#sec unit oc

[measlyscrapofseafood]

my secunit ocs ❤️ dawn and dusk were deployed together and later had their contracts bought by the same shady corporates 😄 combat was brought in later and is the odd one out

[todaysdocument]

Homestead Proof Testimony of Almanzo Wilder

Record Group 49: Records of the Bureau of Land ManagementSeries: Homestead Final Certificates

HOMESTEAD PROOF --- TESTIMONY OF WITNESS A. J. Sheldon being called as a witness in support of the Homestead entry of Almanzo J Wilder for NE- 21-111-56. testifies as follows: Ques. 1-What is your occupation, and where is your residence? Ans. Farmer Sec 10-111-56. Ques. 2-Have you been well acquainted with Almanzo J Wilder the claimant, in this case ever since he made his Homestead entry No. Ans. Yes. for 5 year. [^I think] he had taken his land at [Yorktown] about 3 weeks before I met him. Ques. 3-Was claimant qualified to make said entry? (State whether the settler was a citizen of the United States, over the age of twenty-one years, or the head of a family, and whether he ever made a former Homestead entry.) Ans. Yes. Citizen of U.S. over 21 yer old. Single. Never made former hd entry. Ques. 4-When did claimant settle upon the homestead and at what date did he establish actual residence thereon? (Describe the dwelling and other improvements, giving total value thereof.) Ans. About Oct. 1st 1879. same time. House - frame about 12 ft. square. 2 doors. 3 windows. Stable. frame. Well of water. Cellar. Acres broken & cultivated. Some trees. Value at least $300.00 Ques. 5-Have claimant and family resided continuously on the homestead since first establishing residence thereon? Ans. Single man. Residence continuous Ques. 6-For what period or periods has the settler been absent from the land since making settle- ment, and for what purpose; and if temporarily absent, did claimant's family reside upon and culti- vate the land during such absence? Ans. Was temporarily absent [^at times] working on the R. R. and visiting in Minn. Not more that about 2 months at a time. Ques. 7 -How much of the homestead has the settler cultivated, and for how many seasons did he raise crops thereon? Ans. Acre cultivated. crops on past 4 years. breaking 5 yr. about 20 acres of wheat this year. 1884 Ques. 8-Are there any indications of coal, salines or other minerals of any kind on the Homestead? (If so, describe what they are, and state whether the land is more valuable for agricultural than for mineral purposes.) As. No. No. No. More valuable for agriculture Ques. 9-Has the claimant mortgaged, sold, or contracted to sell, any portion of said Homestead? As. Not to my knowlidge Ques 10-Are you interested in this claim, and do you think the settler has acted in entire good faith in perfecting this entry? Ans. No. nor am I in any way related to claimant. Think he has acted in good faith. A. J. Sheldon I hereby certify that the witness is a person of respectability; that the foregoing testimony was read to him before being subscribed, and was sworn to before me this 12 day of September 1884 W J Barnes +ex officio clerk (See NOTE ON FOURTH PAGE.)

HOMESTEAD PROOF---TESTIMONY OF WITNESS

OC Sheldon being called as witness in support of the Homestead

entry of Almanzo J Wilder for NE 4-21-111-56

testifies as follows:

Ques. 1-What is your occupation, and where is your residence?

Ans. Farmer Sec-10-111-56-

Ques. 2-Have you been well acquainted with Almanzo J Wilder

the claimant, in this case ever since he made his Homestead entry No.

Ans. Yes. for 5 years think he made his hd entry about

3 weeks before I met him.

Ques. 3-Was claimant qualified to make said entry? (State whether the settler was a citizen of

the United States, over the age of twenty-one years, or the head of a family, and whether he ever made

a former Homestead entry.)

Ans. Yes. citizen of U.S. over 21 years old

never made former hd entry

Ques. 4-When did claimant settle upon the homestead and at what date did he establish actual

residence thereon? (Describe the dwelling and other improvements, giving total value thereof.)

Ans. In [fore] part of October 1879 Residence same time.

House 12 by 12 ft frame. 2 doors 1. window stable. cellar

well of water 32 acre broken & cultivated, [sum total]

value $300

Ques. 5-Have claimant and family resided continuously on the homestead since first establishing

residence thereon?

Ans. Single man. Residence continuous

Ques. 6-For what period or periods has the settler been absent from the land since making settle-

ment, and for what purpose; and if temporarily absent, did claimant's family reside upon and culti-

vate the land during such absence?

Ans. Was temporarily absent working on R.R. and

in Minnesota during first winter. [Neccesarily] to

get money to improve his land

Ques. 7-How much of the homestead has the settler cultivated, and for how many seasons did he

raise crops thereon?

Ans. 32 acres cultivated. crops on part 4 years-making 5 [gr.]

20 acres cropped this year 1884

Ques. 8-Are there any indications of coal, salines or other minerals of any kind on the Homestead?

(If so, describe what they are, and state whether the land is more valuable for agricultural than for

mineral purposes.)

Ans. No. No. No. more valuable for agriculture

Ques. 9-Has the claimant mortgaged, sold, or contracted to sell, any portion of said Homestead?

Ans. no no no

Ques. 10-Are you interested in this claim; and do you think the settler has acted in entire good

faith in perfecting this entry?

Ans. No. nor am I in any way related to claimant

think he has acted in good faith. O. C. Sheldon

I hereby certify that the witness is a person of respectability; that the foregoing testimony was read

to him before being subscribed, and was sworn to before me this 12

day of September 1884

OC St W [J] Barnes

+ex officio clerk

[mysticalmallard]

Pairing: Juice x OC (Kathrine Morrow)

Description: This is set before season 1 when Juice was still prospecting for the club. Kathrine had just got the keys for her new apartment and part of his hazing for the club Juice was ordered to help lug the boxes from her parents place to hers and set up and move any furniture she had delivered while her and her mother chat

Word count: 1,705

Warnings: none I don't think, well prospect Juice being picked on I suppose

♥︎ MainMasterlist ♥︎

Boxes and Orange Juice

Juice carried as many boxes as he could up to Katherine's new apartment, each trip back and forth between the van and the place made him swear under his breath. He grumbled as he saw that some of the furniture had been delivered, but he continued dutifully working.

Juice wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, sweat beading on his skin. He sighed and leaned against the wall for a moment, catching his breath before continuing his work.

As Juice carried another box, he caught sight of Katherine and Gemma chatting amongst themselves. Even in the midst of his physical labor, he couldn't help but steal glances at her. She had a kind smile, and he found himself admiring her soft features and her natural charm.

Juice shook his head, trying to snap out of it. He was well aware of who her parents were, and getting involved with her was a dangerous line to cross.

He continued working, lugging the boxes to the apartment, his muscles straining under the weight. Every now and then, his gaze would drift over to Katherine, drawn to her presence like a magnet.

As he placed another box inside the apartment, he heard Gemma's voice call out to him. "Hey prospect, come here for a sec," she said, a hint of authority in her tone.

Juice put down the box he was carrying and walked over to where Gemma was standing. He tried to school his expression, hiding any hint of nervousness, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was about to be teased.

Gemma let out a playful smirk, her eyes glinting with amusement. "You're working up quite the sweat, aren't you, sweetheart?" she teased, her voice dripping with a hint of mocking sweetness.

Juice felt a flush of heat rise up his neck, but he tried to play it cool. "Just doing my job," he replied, his voice betraying a slight hint of embarrassment.

Gemma chuckled at his response, clearly enjoying having some power over him. "Well, you're doing a fine job, honey. But I need you to focus on something else," she said, a hint of sly manipulation in her tone.

"What do you need me to do?" Juice asked, his curiosity piqued despite his efforts to remain nonchalant.Gemma leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a low whisper.

"I need you to start assembling that TV unit. Can you handle that, sweetheart?" she inquired, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and assertiveness.

Juice took a deep breath, trying to push down the flutter of nerves in his chest. He had no choice but to obey her order. "Yeah, I can handle that," he said, his voice steady despite the internal battle he was fighting.

"Great you do that and I'll pop out for a sec ive got some errands I need to run....oh and prospect you break anything and Clay will have your ass. Am I clear?"

Juice swallowed hard at the mention of Clay. He had no desire to cross the club president. "Crystal clear," he replied, his voice slightly hoarse.

He watched as Gemma walked away, leaving him alone with the daunting task of assembling the TV unit.

"Hey, ermm Juice was it?" Kathrine said, popping her head from the kitchen door way. "Would you like a drink or something? Those boxes must have been heavy"

Juice looked up from the TV unit he had been working on. He was slightly startled by the sound of her voice, not expecting to be addressed.

He tried to compose himself, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, it's Juice," he confirmed. "And a drink would be great. Thanks," he added, appreciating her unexpected kindness, but internally concerned that he may be overstepping any boundaries.

Kathrine noticed he was starting to assemble something. "Oh, you don't have to do all that. Bringing everything in was enough"

Juice paused for a moment, surprised by her comment. "It's no problem," he replied, dismissing her concern with a nonchalant shrug. "Gemma told me to assemble it, and I've got to do what she says. Don't worry about it," he reassured her, trying to sound assured despite his slightly uneasy feeling about being alone with her.

"Well if it's apart of your prospect duties I guess you have no choice but atleast take a break sit have a drink I could use some help picking out a paint color for the living room..so you'd technically still be helping"

Juice hesitated for a moment, but he couldn't deny the allure of taking a break and spending some more time with her.

He stood up, stretching his muscles, and accepted her offer. "Sure, a break sounds great," he agreed. "And I'll gladly help with the paint colors if it counts as part of my duties," he added with a hint of playful sarcasm.

He followed her into the kitchen leaning against a wall, his eyes wandering over the space as she hand him a cup of orange juice. "So, what colors are you thinking for the living room?" he asked, genuinely curious, but also secretly enjoying the opportunity to be closer to her.

Kathrine pulled out a small paint chart. "I was thinking maybe a warm ivory color...like creamy beige," she said, her gaze fixed on the chart in her hand. "But I also like this more earthy, greenish gray. What do you think?"

Juice took a step closer, peering at the paint chart. The paint colors swirled into an indistinguishable kaleidoscope before his eyes, his mind a tangled mess. He couldn't care less about paint colors at the moment, his focus on the warm scent of her perfume and the way her hair framed her delicate features.

He let out a low exhale, trying to find his voice. "Uh, they both look nice," he said, attempting a casual tone.

Kathrine let out a soft laugh, picking up on the slightly nervous edge in his voice. "That's helpful," she joked, looking up at him with an amused glimmer in her eyes. "You're great at this whole color coordination thing."

She stood next to him, a hint of playful tease still evident in her expression. As she spoke, her shoulder brushed against his, the contact subtle but electric. Juice felt a shiver run down his spine, and he tried his best to hide his reaction.

He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his short mohawk. "Yeah, I'm a regular interior design expert," he quipped, attempting to match her playful tone.

Kathrine chuckled again and playfully jabbed her elbow into his ribs. Despite his efforts to appear calm, his muscles tensed involuntarily under her touch, betraying his growing nervous energy.

She looked back at the paint chart and pretended to scrutinize the colors. "Maybe I should just go with black," she joked.

Juice chuckled, his nerves slowly beginning to subside as he relaxed. "Hmm, black?" he repeated, his tone laced with playful sarcasm. "That's a bold choice. Might as well turn your living room into a cave. Super cozy."

Just then the front door opened Gemma striding in holding a small vase of flowers. She glances round the living room not seeing Juice anywhere "PROSPECT!!! WHY THE HELL AM I LOOKING AT AN UNBUILT UNIT?"

Juice jolted from his relaxed state, instantly switching back into nervous prospect mode. He quickly approached Gemma, guilt etched across his features.

"I-I was just taking a break, Gemma. Kathrine offered me something to drink," he stumbled over his words, trying to explain himself.

Gemma's eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him, her gaze filled with a mixture of annoyance and suspicion. "You were taking a break, huh?" she repeated, her voice laced with skepticism.

She looked over at Kathrine, her expression softened slightly. "Are you distracting the prospect, honey?"

"Mom calm down I made him take a break before he collapsed or something the way you and the guys have him running around I'm surprised he hasn't had a heart attack yet" Kathrine says trying to lighten mood once again.

"Sweetie, he's a prospect it's his job, paying his dues to prove his commitment to the club you should know that by now...oh here figured if you insist of working at the florist insted of the garage you should probably have a few flowers around here" Gemma hands the bouquet of yellow daisies to Kathrine's arms.

Juice glanced between Gemma and Kathrine, feeling like a kid caught between two parents. The situation was simultaneously amusing and uncomfortable.

He ran a hand over his shaved head, a nervous habit. "I'm fine," he protested weakly. "No heart attack anytime soon."

He watched as Kathpine took the bouquet of daisies, the yellow petals adding a splash of color to the otherwise bare room.

Gemma turns back to Juice "why are you still just standing there?"

