmmaking, which are sometimes quite different. But sometimes they can be close. I was very pleased to discover my grasp of what Tati was doing was very close to his grasp of what he was doing. That also happened to a lesser extent with Rivette.

Given your time in Paris overlapped, I was curious if you ever interviewed Nicholas Ray?

We were casual friends in both Paris and New York. I even wrote a piece called “Looking for Nicholas Ray” which includes some interview material, and I debated with myself about possibly including that in the book. It originally ran in American Film. After his death, I spent a lot of time with his widow, Susan.

Are there any interviews you regret did not make it into the collection?

There was one interview I could have included, but it’s more recent, one I had with Abel Ferrara. That was in Zagreb just a couple of years ago. But even though I’ve seen a fair number of his films, I’m not an expert like Nicole Brenez or Brad Stevens. I liked Abel personally, but I didn’t feel like what he had to say in our interview was particularly revealing or interesting. And I have no regrets at all about excluding a disastrous commissioned interview I did with Marco Ferrari in Paris.

You have written about your life and background quite a bit. Your life is quite different than most critics. How did that shape that development of your voice as a critic?

That’s hard to say, but it’s relevant that I wrote a lot of fiction when I was young, both novels and short stories. That obviously played a role, because I was thinking about form a lot, and I still think about that all the time, as well as voice. As for my frequent recourse to autobiography, that came from writing Moving Places: A Life at the Movies—my first book, and my own version of a nonfiction novel—and I later found it both natural and useful to use that in my criticism.

You have been very outspoken, perhaps even iconoclastic about this idea that the quality of the readership is more than important than quantity.

I have very concrete evidence supporting that. I got the best quote of my life from Jean-Luc Godard because I wrote for a magazine that has never had a circulation of more than 2,000 people, and he never would have read me if I hadn’t written for Trafic—a French quarterly without illustrations (apart from one small one on the cover) that was founded in 1991 by the critic Serge Daney shortly before his death. [At a press conference at the Toronto Film Festival in 1996, Godard said: “I think there is a very good film critic in the United States today, a successor of James Agee, and that is Jonathan Rosenbaum. He’s one of the best; we don’t have writers like him in France today. He’s like Andre Bazin.”]

When I wrote [critically] about Ingmar Bergman in The New York Times, I got a lot of abuse from people, and that’s largely because it was in The New York Times. If I had written the same article for the Chicago Reader, it would not have happened the same way. I actually think when you write for a niche market, what one writes can actually have an effect sometimes. It depends. I don’t want to be dogmatic about it. But in terms of my overall experience, I find the writing I do for smaller but more intense groups is more satisfying.

Given the importance of Orson Welles in your professional life, I guess it’s fitting that he opens and closes the two books.

That’s one of the kind of games I like to play, as inspired by [the late Chicago filmmaker] Peter Thompson and his whole idea of diptychs. For me it was very enjoyable working on the two books together that way, because I found that they were in dialogue with each other, the two books. And pieces in each book are in dialogue with each other. 

That time you met in Paris, in 1972, that’s the only time you ever met.  

The only time, just that one hour for lunch.  

Was he aware of your writing about him?  

There was hardly any early work for him to be aware of. That was the amazing part—at that point I had published almost nothing, maybe two or three pieces in Film Comment. I had published a fairly lengthy attack on “Raising Kane” [Pauline Kael’s controversial two-part New Yorker essay about the authorship of “Citizen Kane”] in Film Comment. It was a piece that began with the misguided assertion that [John] Houseman was correct about Welles writing almost none of “Citizen Kane.” I don’t know if he read it or not when he met me, but most likely not. He never alluded to it, although I did find out later that a copy of it was in his papers. He more likely read it afterwards.

"The Other Side of the Wind"

 The second volume ends with your essay on "The Other Side of the Wind." You worked as a consultant on the film, just as you had on the re-edit of "Touch of Evil" in 1998. What were those experiences like?

It was different in a lot of ways. One thing similar was working with huge corporate entities, which I don’t like to do very much. You’re getting people who don’t know much about film, and they’re afraid of alienating their boss and therefore can be obstreperous. I was less successful in getting certain ideas across on “Wind.” It’s not that we didn’t communicate but they decided to go against some things I was urging. I succeeded in almost everything with “Touch of Evil.” “Wind” was much trickier, because that was edited by a committee in which only Filip Rymsza had a background that was not mainly Hollywood.

I thought that doing the sound editing to match Hollywood standards was a big mistake. At the same time I understand it. In a way I am more irked by the Morgan Neville documentary [“They’ll Love Me When I’m Dead”] because it’s led so many people to think the dialogue wasn’t scripted, even though the script was published several years ago.

You are also about to start a 14-week lecture series at the Gene Siskel Film Center in Chicago about Orson Welles.

We are going to show the films, and then have a break and then I will give a lecture and lead a discussion about each one. Prior to “The Other Side of the Wind,” Welles and Stanley Kubrick made the same number of released features, which I find very interesting because Kubrick is seen as a great success and Welles, at least in the U.S., is seen as a failure. Both ended their careers in exile. So now Welles has one more than Kubrick, fourteen and there is a possibility of still others.

As these books demonstrate, you are writing as much as ever. Do you miss having that weekly platform in the Reader?

I think some other people miss my doing it, but I don’t think I do, except for the loss of steady income. I miss that. I had to see so many films I didn’t like and didn’t want to see, and I don’t have to do that anymore. For me that’s a big difference. I do try to keep up, though, in a more limited way.

from All Content http://bit.ly/2RVkE8j

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