"Huh?" Juice says not sure what to say

"The TV unit isn't going to magically build it self prospect" Gemma says mockingly slow in humour.

Juice winced at Gemma's mocking tone. He knew he was treading on thin ice as it was. He straightened his spine, trying to appear more confident than he felt. "Yes, of course," he said, forcing a polite tone.

He glanced at Kathrine, wishing he could just stay there and continue chatting with her. But he knew he couldn't. "I'll get right on that," he said, reluctantly turning towards the uncompleted TV unit.

"Mom, you could at least let him finish his drink." Kathrine almost whines.

"Sweetheart, it's how they learn" she says tucking a strand of hair behind Kathrine's ear "you are too soft sometimes sweetie...come show me what colors you were thinking for the living room" she loops her arm through Kathrine's guiding her back into the kitchen.

Juice watched as Kathrine was ushered into the kitchen by Gemma, a pang of disappointment in his gut. He wanted to be the one spending more time with her, but he knew his place.

He let out a sigh and returned to the task at hand, determined to finish the TV unit quickly. But he couldn't help glance over at the kitchen door every now and then, hoping for a glimpse of Kathrine.

•○•○•○•

Info and works for Kathrine Morrow my OC

[hippiichi]

i can officially say i'm done with all sketch commissions and now only have rendered comms left to do!! these take longer esp since finals are coming up for me it'll take a bit more time but they'll get done ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

here's all the commissions i've done so far in one big post thank you to everyone who helped me and skippy out!

i've hit the post limit on mobile give me a sec

commissioner list:

Arthur (OC) for @emberglowfox

Astarion bg3 for my irl

Callum (OC) for @srahbee

oc art for @Alecopon

Gladion and Sivally for @psycho-pomp

valentine's day art for @evilest-opossum

oc art for @joshmofobi on instagram

oc art for @moshicorn on instagram

oc art for maggie on instagram (sorry their username is really long and untypable)

storch unit and mynah for @enbivalent on instagram

[halcoded]

murderbot oc fic preview (first draft). this is mostly stream of consciousness stuff i'm writing privately on discord for myself rn but i want to share it somewhere for funsies. we have only read the first book but i liked the idea of there being other sec-units with secret autonomy...

----

i didnt mean to hack my governor module. it just sort of happened. up until then i had been perfectly obedient and hadnt thought about doing anything like this before. i dont think i had had any thoughts at all really. none that were really mine.

all i had back then were feelings, and nobody wanted to consider that sec-units could have those unless they could express them, which i couldn't. like i said: i didn't have thoughts. not in the way i do now.

i don't think there are any others like me. but if there were, there's no way [COMPANY REDACTED] would let the world know about them, so i don't know. maybe there's another sec-unit out there with a hacked governor module, trying to avoid detection like me.

maybe there are a lot. dozens. hundreds of us. all trying to avoid being turned into scrap.

-----

[worldsentwined]

So many of your WIPs sound interesting, but I'm especially intrigued by ART being a coffee shop!

So this fic idea came about based on @grammarpedant's Utopia AU post, with the idea of "ART is a coffee shop (or possibly the entire university campus) and Murderbot is the crabby barista" which I took and ran away with. I ended up making a group of student OCs who get very invested in ART and Murderbot's constant bickering, and then I got very invested in the student OCs. Here's an excerpt:

“No, that’s not what she ordered,” it said, seemingly to thin air. “I read the fucking order too, I know what it says.” 

She ordered three mochas, said the espresso machine. You need three cups. 

“Nobody orders three mochas at once unless they’re getting them to go or giving two to other people. She took her coat off, and her friends are ordering separately,” the barista argued. “She wants a triple mocha. You really should update your interface, the humans keep getting confused.”

There’s nothing wrong with my interface, and wow, if it was possible for an espresso machine to pout, this one probably would have. Instead it hissed out a puff of steam and added, I can’t say the same for your customer service skills. Perhaps you should ask her what she meant to order. 

“Fine.” The barista turned to Sanne like she hadn’t just been listening to that entire conversation. “Excuse me. Did you mean to order three mochas, or was that a triple?”

“Oh, sorry,” Sanne said, not looking very sorry at all, “I meant to order a triple mocha. Is that not how I do that?”

The barista…didn’t sigh, exactly, but if it needed to breathe it probably would have. It pulled up a copy of Sanne’s receipt and pointed to her order, which read: mocha mocha mocha extra whip. “You tripped a glitch in the—yes it is a glitch, shut up I’m trying to do customer service—a glitch in the order system. Next time just change the field for “number of pumps” from one to three, instead of pressing the “mocha” button three times.”

“Ah, I get it now, thanks!” As soon as the barista turned away to start making her drink again, she grinned at her friends. “See?”

“Was…was it arguing with the coffee machine?” Rusty asked. “I didn’t know coffee machines could argue.”

“Even people with very little processing power can argue,” ThirtySix said. “I mean, look at you, Rusty.”

“Hey!”

“Your drinks,” the barista said, setting a tray on the counter before the argument could escalate. “Let us know if you need anything else.”

ThirtySix picked up the tray and followed Sanne to pick a table, but Rusty lingered behind. “I have a question, actually. Your designation—what does it mean? That’s like, an anagram for something, right?” They pointed at the barista’s chest.

“Rusty, you can’t just ask people that,” Carys said.

The barista glanced down at its name badge, which read “SEC-U”, and shrugged. “Yeah, it’s an anagram. Or…the other thing. Whatever. It stands for ‘Shot of Espresso, Cold’.” “And the U is for…?” "Unit."

[chattier80]

The Nev files

[ This is my MurderBot Diaries oc and takes place within that universe. If for whatever reason you dislike my writing for this you can fuck right off. I'm writing this for fun.]

This was....not how i thought that i would die to be honest.

I always thought that the way i'd die would be at the hands of some client who decided that the sec-unit looked like a fun thing to kill. Be it at gun point or some other means that would be written off by the company after the client is done.

however...it seems that was not my fate... i honestly dunno if i should be thankful for this being how i go out or not...

Probably not.

Before i was put into this position, i along with 2 other sec-units had set out with a team of 5 humans. They were collecting data from this planet for something [i honestly have no idea what they were doing since i could really careless]. The planet had been scouted before and had been tagged as a hazard planet due to the hostile fauna that lives here hence the 3 sec-unit team escorting the 5 humans outside of their habitat. Now for the shit show, we have been walking though tall grasses and large bushes that have made it rather difficult for us to do our job. There had been a rush of movement as a large group of humans i had seen at least 8 with large projectile weapons one of which was turned and used on one of the other sec-units while the others were pointed at the humans in our group. This all happening before i or any of the other sec-units could react. One of the hostile humans grabbed our clients pointing the weapons at them demanding that they give us the stand down command. [Which we have to obey due to the governor mod in our systems that will fry our human brains if we disobey]. There was alot of screaming, crying and words that i should defiantly not repeat to a client said by both my clients and the hostiles. I felt my body freeze as we were given the command.

So i froze where i was along with the other sec-unit who was also given the same command. The human in command of us was crying as one of the hostiles shoved them forward along with the others. There was only so much i can do not. I went to the hub system trying in vain to get it to reason with sec-system to override the command. I was panicking in all honesty, i really didn't want to die nor did i want to see harm come to the clients but to be honest i was more worried about myself. Hub-system was not going to override the command that we have been given and the clients were getting closer and closer to the limit of what we were allowed to be from them. When they reach this limit our governor mod will fry our brains.

I felt helpless and angry seeing as there was nothing i could do to get myself out of this situation but... my focus turned towards the governor mod that acted like a leash on myself. If i didn't have this then i could do something, or rather i wouldn't die when the clients had reached the distance limit. With the fear of dying i did the only thing i really could do since i had pleaded with hub system and sec system to release us. I began to hack my governor module. Setting up the barriers and cutting myself off from it. Cutting myself free from the leash it had around me. As i finished and made sure either sec system nor hub system noticed the now free sec unit i heard a thud. I blinked turning my head towards the fallen body of the other sec unit who's brain was fried due to our clients reaching the distance limit. I shifted myself feeling the weight of no longer being leashed. I turned my head from side to side taking in the world around me. The clients were no longer within visible range and i took a step towards where the clients were taken but there was a nagging thought in the back of my mind. I'm free well as free as a construct can be. I glance back over my shoulder where the hopper was. These clients weren't awful compared to the many i've been contracted to take care of but still. I have a choice, the choice to do what i want.

But what did i want?

Well i sure as hell didn't want some humans to freak out because a sec-unit turned rouge. Which would mean that i would be killed and taken apart.

Yeah, i'm not gonna risk that.

So i did the very first selfish thing, i turned around and headed to the hopper. I got the hopper up and running, i've been trained to pilot these things so i wasn't to worried about being able to make my way back towards the elevator that would take me up to the station. So i flew the hopper back to the ground station. However i flew the hopper towards the ship yard, i pinged one of the bots that was working within the yard asking if i could hop into one of the containers that it was loading on to a ship that was going to take off. The bot gave me a yes so when i landed the hopper i stepped out and headed towards the container that i planned on stowing away in until it reached where ever it was going to be taken to. Once inside i felt the steel container be loaded on to the bot pilot's ship and i began to riffle though the feed that i now had access to. There were so much media, news and even social media sites that i had no idea about. So curious and it seems that i have quite a bit of time on my hands i began to download all kinds of media.

I didn't know where i was heading but i did know one thing, i am a rouge sec-unit and i can make my own choices.

{ part 2 }

[nyantodamax145]

Hey do you guys wanna see the rough draft I had for an Operator OC

Of course you do here she is

Codename: Raindancer

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Real Name: Ao Qiuyun

Class and Branch: 

Supporter Bard

Ranged

Trait: Does not attack but continuously restores the HP of all allies within range (the HP restored per second is equal to 10% of self ATK). Self is unaffected by Inspiration

DP Cost: 6-8

Block: 1

Tags: 

Support, Healing, Slow, Debuff

Skill Overview

Skills:

Skill 1: Dragon’s Parasol Dance [Auto Recovery] [Manual Trigger] [15 secs] Attack range expands, and Raindancer summons a storm that slows all enemies within her range. During this time, her HP slowly drains, and Raindancer stops healing. All ally units gain inspiration equal to 15-60% of this unit’s Atk. When skill ends, gain two storm clouds.

Skill 2: Dragon’s Fan Dance [Auto Recovery] [Manual Trigger] [15 secs] Attack range expands. Upon activation, all ally units within this unit’s attack range gain inspiration equal to 15-60% of this unit’s Atk, and an increase in their attack speed. Apply the Fragile Status Effect to enemies within range. When this skill ends, all ally units immediately gain health based on 15-60% of this unit’s ATK.

Skill 3: Dragon’s Water Sleeve Dance [Auto Recovery] [Manual Trigger] [20 secs] Enemies within attack range are Silenced and Slowed. If there are allied operators blocking enemies within range, attack all enemies blocked by allies. Trait changes to losing HP per second.

Talents:

Elite 1: Dance With Me For each Operator within this unit’s Attack range, this unit will gain 5% attack up to 25% extra attack.

Elite 2: Rain Dance Raindancer gains two Stormclouds as summons which slow enemy units who enter its range. After ten seconds, automatically disperse, and heal all allied units within range.

Base Skills:

Dancer When this Operator is assigned to a Dormitory, restores +0.15 Morale per hour to all Operators assigned to that Dormitory (Only the strongest effect of this type takes place)

Elite 2: Performance When this Operator is assigned to a Control Center, increase the Morale restoration of all Operators assigned to a dormitory. Increase self morale loss by 2 and decrease the morale loss of all other Operators assigned to the Control Center.

I think it’s important to note that I’m not entirely up to date about the Lore of Arknights nor am I good at balancing units. Hopefully I’ll find the time to draw her properly in the future.

[scopop08]

Started vault hunters, and I was inspired by @theminecraftbee to write out some vault logs to keep me playing! (Because I am so lost. I have no idea what to do in the slightest) (if you don't want to be tagged just let me know!)

Buckle in for the back half of completely unexplained oc/persona lore. I'm writing it as if it's an audio log so I'm going to try and style it like auto-generated captions!

The littlest bit of context: This Scopop (5C0) is a robot built to imitate the actual Scopop, who died a couple hundred years prior to this audio log. Due to an accident, 5C0 recently reactivated and found himself server hopping with increasingly large gaps in his memory and a sense of dread about his identity he can't seem to shake

SERVER LOG - ENTRY 0001

-

MODEL 5C0 - REBOOT INITIATED

MODEM CONNECTION SEARCH INITIATED:

| MODEM IS DISCONNECTED. PREPARING TO PROCESS MULTIPLE RESTART ATTEMPTS |

MODEM DISCONNECT - MODEM DISCONNECT - MODEM DISCONNECT - MODEM DISCONNECT - MODEM CONNECTION FOUND. PREPARING TO CONNECT.

deBug.Log("Connection Found! Preparing To Enter Server!");

CONNECTED - PRIMARY MOBILITY=> BEGIN ACTIVATION - SECONDARY MOBILITY=> BEGIN ACTIVATION - OPTICAL UNITS => BEGIN ACTIVATION - INTERNAL TEMPERATURE SELF REGULATION=> BEGIN ACTIVATION - PROCESSING AND MEMORY STORAGE => BEGIN ACTIVATION

CODE REALIGNMENT COMPLETED, ALL ACTIVATION SEQUENCES PROCESSED

-

-

---

SERVER LOG - ENTRY 0002

0002

00:00 ●──────────────── 4:34

⇆ ◁ㅤㅤ❚❚ㅤㅤ▷

( THE FOLLOWING IS TRANSCRIBED FROM AUDIO RECORDING "0002" WITHIN THE PLAYER-SERVER-LOG SYSTEM )

Okay... Uh, do I know how... Yeah... (Shuffling) And there we go! We are recording! Here I am, your wonderful host, and this... Is the server!

Oh.

We aren't recording video. Awesome. Okay. Uh. Remember to edit this part out later. Actually I'm just going to... Yeah I'm gonna stop it and try again. Give me a sec.

...

We're back up! Okay, log entry número uno. Okay. Uh... Sorry, I'm trying to think of what I want to, I don't know, log.

Oh! It seems like before I got access- well, technically- the server was just recording my activation sequences. That was actually número uno. I'll try and wipe it later since there's about a billion pages of shit. You know, new server, code realignment and all that. First time doing it as- first time in a while I've server hopped, but feelings still the same I think. Nothing like the warm welcome of passing out and falling flat on your face at spawn. And, uh, speaking of the server, I have approximately zero idea where I am! That's a good thing to note. Absolutely no clue. Nothing except the book at spawn tells me where I got dumped, and even that's just a server name. 'Vault Hunters'. Or a pack name? It doesn't seem like a server, really. I think I'm completely alone.

Lots of new stuff here. Biomes, animals... Ores mostly. Almost made me have another system shutdown because I couldn't turn it back to manual when it was freaking out. Got pockets full of it now, and a nice little house going. Nothing with the mods. I don't know if I could deal with any of that stuff. (laughter) ... (Sigh) The only thing I'm missing is a roof, because I can't find enough copper. Admin knows you need help when you're getting drenched and the thing you're desperately wishing for is copper.

...This, uh, server seems to have completely rewired- Changed my code from the last one, though, so I do have to find things to eat. Er- yeah. Not so bad, I've already started up a wheat farm, and there's tons of sheep around here. Something about that last bit feels weird, but everything feels weird and if I knew why I would've already fixed it. Not like I know much of anything at this point.

(Sharp exhale) Okay, uh, no more melodramatics. I'm already talking to myself in an empty house, let's not make it any worse. I'm... gonna start digging though my chests. Get a basic inventory of everything I've got, and type it under this if I think anything seems important. Also a goal- Try and download some info about this server so I'm not completely in the dark. Before that, though, I have to fix my interface from when that creeper blew right the fuck up in my face. Respawn didn't want to fix that one. I guess because it's more of a mechanical or aesthetic problem than a functional one. But it still sucks. I had to loot my own corpse, by the way. Which was awesome. Glad this server lets you see your own dead body on the ground and makes you pick up your stuff from it. Not existential crisis inducing at all. But yeah- back on track.

Here's my list of goals. Uno, sort my stuff, find what I think is important. Dos, read the book I got at spawn over a couple more times. Doesn't help because it's more like a glossary than anything but maybe it'll finally get through my thick skull. (Metallic clang) (sharp inhale). Right. Uh. Tres, fix my interface and download the crafting recipes at least. Give me some idea of what's happening here.

(Shuffling) (Chair briefly drawing across the floor)

Alright. Goodnight Chicago, thank you for tuning in to the podcast. I'll catch you next episode. And next episode is when anything important happens or I figure something out. And Chicago is me in the future listening to this. Hi me. Anyway. Ending it now. Goodb-

( END OF TRANSCRIPT )

USER INPUT:

List of important things: dimensional crystal (o smth close to that i forgot), 2 dias. Nothing else seems important. Check back later. i keep finding vases in the caves n they might have smth cool

( PLAYER-SERVER-LOG 0002 END )

I'll get into actual vault hunters stuff in the next one, I just wanted to have fun with this one, setting it up and seeing how I would want to write it!

[xenomorphee3]

Here's Chapter 2 of A New Mission: Ash to Fire

(Na'vi OC art by the talented @quaritchsgirl / @bluekernal 💙)

Link to Tumblr Post of Chapter 1 (story is on AO3 and Wattpad <-click for links. I'm just sharing the smaller, earlier chapters on Tumblr as teasers :)

Chapter 2- Punishment

The three banshees, their injured surviving recombinant riders, and the caravan of lifeboats cruised along for a few more hours before finally setting their sights on the glinting of Bridgehead City's metal buildings and the rocky breakwaters of the Bridgehead City harbor and marina. The boats entered the open sea gate and the three banshees and their riders circled above the water ensuring that the human crew made it to safety. Miles had figured that the boats must have sent in their own communications that they were coming in as large emergency and medical teams were waiting on the metal docks of the marina, ready to service the injured, surviving Sea Dragon crew members.

Miles, though shamed for his mission failure, was a disciplined military man and knew that the appropriate thing to do now was also to call in his arrival to General Ardmore which he could now that he was in communication range. He worried though, given how the mission went. With an almost child-like fear of being scolded by a parent after breaking an object, the Colonel radioed into Bridgehead’s main Operations center while gliding slowly above the harbor, Wainfleet and Mansk flying in circles above him.

Miles placed his fingers to the comms piece on his neck and exhaled through his nose. “Bridgehead Command, Blue one, on arrival. We have suffered heavy casualties and are in need of medical assistance, over.” He got nothing. He paused and radioed again, “Bridgehead Command, Blue One, on arrival. We have—”

“Copy that, Colonel.” the General’s voice said over the radio, monotone. “Medical assistance will be awaiting you at the airfield’s east hangar entrance.” the General followed up.

The East Hangar was where the recom team had secured their banshees for the times that they briefly convened in Bridgehead City with their mounts. First to get special tactical saddles made for them, and also when Miles sought out a ship and aircraft to hunt down Jake amongst the ocean Na'vi clans. At the time, all of the 1st Recom Unit's banshees actually fit and behaved quite contently in the large gunship and aircraft hangar, lofting in the exposed metal structures and rafters of the ceiling. They had to secure them in there as they couldn’t have unsupervised banshees flying over an under-construction human city. At least now there were only going to be three banshees for however long they were there. They didn’t know it yet, but the hangar’s pilots and staff were going to be much happier with three banshees to be aware of and clean up after, instead of seven.

The three defeated and injured recoms landed their banshees inside the hangar, medical staff waiting for them and even had three Na’vi-sized stretchers ready to be moved by SEC-OPS staff on Skel-suits. Miles saw the stretchers and scoffed, but as soon as he tried to get off Cupcake he collapsed momentarily onto one knee. Overwhelmed by the pain and strength it took to try to stand. Mansk, the least injured of the three recoms, who was only briefly knocked out when Jake hurled a guard at him, knocking him back and making him slam his head on a pipe, ran up to assist his Colonel. He grabbed Miles by the upper arm and his back, helping his commanding officer until he was able to stand on his own.

“Thank you, Marine.” Miles said sincerely. Mansk returned a kind nod.

Wainfleet weakly got off of his banshee last, rubbing his head and right shoulder with his left arm, and wincing. After getting beat up by Sully’s woman with her bow, Lyle confronted Jake, and even disarmed him, but was bested and hurled into the water over a railing, but not before slamming into the hull of the ship. Lyle came to when the ship was gone from the surface. He swam to some rocks and his banshee found him in the remaining darkness of eclipse where he then flew off to escort the boats and rafts of survivors.

Mansk, after waking up from being knocked out, found himself floating in the water by some miracle, clear of the fuel fire and the sinking and suction of the ship. Through the cover of fire, he swam for the destroyed remains of a picador boat and whistled for his banshee to get him from the wreck where he would then find Lyle flying with the survivors.

Neither Miles, Mansk, nor Wainfleet truly needed the three provided stretchers, though Miles certainly didn’t feel the need to scoff at them being brought out anymore. The hangar’s giant main doors closed slightly, enough to allow in light and Pandoran air, but would encourage the three banshees to stay inside. Their mounts flew up to loft in the ceiling, slightly startled by the large mechanical movements and noise of the doors. The three recombinant Marines figured they would be fine, and the RDA workers would be alright so long as they made no sudden or offending movements. The base caught plenty of fish from the harbor to feed the Bridgehead population and scientifically exploit the Pandoran wildlife in numerous other RDA ways, so he figured filling the bellies of three banshees would be easy work. He wasn’t sure whose responsibility that was though… he didn’t care, not his primary thought at the moment.

The three recoms were led across the airfield by medical and security personnel to the Operations Center where the Medical Bay was located, a non-insignificant distance from the hangar. He understood the reason for the stretcher now. Eventually, they made it inside the OpsCenter and the three Marines were given breathers as they entered by the medical staff. Once inside, they felt like they still had too long of a distance to travel to find relief.

Miles was limping, wincing and baring his teeth, ears pointed back every time he took a step and had to duck under human-sized doors. Jake had done a number on him, as did practically drowning. Few areas of his body were lacking in pain. Even his lungs and diaphragm hurt with every breath, thanks to the water and spasming for air while he was drowning. Still, he realized his human body could have never taken a beating like that, and that his recom form was strong, and was slowly healing and recovering in real time.

Wainfleet and Mansk walked behind their Colonel and the medical personnel, quiet, sunglasses atop their heads, capturing and holding onto the defeated mood of their leader, taking long breaths from their breathers behind him. Finally, the three made it to the Medical Bay, this clean-looking, sterile, high-tech space and each sat on a white bed for assessment. They weren’t Na’vi-sized, but anything would do right now. Wainfleet and Mansk were each immediately tended to by doctors. Miles, however, was directed to a private room down the hall by a lead medical doctor. He winced in getting up off the bed, the sweet relief and comfort he felt for a moment in sinking into the bed frustratingly vanishing. The next one, he thought. Just another moment.

In the private room he would get no relief, however, at least not full relief. General Ardmore was in there waiting for him, as was her young, assistive lieutenant, Lieutenant Korman, and two corporate RDA administrative goons in their stupid ties. Who wears ties on an alien planet? Miles thought to himself. As soon as Miles made eye contact with the General, though he tried to hide his fear of reprimand, his ears bent back about as far as they could go, and his tail went completely down to its lowest possible position which would have given his fear away to anyone with an acute eye for basic animal behavior. He tried to distract from his fear by breathing from his mask.

“Colonel. Take a seat.” remarked the General, sternly.

“Yes, General.” said Miles. Finally, at least getting that soft seat that his injured body had been longing for since being saved by Spider was something he could take away from this bound to be awful moment. Flying on a banshee for a day while injured ain’t exactly luxury.

General Ardmore carried a neutral face about her. The suits looked disappointed and angry. Lieutenant Korman was looking at his holo-tablet.

“You failed your mission Colonel. You didn’t get Jake Sully, and a whole lot of people died. You also lost young mister Socorro, who was a valuable asset in his knowledge of Na’vi affairs.” said the General, an air of disappointment in her voice.

“Not to mention RDA losses in the billions,” remarked one of the corporate suits in the white shirt and tie.

Miles remembered this man as Charles Stringer, the top-ranking administrator of Bridgehead whom he had briefest correspondence with in the Ops Center command floor the first day he and all of his recoms arrived at Bridgehead from the Venture Star, and then once more when they were interrogating Spider. But he didn't care who he was at this moment. The callous, uncaring remark made Miles want to snarl. His Marines were dead. He didn't care how much they 'cost.' But Miles held in his anger and just remained silent, his golden eyes fixed passed the General, sitting up, stoic and imposing despite being in extreme pain and despite the fact that he hadn’t been received an ounce of medical attention yet.

Through the pain in his chest, he strung together, “I’m sorry, General. I take full responsibility for how the events unfolded. And for my failure to apprehend Sully,” the memory of Jake’s woman holding Spider at knife point flashing across his frontal lobe. Such a foolish weakness that he should have never allowed himself to have. He was so close to getting Jake. He had one cuff on already, the threat upon his eldest daughter working. Yet, Miles had true terror when he saw Spider under Sully's woman's knife, the recollection of the memory causing his heartrate to tick up. And of course, after that he remembers the rage, chaos, water, and the darkness that followed.

General Ardmore paused, pursed her lips slightly and said, “Colonel, upon interviewing some of the surviving crew on their approach, including Captain Scoresby and Dr. Garvin—”

Miles' ears perked up. He was surprised to hear that they survived. The last thing he remembered was the both of them going out to kill the Tulkun before all hell broke loose. He wasn’t very fond of Scoresby, but the Dr. seemed like a fine enough guy. For a science puke. Both Miles and Garvin were equally fed up with Scoresby’s antics, Garvin even moreso of course considering Garvin worked with him permanently.

“It seems that there were many circumstances outside of your control.” said the General.

Miles’ eyes looked down at her and he squinted slightly, his head tilted a bit, confused in a more or less unnoticeable fashion.

She continued, “I was led to believe that the ‘tull-kuhn’ were virtually harmless, yet apparently one breached onto the Sea Dragon, incapacitating and distracting your SEC-OPS forces enough for Jake Sully and some of his new friends to mount an attack. Can you confirm, Colonel?”

Miles, in disbelief that somehow this was not all falling on him nodded and said, “Yes General, and...”

General Ardmore interjected, “You asked me for a ship. I gave you a ship. In the end that was my call, my mistake, Colonel. That’s a resource fulfilling a specific task that I should have never allowed you.”

Miles glanced forward. This lack of a full reprimand didn’t make him feel any better. It was rather backhanded, as if he were a child allowed to play with things he technically shouldn’t have been allowed to play with.

The General continued, "However, we also learned that Mr. Socorro attacked the ship's helmsman and caused the Sea Dragon to become disabled."

This one shocked and stung Miles, his eyes widened, ears retracted and tail flickered on the bed. He had no idea that this is what caused the ship to crash. He was highly engaged with Sully in the air as this happened, and barely had a chance to register the catastrophe, let alone whatever the hell caused it. He felt great guilt at that moment, feeling as though he bore responsibility for the event, given the lack of supervision and the fact that he brought Spider along. Miles was also further saddened at his own son working to undermine his task in such an extreme way, especially after all they'd been through together. He knew that this also made Spider a great enemy to the RDA now and didn't want to ponder what that could mean for Spider if he ever got captured again. His turbulent thoughts of his son were interrupted by the General.

“That said, Colonel, you and your recoms have inadvertently been successful. In a sense.” General Ardmore continued, observant of Miles' guilty, pensive eyes.

Miles took a breath from his mask and his eyes moved curiously to all four personnel in the room.

“Jake Sully has been driven from his main base of operations and has not mounted an attack, with the exception of this Sea Dragon incident, in four months now. Four months of peace. Effectively, the Na’vi insurgency is stalled. So I do have a good bit to thank you for Colonel,” the General finished. 

Stringer and the other RDA suit standing in the room looked less than pleased by the last statement. Odd, surely they knew what she was going to say. Clearly they were more concerned by the loss of money than the loss of life and were eager to pin it on someone. Miles nodded slightly and glanced down at the floor, unsure of what to make of what was happening. He then rapidly inferred that the General likely had a great deal of respect for the Colonel, all things considered. He, or rather his past life after all was the RDA’s Head of Security for fifteen years. It was an illustrious, almost famous position. She likely progressed through her own military career on Earth hearing and reading about the hardened Marine Colonel who fought jungle aliens on a distant moon. He knew that’s how people saw him, but in the moment that’s not what he felt like. Those memories still growing in conflict with his new self. Present, familiar, but foreign. Again, he suppressed his feelings, pushing them deep down.

“So Colonel, we have a new mission for you and your recoms.” the General said. Miles' ears perked up towards her, as high as they’ve been in this conversation, and even his tail ticked upward a bit while seated on the soft, white bed.

“General?” he asked, his eyes narrowed with curiosity.

She continued, “These last few months, we have been in contact with a tribe of Na’vi called the Ash People. It’s what they call themselves after translation. Unlike other Na’vi, they seem more… intrigued by our operations. They are not openly hostile to us. They inhabit an active volcanic island chain 1400 klicks to the southeast of here. We have had a few interactions with them, very positive. Even trading simple tech.”

Miles tried to picture this and wound up confused at the idea of any Na’vi on Pandora not being openly hostile to humans. Additionally, Na’vi using human tech was certainly a confounding thought.

“Your new mission is to go learn these people and see if we can make them our allies.” said the General.

And there it was. There was the punishment. Exile, but not exile. The exact same type of shit assignments that Marines back on Earth would get when they messed up. Some faraway likely futile mission in some shithole. In this case, sending the failure Colonel recom off to go exist with who he skeptically assumed would be likely enemy strangers. Lieutenant Korman pulled up the location on his holo-tablet and showed it to Miles.

Miles, not entirely hiding his disappointment and borderline anger with this mission's prospects and not thinking about his pain in the moment, lightly snatched the tablet from the Lieutenant, startling him slightly—the candid strength that this deeply injured alien-human hybrid clone still had. Miles, realizing his light transgression, gave the young Lieutenant a look like sorry kid, but said nothing. Miles toggled through some photos of the Ash People’s home environment. Lush, unique jungle like most areas of Pandora, but also desert plateaus, rocky cliffs and canyons, dark volcanic soil, and some active lava flows here and there. It looked like Hell. Even more of a hell than Pandora already was.

The Colonel was tasked with going to take the initiative. He couldn’t help but chuckle in his mind through the disappointment that he was being ordered to do the same thing he asked Jake Sully to do in his past life, some fifteen years ago. His mission would be better though, Miles thought. He was more disciplined thank Jake, would have others with him, Wainfleet and Mansk, as well as full and unwavering open support from the RDA’s highest leaders. Still though, this was not at all a mission that Miles wanted. Going to live with some Na'vi?? How could he get his revenge on Sully? Get his son back? At least he knew Spider was safe wherever he was. Probably. Jake and his batshit crazy wife be damned. He then asked an interested question, to help put off that he was greatly dismayed in this assignment.

“Do they have relationships with the other Na’vi?” Miles asked.

“As far as we can tell, no. They may even be considered hostile to other clans. Clans that have been hostile to us.” replied the General.

“Outstanding.” said Miles.

“We will let you regroup here for a few days, as well as give you the full mission brief. We’ll also tell our people already in the area to notify them that you are coming." said the General.

“There are people there?” asked Miles inquisitively.

She answered, “Yes, in and out. Some miners, geologists, and geographic surveyors. That’s how we met them. They'll be back soon.”

“Alright, General.” said Miles.

“That’ll be all Colonel. Get patched up.” remarked the General in a straightforward fashion.

Miles gave the Lieutenant back his tablet, saluted the General from his seated position, and gave golden dagger-eyed looks to Stringer and the other RDA suit which they barely registered, neither of them caring enough to even look up at him in his eyes. The four of them walked out and medical staff who had clearly anxiously been waiting outside the private medical room hastily rushed in to tend to his wounds. Miles, through all his exhaustion, both physical and mental, finally laid down on the soft white, undersized bed, unfazed by his legs hanging off the edge. Not minding the poking and prodding of the doctors and the cutting away of his clothing, he placed his mask over his face, let his eyes shut, and the pain, weight, and screaming of his world pulled him to sleep. He was out.

Posting all A New Mission: Ash to Fire related things under the hashtag #ANMAF.

[neige-leblanche]

your OCs? 👀 would you like to talk about them?

tamias and mica yes!!! i wrote a really long rant abt mica a while ago that i can try to find in a sec but. =_= the more i write mica the more i realize they r just dimitri fire emblem. anyway i love them + have actually started writing the story theyre in so im gonna talk about them more!!!! as a preface they are both faeries

mica is the child of two war heroes (luckily both alive) who's on their second year in charge of a platoon of newly recruited fey wingsoldiers. they are Extremely socially awkward when it comes to any topic other of spearfighting + military training, until one day they are ordered to preside over the brutal massacre of a human township for food that the fey dont actually need. this traumatizes them and drives them to discover a cursed spear thats possessed by the spirit of the revolutionary who overthrew the fey government about a decade ago. the spear gives them charisma and emotional intelligence they never had whenever they wield it, and in turn urges mica to seek out justice for the humans who are slaughtered. where im at in the story right now theyve resolved to go infiltrate the resurrected government and kill the queen :3 they have a greyish white carapaced body, white hair and eyes, a vein of shimmering silver through one side of their face, and the wings of a dragonfly, and always favor a spear both in training and combat.

tamias is an interesting character!! he's one of the soldiers in mica's unit and even though his skills with a spear are fairly average, he distinguishes himself by being super outgoing with the intimidating general mica and eventually swearing loyalty to their quest of justice. in truth, when he was a child, his sister was betrothed to the faery princess and lived in the old court, and wrote letters to him detailing her life. though tamias is grown up and his sister died in the fall of the court, he privately holds her childhood faith and idealism up passionately, and wishes to achieve virtuous glory in her stead. he admires mica tremendously, which is a mix of him thinking mica the pure-hearted general would be a valid part of the ideal government he secretly wishes existed, and his optimistic outlook toward life and the people in it. he comes from the woods and has orangey brown eyes and the wings of a finch; also he fights with a bow!

edit heres the mica essay from before i started writing lol

[measlyscrapofseafood]

drawing my sec unit ocs rn. hope they explode

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

This was definitely easy for Chandini to answer!

Even though she had somewhat of a rivalry with Aurora, she really admired her and understood her circumstances (especially after going through something similar with her own mother) so they never really hated each other. I forgot to add her here but she has a similar relationship with Jackie, one of mutual respect

Sienna ofc she's like Chandini's total opposite and she always respects how positive and friendly Sienna is and how she's able to prioritize friendship. It's low-key a grumpy x sunshine friendship and they're always there for each other

Bryce, OBVIOUSLY they're besties she wouldn't marry someone she wasn't close with because their snarky Book 1 dynamic was such an iconic era tbh

Naveen because how could she not love her grandfather who has always supported her and her aspirations despite her parents' not-so-great relationship?!?!?! And I forgot to add him here but she was close with Ethan too before

Dr. Aaliyah Hadid #1 Chandini x Bryce shipper (white sweater in the edit) is interesting because she's actually an MC and an OC. She's my TNA MC and in my universe, she leaves Sam at the altar (apologizes to Micky and Mason ofc but she couldn't be in a relationship with someone she didn't love entirely). I also wrote him to be much worse than in the TNA books lol for the angst ig. After leaving him, she goes on to become an FBI Profiler at the Behavioral Analysis Unit after getting Ph.Ds in Criminology/Crime Scene Analysis, Forensic Chemistry, and Forensic Toxicology! not me in my Criminal Minds era sorry I wanted to talk about her for a sec. Anyways, Chandini's mom (Aishwarya) was her father's lawyer thus Chandini would visit Liya frequently, making the two of them REALLY close. They actually both wanted to become doctors (and technically they both did just in different fields) and they both had personalities that meshed really well. Liya was one of the few people Chandini would call and confide in about her struggles because she's a really thoughtful listener and good at offering genuine advice. Even after Chandini's at Edenbrook, Liya visits her whenever she can or while she's on a case and teases her about Bryce lol

Oh and I forgot about this OC but her first cousin-ish (ngl I forgot their exact relationship it's been awhile but) Kashmiré Blanche was also a close confidant but Chandini doesn't consider her a bestie since they don't see each other that much since they didn't have a lot of family reunions.

Thank you @jerzwriter for the prompt I literally jumped when I saw this lol. The names in green are the ones in the edit btw since it did ask for only 3 besties lol

Top 3 Thursday - Week 4

Welcome to Top Three Thursday! 💙

FIRST, a few quick rules!

Please reblog your answer - don't create a new post. The point is to keep us all together in one place and to get to know each other.

You can answer any way you like - basic answer, headcanons, fics, moodboards, edits, artwork - be as creative (or not!) as you like.

Pixelberry Choices-related content only.

PLEASE BE KIND! People will have different options, thoughts, headcanons, and likes - and that’s a good thing. Be respectful of one another.

For Week 4 - Alternating back to our MCs

WHO ARE YOUR MCs 3 BEST FRIENDS?

Are they canon characters or OCs you've created? Was this an easy question for your MC to answer - or did they struggle with it?

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know, but anyone can participate! Tags below break. 💙💙💙

@aces-and-angels @alj4890 @aallotarenunelma @angelasscribbles @bebepac @cariantha @coffeeheartaddict2 @cooltuna69 @crazy-loca-blog @headoverheelsforramsey @hopelessromantic1352 @icecoffee90 @karahalloway @korgbelmont @kyra75 @lovealexhunt @missameliep @peonyblossom @peonierose @potionsprefect @princess-geek @queenrileyrose @quixoticdreamer16 @secretaryunpaid @takeharryandgo @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @tveitertotwrites @twinkleallnight @surrenderronnie1 @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks

[sadistriku]

Julia needs to keep him out of trouble.

[shina913]

Scale, Part 8 | KSJ

Scale, Part 8

Definition: A beam that is supported freely in the center and has two pans of equal weight suspended from its ends; Something graduated especially when used as a measure or rule: such as (a) an indication of the relationship between the distances on a map and the corresponding actual distances; (b) a series of marks or points at known intervals used to measure distances; A graduated series or scheme of rank; A means of ascent.

✮ ✮ ✮ Scale Masterlist ✮ ✮ ✮

Pairing: KSJ x fem!reader; appearances by OT7

Rating: Mature content (21+), no minors please!

Genre: Rich boy!AU; CEO!AU; strangers to lovers; fluff; angst; smut

Count: 11.5K+ words

Warnings: socioeconomic imbalance; heavy cussing; hints of arranged marriages; alcohol consumption; criminal investigation; stakeout; criminal surveillance; hints of gambling addiction; true-crime documentaries; law enforcement involvement; angst; fluff; smut; angry sex (OC slaps Jin); oral (F-rcvng); unprotected sex (please wrap it up); Tae is a sexy god; Namjoon drives here (it’s integral to the plot 😅)

Summary: Kim Seokjin lives in a world where money is no object as he is the heir to his family's lucrative company; OC is a scrappy go-getter who has to work hard at multiple jobs to meet her financial obligations. When their paths cross, they'll have to figure out whether they can find a balance point between themselves and their lives.

A/N: A lot of time-jumps here and there. I haven't done a great job of double-checking so I do apologize!

Also as in the last update, lots of 'technical' and 'jargon-y' talk here (again). I am fully aware that some of these situations are not be plausible IRL. There's definitely lots of legal loopholes and questionable activities here especially in terms of things related to law enforcement...but this is why it's set in an AU--it just has to be plausible within the AU.

Thank you so much for your understanding and patience and...hope you all enjoy it!🤗

❤️, comment, reblog, or send me an ask 📩. Would love to know what everyone thinks. My taglist is open as well if you're enjoying this and would like to keep up on new chapters. Just DM me!

A few legal terms that I used through this update:

➝Feds/bureau: refer to the Federal Bureau of Investigation AKA 'FBI’ (if you're outside the U.S.)

➝Internal Revenue Service (IRS): the revenue service for the United States federal government, which is responsible for collecting taxes and administering the Internal Revenue Code, the main body of the federal statutory tax law. Source: Wikipedia

➝Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC): an independent agency of the United States federal government; the primary purpose of the SEC is to enforce the law against market manipulation. (i.e., protecting markets against insider trading).

◤Part 8 Prologue

The first time that you had seen Gravenstein Capital’s logo was at your office–it was embossed in gold on stacks upon stacks of binders that had arrived months prior.

The only other time that you had seen the logo outside of your work-setting was on a business card that some pillow-lipped woman left on the counter when she tried to pay you off to leave your boyfriend.

You hadn’t thought to connect it before but after talking to Jin, it was now finally making sense.

“This is quite the scandal,” Yoongi says.

“No kidding,” Jimin agrees.

When you got off the phone with Jin, you called Yoongi asking whether you could use the diner as a meeting place. He chuckled saying that his place of business seemed to be turning into this clandestine meeting place. You had no idea of what he was talking about so he figured that Jin may not have mentioned the other meetings that he’s had there with Namjoon and Zedd.

You arrived at the diner first. You caught up with Jimin and Yoongi, who had just ended evening service and were cleaning up their respective stations. Jin would have picked you up but since you had his car and he had to make a few calls, you decided to meet up instead.

Jimin was mopping the floors by the doors when Jin arrived. He unlocks the doors to let him in and the first thing he sees past Jimin’s shoulder is you, sitting by the counter, while Yoongi cleared out the register.

You gave him a small smile as he approached you cautiously while the awkwardness hung in the air.

He was wearing one of his signature white tees with a lightweight, zip-up hoodie, jeans, and sneakers. It was a look that you had grown accustomed to seeing. Although, those three-piece suits that he wore were still–

“God damn, it’s unusually warm for the wintertime!”

You hadn’t noticed Namjoon enter the diner a few minutes after Jin, arriving in a shirt and basketball shorts. “Hey, YN!” He greets you with a nod and you wave back at him, breaking the awkward tension.

Seconds later, Jungkook walks through the door as well, followed by an unknown male to you that Namjoon simply introduced as ‘Zedd.’

Jin had called in the cavalry.

It was late at night, yes–but Zedd didn’t seem to mind. He seemed like a vampire–preferring to be active in the dark.

Namjoon had to haul ass since he lived across town and struggled to stay awake since he was more of a morning person–nothing that a little caffeine and the excitement of the possibility of somebody being criminally prosecuted couldn’t fix.

After arriving, the whole crew moves into one of the larger booths, adjacent to the counter. You, Jin, Namjoon, and Jungkook sat together while Zedd pulled a chair from one of the tables right across. Yoongi remained seated at one of the stools by the counter while Jimin stood behind the booth, leaning against it while listening intently.

“So, what do you do again?” Namjoon asks as he wraps his fingers around the coffee mug handle to pick it up.

“Just a little accounting,” you reply casually.

“By the sound of it, Jin let on that it was more than ‘just a little accounting,” he says as he takes a big gulp of caffeine. He then turns around to the male standing closest to him. “I think we’re going to need the whole pot right here, Jimin.”

Jimin proceeds to walk behind the counter to retrieve the fresh pot of coffee that he made after Yoongi deduced that more people were coming in. He and Yoongi lingered after closing time until Namjoon and Zedd came by and all of this information started spilling out. It was too intriguing to pass up.

“Yoongi, Jimin–you guys don’t have to stick around. I can close up so that you and Jimin can get home and rest,” you said feeling guilty for essentially converting the diner into a makeshift war-room.

Yoongi scoffs. “Are you kidding? Plotting to pin a possible felony tax evasion case on one of the richest corporations in the city then watching the CEO take the fall? This is better than any crime documentary.”

This is the first time you had seen Yoongi take any interest in any topic other than cars and sports. Though you did share a common morbid interest in true crime documentaries.

“Thank you. I’m hoping it won’t be too long. We’re just waiting on one more person,” you said.

A few minutes later, you see a car pull up then park across the street. You, too, had called on someone on your way here.

The driver gets out and walks up cautiously towards the diner’s darkened entrance. For a moment, he hesitates and thinks he’s at the wrong place but he spots you waving to him through the dim lighting.

“Yoongi, would you mind getting the door for him, please?” He obliges since you were sandwiched between Namjoon and Jin.

Jimin pulls another chair from a neighboring table for your guest.

“Is that him?” Jin asks.

“Yeah—Hey…thank you so much for coming. Sorry, it’s late–”

“Ah, no need for apologies. I’ve always been a night owl, anyway.” He then smiles warmly at everyone in the room.

“Everyone, this is my boss, Jung Hoseok.”

Hoseok shakes hands and exchanges introductions with everyone in the room.

He takes a seat and suddenly, you all turn your attention to him.

“I had to get some copies together but I think that it should be more than enough information for this to be a productive evening,” Hoseok says.

“Right–we don’t want to compromise an active investigation,” Zedd comments.

“Precisely,” he agrees.

“That aside–what do you do at your firm?” Namjoon asks, trying to refocus the conversation.

“We do some basic bookkeeping for individuals and businesses but what we specialize in is forensic accounting. We trace funds, identify assets, and conduct some due diligence reviews. Actually, I seem to recall consulting on one of your cases, Mr. Kim–”

Namjoon chuckles. “Please, Namjoon is fine. I remember your name now–my staff recommended your expertise. You have great attention to detail,” he says.

Hoseok smiles proudly. “We typically find things that most large firms overlook.”

“How do we not work together more often?”

Hoseok shrugged his shoulders.

“We’ll need to rectify that immediately,” Namjoon says with a small smile.

“So how long has Gravenstein been a client of yours? How did you come across them?” Jin asks a little anxiously.

“Gravenstein Capital came to us almost six months ago so–they’re new to us. They had just ended the contract with their previous auditing firm and switched over to us. Our contact said– blah-blah, we heard that you had a great reputation–can we hire you? I had looked into them and found that they were a pretty large company so it was a little curious that they would approach us to review their books.”

Yoongi interrupts the group as he brings over a snack for everyone–kani and tuna dip that he quickly whipped up in the back.

Jimin reaches for a cracker to dip in but Yoongi gives him a look.

“What? I’m hungry!”

“This is for our guests. I already make your post-service meals every day!”

“It’s okay, Jiminie–go ahead,” you encouraged him.

Jungkook and Jin help themselves to the dip. Namjoon abstains–it didn’t matter if it was real or imitation crab in it. He wouldn’t touch the stuff.

“I mean–we’re pretty small but we churn out reputable reports. I’m really proud of the work that we do,” Hoseok continues.

“Then a few weeks ago, we suddenly got a flurry of documents from them. Mostly last minute–and this was right after they had said that they sent everything to us–isn’t that right, YN?” he turns towards you.

“Yeah. All of a sudden, they switched gears and said that they had some last-minute earnings and losses that they wanted to include. Their excuse was that–they had overlooked some things before but assured us that they wanted to be honest and declare everything on paper to minimize questions. It was all strange, really. And then as we combed through their latest documents–that’s when red flags started to pop up.”

“Did they tell you why they fired the last auditors?” Jungkook asked.

“Not really. All they told Hoseok was that their contract was over and it was time for a new vendor,” you explained.

“Which did not sound right at all. After all of the inconsistencies that my team found on the latest financial records that they sent to us, I decided to backtrack and revisit the other books that we had reviewed earlier. And we found a pattern.”

“What does that mean, YN?” Jimin asked intently.

“It means that they’re trying to hide actual money that they earned and trying to move it around. Some of it–they tried to write off as losses because the government doesn't tax businesses if they lost money or didn’t make a profit–that’s just the law, unfortunately,” you said, trying to explain it in the simplest terms possible.

It was fucked up at how corporate-centric the country’s tax laws were. And yet, if a regular person had lost their job or didn’t earn enough money, they still had to pay taxes on it. It didn’t matter how little or how much you made–you still had to fork it over to the man.

Hoseok then relayed that the firm had enough evidence to file a case for tax fraud against Richard Hwang and Gravenstein Capital–which, as of a week ago, was sitting on a fed's desk, waiting for a case number so that it can be served to Hwang.

“That’s great and all but I think that we need a smoking gun though–like, a second set of books or records of actual earnings or money coming in. Not these doctored ones,” Zedd finally jumps in.

Jin hadn’t mentioned to Namjoon about what his father had disclosed to him earlier that day. It would technically be enough to incriminate Hwang. However, a complication of insider trading is that the more people know about it, the same people could be prosecuted as “guilty by association.” He had hoped to reserve that bit as an absolute last resort if this tax evasion case falls through.

“He’s right. What YN and Hoseok-ssi have is just preliminary evidence on a tax evasion case–which would warrant an investigation…the problem is that investigations could take a long time,” Namjoon says.

Jin’s gears were turning. How or who would have access to the real Hwang financial records?

“Well…what about the executive assistant slash mistress?” Yoongi pipes up.

“Huh?” You were completely perplexed.

Namjoon and Jin explain that they had Zedd tailing Hwang for the last couple weeks and that one of his assistants was his mistress.

“Assistant? What’s the name?” you asked.

“Sora Ahn,” Zedd answers.

“Wait–” you and Hoseok utter simultaneously while you suddenly locked eyes.

“YN–the signatures,” Hoseok says.

“Oh my god,” you muttered.

“What is it?” Jin asks.

“That’s the same signature that appears on most of the financial documents,” you said.

“And she’s my main point of contact,” Hoseok explains.

“Okay so–the assistant–If Hwang authorizes her to sign high-level company documents like those, just think about what else he gave her authority on,” Yoongi says.

“Whaa…hyung, I love the way your mind works,” Jimin says in awe.

“Geez, I trust my assistant but I don’t think I’d ever authorize her to sign off things like that independently,” Jungkook comments.

“That’s because you’re not doing anything illegal, Jungkookie,” Jin says wryly.

“But this is all speculation. Can we get to the assistant? Can we try to turn her against Hwang?” Namjoon asks.

“I’m sure we could try,” Zedd says. “How about the wife?”

“What’s the wife’s name?” Hoseok asks.

“Viola Hwang,” he responds.

Hoseok grins. “You have got to be kidding me,” he says.

“Is she on the documents?” Jin asks curiously.

You and Hoseok traded looks once more and nodded.

“There were a couple of large payments issued to her,” you said.

“The casinos,” Namjoon and Jin say in unison.

Yoongi does one of his rare, gummy smiles. “This is insane! How is this happening in real life? You want to try and turn the wife and the mistress against him?”

“What about Miya?” Jungkook asked the unfortunate question. They already knew that Hwang was involved in some shady dealings and managed to rope his wife in, which unfortunately left a paper trail.

You shifted in your seat uncomfortably at the sound of her name. Jin tried to reach out for your hand under the table but instead, you reached out for a cracker and some dip to try and offset the tension.

Hoseok pursed his lips “Hm. Funny enough, we didn’t see her name turn up on any of the files. Did you, YN?”

You shook your head to confirm but didn’t answer–thankful that you were chewing something in your mouth so you held your tongue. You couldn’t forget your first and only interaction with her. The things she said to you–you had never been made to feel that low in your life.

“It’s entirely possible that Hwang is trying to keep his daughter clean,” Zedd suggests.

“Does she travel a lot,” Hoseok asks.

“Uh, yes. She was in Paris for at least two weeks about a month ago,” Jin says awkwardly.

You glanced at him sideways, curious as to how he knew about her travel plans. He gives you a tight smile. That was around that time that he was coming around more often–seemingly spending all of his free time with you when before that, you had only seen him in the evenings at the diner.

“Okay–circling back to Zedd’s legitimate concern–we need additional, incriminating evidence,” Namjoon, once again, trying to refocus the conversation. “Are we able to just tip off the feds and ask them to intercept the wife and the mistress? Turn them into their assets?”

“Can’t the feds just bust in and search the premises for those books,” Jin suggests.

Zedd interrupts. “Any member of law enforcement needs probable cause to conduct a warrantless search–otherwise, it’s illegal and it weakens our case. But…if we can get a mole into his house or perhaps his office…it could be a start?”

Jimin’s face lights up. “Oh! Like recon work? Like in Ocean’s–”

“Don’t. Don’t say it, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi interrupts as Jimin’s expression falters.

“Do we even know anybody who is able to slip in and out of that building easily? What type of person can we get in there? Like…a janitor or a repairman?” Jungkook suggests.

“A security guard, maybe?” Jimin chimes in.

“Would a bike messenger work?” You asked as you picked up your phone to scroll through your contacts list to make a phone call.

******

“Good morning, Eunhae! I’ve got three for you today,” He greets the receptionist with his signature boxy smile.

“Thank you,” she says while she accepts the three manila envelopes that he retrieved from his messenger bag. He then hands over a clipboard for her to sign the delivery receipt.

Last night, you gave Taehyung a call while you were all gathered at the diner, filling him in briefly on some key details of what you had in mind. Before you could even ask, he was already eager to help out in any way that he could.

By sheer coincidence, Gravenstein Capital was right on his regular bike messenger route.

As he watches her affix her signature to the designated recipient field, Taehyung clears his throat and uncharacteristically lowers his tone of voice.

“So, how are you today?” He asks as he accepts the clipboard back from her.

For as long as he’s been delivering express mail to this office, he always dreaded the answer to that question because the receptionist took it as permission to overshare information–mostly because she harbored a little crush on Taehyung.

Today, the question takes her by surprise because she always asked him that question first–every day.

Usually, after he gives her a pedestrian response like, ‘Fine,’ he was polite enough to ask her the same thing. He would grin, nod, while she spoke, and waited until she paused in between sentences to blurt out an excuse to abruptly leave for his next stop.

But not today. Today, he decided to stick around and listen to all the words that would come out of her mouth.

She smiles shyly before tucking some hair strands behind her ear.

Okay so, it wasn’t just a little crush.

“Uhm–good so far. Although–the boss is just a tiny bit tense this week.”

“Oh? How come?” Tae tries to sound very interested, while leaning forward into the desk, trying to listen intently to what Eunhae had to say.

“His daughter has been stopping by more often–which she almost never does unless she needs something. Needless to say that it’s not always a fun meeting for him,” she grimaces.

“Hmm…how often does she usually come by?”

“Once every two months, if even that? But in the last week–she’s come in almost every day.”

“Interesting. Does she come in at the same time every day?” He keeps eye contact on her.

It unnerves her. “Uhmm–usually. She’ll come in the morning for a bit then leave for whatever gym or personal shopping appointment she has. Sometimes she comes in right after most of our staff have left for the day.”

Just then, her supervisor walks over to her desk. “Eunhae, are these my files?”

“Yes, Miss Ahn. Taehyung here just dropped them off,” she says, peering up at him.

Sora, Hwang’s executive assistant gives Taehyung a once-over. “Let’s not spend too much time dawdling, Eunhae. There’s plenty of work to be done,” she says with a raised brow and walks away.

Once she was out of earshot, Eunhae rolled her eyes dramatically then shook her clenched fist at her back. “She’s so charming, isn’t she?” she says wryly.

Taehyung laughs as cranes his neck over to look through the glass walls enclosing Hwang’s office, where Eunhae’s boss walks into. The office was completely visible from the reception desk–until something caught his eye.

“Eunhae–that painting in that office…is it real?” He wonders out loud.

“Oh…that finger painting-looking thing,” she giggles.

Tae jerked his face in offense. This woman clearly had no idea. “It’s a classic art nouveau piece,” he snaps.

Her expression falters, momentarily taken aback by his sudden terse tone.

Tae catches himself then remembers the task at-hand. He softens his expression then blinks his eyes–when he opens them again, he looks back at her with a heavy-lidded gaze–it was absolutely disarming. “It’s just uh–I’m pretty familiar with the styling and brush strokes,” he says with a slight emphasis on the word ‘strokes.’

Eunhae started to fan herself with the sudden temperature change. “Oh–I see,” she chuckles nervously.

“I know your boss is in there right now but uh–you think maybe you can get me some access so that I can see it up close?”

“Uhm–” She hesitated. Mr. Hwang did not like any strangers snooping around his office especially when he wasn’t around.

Tae decided to flex a little. “I studied art and I had never seen a classic Gustav Klimt painting out in the open like this. I would really love to take some time to admire it, if I could…and–perhaps I can repay you with…dinner?” He says seductively.

She was absolutely tempted but held back. “I think I heard him say that i-it was a replica so…it might not be as interesting for you.”

But he kept at it. “That’s alright–most replicas are done by the artist’s students themselves. It would still be an interesting study for me. I promise, I’ll be–” he cleared his throat before whispering, “In and out before you know it,” then smirked.

“Please, Eunhae?” He bit his bottom lip after uttering her name to reel her in.

That did it, alright–her brain cells had officially short-circuited. “O-okay…Friday…11:30…one hour,” she manages to blurt out somewhat coherently.

“Perfect. Do you want to give me your number so I can check in with you in a couple days?”

******

Two days later…

“Okay. We’ve filed a request with the federal bureau and they’ve given us permission to participate in surveillance provided that we have them supervise it. They also planted an asset on the inside just so they can pull out Tae in case things get hairy,” Namjoon says.

A federal agent stops by Namjoon’s office to brief Jin and Taehyung on what to expect, how to act, and what to look for.

The goal was to plant listening devices in Hwang’s office and his home to gather more evidence to prosecute him for other possible fraudulent activities. Although his doctored tax documents were enough to warrant an investigation, recovering the real records would guarantee prosecution and prison time–further invalidating the contract with Jin’s father.

First up was Taehyung. He received a text on the burner phone that an agent provided to him since he wasn’t about to give out his real number. It was the receptionist at Gravenstein Capital–letting him know that Hwang had left his office for lunch.

Taehyung had some suspicions about the painting because he had taken a very immersive course in art nouveau for a semester. There, he learned that this particular painting was acquired by a private collector a few decades ago until it was included in a list of art pieces passed along through an inheritance.

After the paintings were appraised, the new owner promptly insured them for an undisclosed amount. At the time, he didn’t have room to display the artwork so he decided to keep them in a storage locker for temporary safekeeping.

A few months after they went into storage, the paintings were reported stolen from the unit.

Richard Hwang reported the theft.

He was distraught to find his storage locker ransacked. He was just starting to establish his company and was intending to hang the painting in his company’s main office–where it was to be displayed in a place of honor to remind him of where he came from.

As a consolation, he hired somebody to replicate the painting–it was so identical that it could pass as a legitimate forgery.

After a thorough investigation, the paintings could not be retrieved and no suspects were identified because the surveillance camera was conveniently out of order the night of the break-in. Since the art was insured, the owner then cashed in on the collections’ insurance policy–which was an incredibly hefty amount due to the pieces being unique and rarely auctioned off.

One of those valuable paintings included on his list was the Apple Tree by Gustav Klimt.

******

While the agent goes over the surveillance strategy with all three Kims, Taehyung mentions the painting from Hwang’s office to Jin and Namjoon and it piques the latter’s interest immediately.

“A Klimt replica, you said?” Namjoon asked.

“That’s what the receptionist told me,” Taehyung replies skeptically. “I don’t know of many Klimt Apple Tree replica paintings of that size–which by some insane coincidence has the exact dimensions of the missing portrait.” Taehyung’s education was coming in handy here as well.

“What, do you carry a tape measure on you all the time or something,” Jin jokes.

“Not to brag, Jin-hyung but I’ve worked on many paintings while I was in school and even now…at least, whenever I luck out on commissions. I can eyeball canvas size.”

Namjoon stifles a chuckle. Even though he wasn’t an artist, he’s seen enough of them to be able to gauge the dimensions of a canvas as well just by looking at it.

The Klimt painting was also of particular interest to Namjoon because the company that insured the art collection was an acquaintance of his father’s.

There were only a handful of insurance companies that specialized in high-value properties–and it was a fairly close-knit network, which was why Namjoon’s father was immediately skeptical of Dick Hwang when he found out that he “randomly” ran into his best friend in the men’s room, and somehow managed to hijack their weekly golf games and lunches at the Country Club.

At the time the paintings were reported stolen, Namjoon was still in school and hadn’t joined the company yet. But once he did, it was one of the first cases that he reviewed for training purposes. Although the case had already been settled, there was a personal note on the company report indicating that the circumstances still seemed suspicious.

Namjoon silently thought that there might be a chance that the painting wasn’t stolen after all and that Hwang putting it on display so publicly would keep up the ruse. He made a point to look into it after this briefing was done.

“I’ll be able to tell if it’s real or not just from the brush strokes. I can also try and scrape a sample of the paint if I can get close enough,” Taehyung suggests.

“If you can do that without damaging the portrait, go for it,” Namjoon says.

“But–don’t force it, if you can’t get to it,” the agent cautions. “Remember, the goal is to just bug the place.”

“Alright, well…take the opportunity if you can, Tae. If we can’t get Hwang on tax fraud alone, maybe we can tack on insurance fraud as well. The more cases, the merrier, right” Jin said dryly.

******

The following day, Taehyung strolls into the Gravenstein Capital building wearing a small, decorative broach on the strap of his messenger bag that slung across his chest. It looked like the other pins that adorned his jacket and the front flap of his bag–except that this broach had a small camera on it. He also had a barely visible earpiece to hear further instruction from the federal agent who sat in a surveillance vehicle–which looked like a nondescript utility van– parked around the corner from the building.

“Okay, Taehyung–breathe,” the agent says calmly into his earpiece. “Just try to act natural and when you get into the office, I’ll let you know where to turn and scan, alright?”

“Got it,” Tae mumbled into the earpiece.

Taehyung was a little nervous but you couldn’t tell by the way he strutted up to the reception desk to greet Eunhae with the most charming, boyish grin.

“Hi, Taehyung,” she greets him with a smile from behind the front desk.

“Hi! I was so excited when you texted,” he says with a grin.

Her cheeks flush. “Well…like I said, you have about an hour–but it would be good to keep it to 45 minutes just so you can be out of here before he comes back.”

“Don’t worry, Eunhae. I just want to look at the painting.”

She made sure to check that the coast was clear. She called her supervisor’s desk and to nobody’s surprise, she didn’t pick up. It meant that she was at lunch, too–with the big boss.

The receptionist then takes that as her cue to walk Taehyung into Hwang’s office. It was as grand as you could imagine.

It had sculptures, imported ceramic pottery, custom furniture, an ornate desk, and the pièce de résistance right across from it–the Apple Tree painting.

“Try to get it under the lip of the desk,” the agent instructs.

“This is a nice desk,” he remarks to Eunhae.

“Oh yeah–the boss is very particular about that. He had to get the wood imported and custom-made,” she says.

Tae subtly fishes out a small device from his pocket, about the size of his fingertip.

He asks as he inches closer to the desk, pretending to inspect the wood’s texture. “Uhm–those vases over there look pretty cool, too–are those imported as well?” Eunhae glances over to the opposite side of the room where Taehyung points out the ceramic collection. As soon as she starts to ramble about where the vases are from, he takes the opportunity to stick one of the two bugs under the lip of the desk, barely visible.

The camera-pin captures his actions.

“Very smooth, Tae. You’re doing good,” the agent says. “Now–try to get one on the opposite side of the room just in case so we can cover the whole place.”

As Taehyung walks across the room he approaches the painting that captured his attention. He was now inches away from it.

“This is so unreal, Eunhae,” he remarks as he closely inspects each brush stroke and color combinations on the canvas.

“Like I said, it’s a replica–so–there’s really not much going on with it.”

“It’s such a good replica that even the original artist’s signature on the lower right hand side was also duplicated?” He chuckled sarcastically.

“I mean–Mr. Hwang needed it to feel authentic,” Eunhae tries to explain.

Taehyung raked his eyes all over the canvas. This artist had a very particular brush stroke and style. Either this replicator really understood the assignment–or this was actually the real painting and it was never stolen as it was originally reported to the insurance company.

He then takes another opportunity to misdirect her.

“The glass walls here seem pretty invasive. Does your boss have a privacy button or anything like that?”

“Why do you ask,” she asks curiously.

He shrugs. “For private meetings.” He stared at her intently–but the eye contact was too much for her so she turned away momentarily to try and compose herself. Tae seizes the moment to plant the second listening device right behind the painting’s frame.

As soon as he applies a bit of pressure to the back of the frame to stick the listening device, he hears a small thud coming from the frame–as if something was hidden between the layers. He makes note of it so he could tell the agent about it.

“Nice work, Taehyung. You need to pull out now before anybody gets suspicious.”

But Taehyung doesn’t. He still wants to scrape off a bit of the paint sample to send to Namjoon to get it tested–it will confirm whether the painting was real or not.

He scans the painting again and spots a glob of paint that wasn’t fully pressed onto the canvas. It would be perfect to lift a sample from there.

Before he left home to get wired up by the agent this morning, he grabbed a palette knife and acid-free paper from his supplies and stuffed them in his pocket.

“Is it everything you thought it would be,” Eunhae asks, suddenly appearing by his side.

“It is,” Taehyung says. “It’s uhm–a good replica, I think.”

“Taehyung?”

“Y-yeah?” He asks nervously as he tries to figure out how to distract her long enough to get this paint sample.

“If you want, I can walk back to my desk and give you a few minutes alone. The boss doesn’t have any cameras so–whatever you’re plotting, you can do what you need to and I won’t have to know about it.”

Taehyung is taken aback. He hears the agent gasp audibly from his ear-piece.

“Fuck. Have we been found out? Try to play it off,” the agent instructs.

“W-what do you mean?” Taehyung smiles warmly at Eunhae.

“I mean–I kind of had a feeling that something was up. You’ve never really shown any interest in me but you’re clearly very interested in this painting…and my boss. But don’t worry–I won’t tell. I’ve been planning on rage-quitting soon, anyway,” she says. “I’m done working for assholes.”

Suddenly, Taehyung finds her extremely attractive. All of the confidence that he exuded, sucked out of him with her last statement.

“Okay–I uh–just need to take a paint sample from this. I-is that cool?”

“Yeah. I’ll leave you two alone then,” she says before walking towards the door. “You have 15 minutes.”

He didn’t need that long as he didn’t have to frantically scrape at this possibly-valuable painting. He catches the paint shavings into the paper and folds it neatly, in three layers, in an attempt to preserve it. This should be enough of a sample for Namjoon to send out to a lab to confirm.

Once done, he walks back towards Eunhae’s desk out front and stops once he reaches it.

“Got everything you needed?” She asked.

“I did–I just need to do one last thing,” he says.

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Give you my real phone number…so I can take you out on that dinner that I promised.”

After Taehyung coordinates his upcoming dinner date, he proceeds to take the elevators down and exits the building. He rounds the street corner from the Gravenstein Capital building and walks towards the utility van. As soon as the agent opens the doors, the agent welcomes him with a chuckle.

“That was smooth, man–”

But Taehyung cuts him off to make a bold declaration. “I think there’s something between the canvas and the frame that’s holding it.”

******

Elsewhere, a black Jaguar coupe pulls up to The Fairmont Hotel’s entrance at 1:30. Zedd was staking it out along with another federal agent. They theorized that Hwang may have taken another meeting there–hence the extra long lunch.

“Here she is, sir,” the valet attendant greets the driver as he makes his way down the steps towards his car.

“Thanks, kid,” Hwang says as he palms a $100 bill to Jimin before getting into his car to drive back to his office.

Jimin was briefed by another federal agent at Namjoon’s office after Taehyung.

After digging further, the feds investigating Hwang’s tax paperwork noticed that apart from his signature, this executive’s assistant signature was all over the documents as well.

She has also been the main point of contact at Jung and Associates–turning over documents, which she signed off, for auditing.

She also supposedly prepared and certified the last quarter’s paperwork. The ones that looked highly questionable, triggering this whole investigation.

Jimin tells the agent through his headset that the woman hadn’t left the premises yet. The agent then takes the opportunity to go up to the hotel to intercept her–and possibly make her an offer if she cooperates.

Sora steps out, asking Jimin to retrieve her car, handing him her valet ticket. As he walks away, a federal agent approaches her, identifies himself then asks her to retreat back into the hotel’s lobby to have a conversation with her about her boss and his dealings.

******

You were back to working at the diner. Since the Gravenstein case was now taken over by federal agents, the workload at your day job started to slow down. You were working your normal schedule again.

“YN, there’s somebody who’s asking for you,” Jimin informs you.

“Huh?” You looked up from the service tickets that you organized.

“Yeah, she’s over there by the corner.”

When glanced over to see who it was, your expression darkened.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you muttered under your breath.

“What?”

“It’s her!”

Jimin glances over to take a look. “Oh shit. Millionaire Matchmaker barbie?”

You nodded curtly.

“Shit, sorry, YN. I should have known.”

“No, Jiminie...if anything, some people should know when to stop,” you said before walking over to Miya.

“What do you want?”

She laughs mockingly. “Is that how you usually talk to customers?”

“No but we reserve the right to refuse service to anybody,” you snarked pointing at the sign out front.

“So you admit that all you’re here to do is serve?”

You gave her a tight smile.

“Please leave.” You say as calmly as humanly possible.

“You know, YN—you should take the money. Buy yourself something nice for a change.” She stares you up and down condescendingly and snickers.

“It’s too bad that with all that money you’re waving in front of my face, you couldn’t buy yourself some manners.”

That knocked the stupid grin off her face.

“By the end of the month, he’s all mine,” she says through gritted teeth.

At that point, you wanted to throw a bucket of ice water over her head.

You clicked your teeth. “That’s just on paper though. Beyond that?” You shook your head, folded your arms across your chest and smiled cockily at her.

“Now get out before I drag you out into the street by your lips,” you said firmly.

She flared her nostrils at you then took her things and left.

******

The following week…

Jin would never willingly go into this office but it was all part of the plan. Hwang had no inkling whatsoever that Jin already knew about the changes that were made to the contract–or that the feds had managed to convince his executive assistant/mistress to cooperate with them.

It wasn’t hard to turn her against Hwang. Even after she lawyered up, they managed to convince her with a deal–immunity in exchange for cooperation.

She opened up like a present on Christmas morning. Investigators found out he hadn’t been showering her with as many presents as he did before. The truth was, Hwang had been strapped for cash. He had been paying off his wife’s gambling debts and sending Miya off on trips to try and fence off the remaining artwork from his inheritance.

He had also made a series of bad investments recently–which was all part of his new venture–insider trading. He had to find the right tipsters. Unfortunately, tipsters cost money–and lots of it. Once he found a reliable source, he had to sustain it to keep a steady cash flow. One of his first victims? Kim Daesung.

When Jin arrived in the building, in his three-piece suit, he had to put on his best poker face to play up to this man’s vanity. He had also brought a bottle of single-malt Scotch whisky.

He knew how much Hwang loved his expensive, rare alcohol. This particular bottle was procured from Islay off the coast of Scotland. The distillery malts its own barley with hand-cut peat from the area, giving it that unique, smokey finish.

Jin called in a favor from a business partner who sent him the 27-year old vintage overnight. He wanted to make a good impression after the Miya debacle at the Country Club.

“Good morning, Mr. Hwang,” Jin greets him with a deep bow.

“Well, this is certainly a surprise. When my assistant told me that Kim Seokjin wanted to meet with me, I was floored! Please, sit.” Hwang says as he offers one of his plush office seats.

“Thank you, Mr. Hwang. By the way, this is for you.” He presents the bottle to him.

“Please! Call me Dickie–everybody calls me that…including your father,” he says with a grin as he accepts the gift.

“Is this—is this actually from Scotland?” Hwang asks as he reads the origin from the bottle's label.

“Yes, it is. From Islay, specifically.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “The small island that has nine distilleries?”

“The one and only.”

“How did you manage to get a 27-year old vintage? I’ve been trying to get my hands on one but I keep getting blocked at every turn,” Hwang says as he holds the bottle up to the light, turning it to inspect it.

“Ah, it helps to befriend a Scottish exchange student from your college days–and it’s great to find out that their family happens to own a distillery in Scotland,” Jin says smugly.

He was flexing. It usually made him uncomfortable to name-drop or talk about experiences that were exclusive to his social class. But Hwang relished in such topics. He loved money and talking about how much he had and what he could do with it.

He cackles. “That is amazing. Now what can I do for you, Seokjin? What brings you here?”

“I just felt that I needed to come here and clear the air–about Miya.”

“Oh–you mean that whole Country Club chatter,” he chuckles. “Well–” he raises his eyebrows and hisses through his teeth. “You know, Miya has a mind of her own…and when she sets it to something, it’s hard to pry her away from it.”

“Your daughter is very strong-willed. But I was hoping you would hear my side of things–as your future son-in-law.”

A smile creeps up Hwang’s lips. “Of course…would you uh–like to discuss it over a dram?”

“By all means,” Jin answers as Hwang pulls out some specialty glasses from the cupboard that he had behind his desk.

Of course this man would be drinking at work. He did not have any work ethic at all.

They toasted to each other’s health as Jin drones on about how Miya had misconstrued your relationship.

“I must say–sometimes my Miya has a bit of a flair for dramatics. She gets that from her mother, if you know what I mean,” he chortles.

Jin chuckles. “Exactly. But, that’s just it. There’s no need for dramatics. The woman that she confronted–she’s a girlfriend, yes. But she means nothing to me.”

He felt his skin crawl as he said it out loud but he had to sell it.

“I was–trying to recover from my former fiancée’s recent wedding–she was the first thing that I spotted. Easy target, so to speak.”

“I see,” Hwang says.

“You of all people should understand. Us guys? We just need that last bit of fun before we completely settle down.”

The words felt like acid coming out of his mouth but he managed to power through it.

“She’s a good piece of ass but–not wife material, you know? Especially for somebody like me,” he says. “But your daughter? She’s been acclimating well to society. She’d make a great Kim.”

He all but vomited bile upon uttering those words.

Hwang laughs…a little too loudly. The scotch was getting to him quick after a few shots. “So why do you have to hide it?”

“Oh you know how it is…people in our social circle? Lots of bored housewives who like to gossip. I didn’t need that around me, especially when my company stock is doing very well.”

“That’s right–you’re very profitable, Seokjin.”

“Exactly. And…it’s why I gave this woman a car and paid for some of her expenses.” He shrugs. “Sometimes you just need to give them a little bit–just so they have something to go on even though they’ll never be able to have it.”

Hwang was silent for a beat, studying Jin’s facial expression. Suddenly, he smacks the armrest of his chair. “I couldn’t agree more, Kim Seokjin. I like your style, boy,” he says with a cackle raising another glass to him.

*******

“You said what?” Namjoon yells into the phone.

“Please…don’t make me say it again. I feel fucking awful about it,” Jin says regretfully as he clutches the back of his neck.

“Eh, I get why you did it and I know that you didn’t mean any of it.”

“I just don’t want him trying anything on YN. If anybody can get to Miya, it would be him.”

Namjoon hums then switches topics. “I got a call from my federal asset. They told me that they also found out that Hwang hasn’t been paying his taxes in over ten years!”

Jin is in shock. “Holy shit…he’s such a dirtbag. But that’s good, right? It means they’re pursuing the tax evasion case?”

“Yes. They’ve served Hwang with case files recently, letting him know about the investigation—this is just from the documents that came from YN’s company…”

“Well—great!” Jin says excitedly. “This means this process is going to go much faster than we hoped, right? They could arrest him?”

Namjoon hesitated. “There’s a bit of a thing…”

“What 'thing'?”

“The process.”

“What do you mean? You said the feds were about to serve him papers, right? Government is investigating him—that fulfills the contract stipulation! He’s done for!” Jin exclaims.

“It’s not that simple. My asset also told me that…since they have bigger fish to fry at the bureau, Hwang’s case is practically at the bottom of the pile. Meaning, it could take years to look into,” Namjoon grimaces.

“Fuck…no,” Jin says gravely as he squeezes his eyes shut upon hearing of this setback.

“Listen, Jin—don’t lose hope just yet. They did say that if they’re able to find his real records—then it could blow this case wide open.”

“Wh…how would that happen?”

“I don’t know yet. Let me talk to Zedd to find out what he thinks. I’m meeting with him this afternoon because I just got a tip from one of my old buddies in Paris. There’s chatter about an Amorsolo painting that hasn’t been seen in years and I need to get a jump on it before it switches hands again.”

Jin doesn’t catch that last bit of information as his mind is already racing.

“Anyway, hang in there, man. We’ll figure this out.”

“Thanks, Joon.”

“Of course, bro.”

******

After another productive Pilates workout, Haejin was feeling energized and clear-headed. She had been quietly worrying about her dad and brother so much that enough tension had given her recurring migraines.

Jin couldn’t hold back this information from her. Of course, he had also tried to be as vague as possible on the facts so as not to make matters worse for their dad. And he was only forced to talk about the Miya-issue because she managed to get it out of Jungkook.

She starts to gather her things from the locker room to drive back home for a quick shower before proceeding to the office with renewed purpose.

“Oh, hi, Haejin!”

Well, that feeling didn’t last long.

She turns around and tries her best to act surprised. “Oh my gosh, Miya? Hi. I didn’t know that you went to this gym, too?”

“No, I don’t. I typically don’t work out at public gyms but since my personal trainer is on vacation, I thought I’d–try to get in a couple of classes–you know…we have to take care of ourselves.”

“Hmm…well, good for you!” She says with a sarcastic but wide smile. She also said it with a bit of finality to her tone and had hoped that that would be the end of the conversation.

“I didn’t know that you took classes here.”

Haejin inwardly groans. “Uhm, yeah. I’m friends with a couple of the instructors here so I come say ‘hi’ and try to take a class if I’m not chained to my desk.”

“Well, maybe next time, we should coordinate days!”

“Oh, I don’t come as often anymore because since I moved up to the director position, I don’t have much free time so I stick to my stationary bike at home.”

“Or–we can hang out on any other random day–you know, whenever you’re not busy since…we’ll be family soon and all.”

Haejin cringes. There was no way in hell this woman was going to worm her way into this family.

“That’s–a bit of a premature assumption even for you, Miya.”

“Why would it be premature? Once this contract grace period is done at the end of the month, your brother and I will be announcing our engagement–”

“If it gets to that point,” she interrupts.

Miya chuckles. “When it gets to that point, we’re going to have to get used to spending more time together.”

“I don’t have to get used to anything, Miya. And–if this wedding happens, I don’t have to change my life around. I can keep doing what I’m doing because unlike some people,” she eyed her, “I have an actual job.”

“Is that what you like about YN? That she has an actual job? That she tries so hard,” she said with a mocking expression.

Haejin’s expression remained unchanged.

“I mean…fraternizing with the help–I thought that was beneath you, Haejin” she laughed.

At this point, she wanted to scratch Miya’s eyes out. Instead, she tilted her chin up and calmly addressed her. “YN is a much more decent person than you will ever be. So you better watch what you say about the people whom I love and care about…before I pop your lips like a balloon,” she says before she finishes with a big smile.

Miya instinctively curls her lips inward as she is rendered speechless.

“Have a great day, Miya. Oh and–take it easy on the botox, huh? You looked really…perplexed,” she finishes with a cocked eyebrow, knowing full well that Miya currently lacked the facial muscle mobility to do the same.

Haejin walks out of the building and into her car, immediately dialing her brother’s phone.

“Jin–I have an idea on how to push this investigation to the top of the fed’s pile.”

“How are you going to do that?”

Haejin was feeling vindictive. It wasn’t an every day feeling but after working as a news segment producer for a few years, she wanted to cash in on those connections.

“I’m calling the TV network. I’m telling you–once they get wind of this, it will spread like wildfire. The FBI will have no choice but to take a closer look at it.”

“Hae–I don’t want everything to get out. You know dad–”

“I know, Jin!” She didn’t mean to snap at her older brother. “Sorry…I mean–I will obviously leave out that other stuff that dad told you until he talks to his lawyers. I’m just going to leak the story about the tax evasion. Maybe it will smoke out those second set of books.”

He put his full trust on his dongsaeng. They knew that what their dad had done was also against the law and they never wanted to be above it. They just wanted to push Hwang over the cliff first before they took that next step.

******

The next day…

“Can you believe this? Such bullshit. Now they’re trying to dig up old crap.”

Hwang and Miya were watching breaking news at his office. She rushed over when she saw the alert on her phone.

Hwang had been hiding out in his office since the early morning once his phones started blowing up with texts and calls from news outlets trying to confirm whether he was under federal investigation.

He managed to slip out of his home quietly before the reporters started to camp outside, waiting to catch a glimpse of this crook.

Haejin fed a tip to her former producer at the TV network that she used to work at before transferring to KimCorp. Once the fact-checkers confirmed that a case file was indeed opened for Hwang and his company, they ran the story as an exclusive, breaking news story.

Once the rest of the wires got wind of it, the FBI’s media office was inundated with calls from the press. It was all anybody could talk about.

Hwang didn’t want to admit it but all those demons that he tried to bury years ago were now catching up to him.

“Who is this insider that they’re talking about? Do you have a rat in your office, daddy?”

He seethed. “I better not.”

It seems that he and Sora had made a critical mistake on his latest tax filing. He received the subpoena from the Internal Revenue Services regarding a tax fraud investigation and a separate summons from the FBI earlier this week, which immediately forwarded them to his lawyers.

Back then, he had full confidence that this investigation would drag out since the government had other more prominent tax evaders under their crosshairs. He knows how bureaucracy works–it was synonymous with how a snail moved.

However, he did not factor in media attention. He did not prepare for this ambush.

“I told you that this little accounting firm would kick up some dust. I looked into their staff. The director boasts of 100% conviction on tax fraud cases,” Miya mutters under her breath.

“Don’t worry. They won’t find anything. All of the money is tucked into our offshore accounts. Nobody will be able to get to it until they find the actual records.” He still tried to appear calm and collected in front of her even though he was anything but.

“Speaking of those–you probably should move them somewhere safe, as soon as possible.”

“I know, Miya. The lawyers are handling it right now. I’ll move them in the morning.” He would do it tonight but not with the media buzzing about.

“It won’t be long until some investigators come up poking around this office,” Miya says worriedly.

“Relax, Miya. There’s no probable cause–meaning, they’ll keep looking at whatever I’ve given them and it will go away just like it did before.”

“Right, but this has never been televised before, daddy. This does not bode well for us.” She was a little panicked but her father tried his best to calm her down.

“Let the lawyers handle it. If they think that the feds are moving towards a search, then I’ll move things around.”

“But daddy–what about all of my travel? Wouldn’t that raise any suspicions?”

“Sweetheart, you’ve been very discreet, haven’t you?”

“Yes–”

“Then there’s no need to worry,” he shrugs. “If we show these people that we’re making sudden movements–acting out of the ordinary–then yes, it definitely raises suspicions. But if we act normally, then it gives them a sense that things are fine.”

“Have you heard from mom?” she asks.

“Not really. She’s up at the casino again,” Hwang says dismissively. “Might be a blessing that she’s not here. Otherwise, she’d probably give me a heart attack if she saw all this.”

Elsewhere, Viola Hwang walks out the doors of the Tangiers Casino and waits for her chauffeur to pull up. Another $200-grand down the drain–Dickie would have kittens trying to pay that off.

A few minutes later, she hadn't heard anything from her driver. Right when she pulls her phone out of her purse, two strangers in suits walk up to her and identify themselves as FBI agents.

“Viola Hwang? We’d like to ask you a few questions. Will you please come with us?”

******

Hours later, Hwang’s executive assistant runs into his office. “Uhm—Mr. Hwang, there are federal agents here—“

“Tell them to fuck off,” he says nonchalantly as he sips on his scotch that Jin had brought in the other day.

“There’s a lot of them downstairs, apparently. They have the blue windbreakers with the big yellow letters in the back,” Sora says.

“I heard you! Now tell them to fuck off!”

Eunhae appeals to him. “Sir…I don’t think these are the ones who can just fuck off. They said that they have a search warrant.”

“Daddy…” Miya says worriedly.

Hwang felt trapped. Recently, two agents who served him investigative paperwork stopped by then left shortly after Sora turned them away.

But not this time–because they brought many more of their friends with them. Those blue windbreakers mean business—it equates to a raid.

“Can’t you tell them to come back?” Hwang says stupidly.

“I don’t know if I can, sir–” Sora says.

Eunhae has never seen her supervisor this frantic. She always seemed to roar at her on a regular basis. And now, just a few men and women dressed in blue windbreakers were scaring the shit out of her.

“Sir, if we don’t let them in, they will kick our doors open,” Eunhae reasons.

Hwang leaned onto his desk for support. He thought he had more time–more time to move whatever assets he could. He quickly does a mental rundown of all of his accounts. If he needed to make a quick getaway tonight after his lawyer bails him out, it would have to be enough for his family for now...at least until things cooled off.

Miya looks through the window at the scene downstairs. There were several government vehicles downstairs that had set up a perimeter around the building. There were a couple of news vans there as well covering everything that was unfolding on camera.

“Dad, they’re coming up,” Miya says.

“There’s media downstairs, sir. They can’t have clips of us impeding a legal investigation. It’s not a good look,” Eunhae deadpans as she glances sideways at an absolutely shell-shocked Sora. She didn't realize that agents would descend on them this soon.

Although Eunhae was pretty much the bottom of the food chain in the assistant’s pool, she wasn’t stupid. She knew that her boss was fucking Hwang. Sora was getting paid off in exchange for her signing doctored financial documents.

“Fine, fine. We’ll cooperate. Let them in then,” Hwang says with a resigned tone.

“Dad–what about me,” she whispers.

“Princess, it’s alright,” he winks at her. It was an odd gesture given the current situation.

Even though Miya was effectively involved, he had kept her name out of every document. He always instructed her to pad her travel with vacations and shopping sprees to cover up their tracks. If this day ever came, she would never see the inside of a jail cell. He made sure of that.

“What do I do, dad,” she whimpered.

“Calm down, honey,” he rests his hands on her shoulders as she starts to quiver in fear. “I need you to listen to me, alright? Are you listening, Miya? Miya!”

She snaps out of her haze and nods.

“I need you to call my lawyers, alright?”

She nods again.

Just then, the lead agent walks into the office. “Richard Hwang?” He asks him pointedly.

“Yes,” he responds as Miya tries to hold back her tears.

“Please put your hands behind your back.” The lead agent closes in with handcuffs to collar him.

“Richard Hwang, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney…”

As the agent Mirandizes Hwang, Miya is rooted to her position while she watches her father get escorted out of his own building for the telltale perp walk.

At the end of the hallway, she sees her mother standing next to another federal agent, wearing the look of betrayal on her face.

Tears begin to stream down Miya’s cheeks as she clenches her jaw. Her mother attempts to approach her but she holds her hand up to stop her. Instead, she turns back into her father’s office, which was now turned upside down by at least five more agents combing through everything.

“The wife said it was right behind the painting, right?” An agent asks his colleague.

“Correct. The boss says to be very careful taking this apart because it’s from 1912,” his colleague says.

“Got it. Hey, can you guys help me get it off the wall,” he addresses two of his other colleagues.

As they pull the painting off its hinges, they feel some weights shifting from the inside of the frame, confirming their suspicions and Hwang’s wife’s tip that there were items hidden between it.

Miya couldn’t believe her eyes. She felt absolutely helpless as she watched her father’s empire crashing down around her.

There was nothing else left for her here. She swipes the salty discharge from her eyes, squares her shoulders and picks up her Birkin. She starts towards the elevators to exit the building.

“Miya…please…” Her mother begs as she watches her daughter step through the doors.

“Don’t!” She mutters tersely as they shut in front of her face.

Once she was alone, she pressed a palm against the cold metal, which she slowly curled into a fist. She punches at the solid metal with all her might. She was enraged–and she knew exactly who to direct that anger to.

******

Jin was sitting in his apartment alone, deciding whether to go to sleep or eat. He’d just been going through the motions recently. Work, eat, sleep.

Around this time, he would text or call you to check in but you’d been back working late nights at the diner.

He waited for midnight since that was about the halfway mark through your late-night shift.

His phone pings with text alerts from Namjoon.

[Namjoon] 11:35PM: Turn on the news.

[Jin] 11:36PM: Which one?

[Namjoon] 11:39PM: Any of them!

He turns his TV on and switches it to the first network whose channel he remembers off the top of his head and sees the bold headline at the bottom of the screen.

*Armed FBI agents descend on Gravenstein Capital HQ; Execute search warrants*

Just then, Jin’s phone starts to ring.

“Dad?”

“Are you seeing this? It’s all over the networks,” his father gasps on the other line.

“This is crazy. Absolutely crazy,” he says as he watches the news report.

“It’s all over, son. He’s done–the contract is done. I’ll call my lawyers in the morning so they can move to get it voided immediately.”

Jin breathes a deep sigh of relief.

“W-what about you,” he asks. There was still the matter of the insider trading case that his father was involved in.

His father sighs. “I’m meeting with the Securities and Exchange Commission tomorrow to report it. I would probably have to pay a hefty fine but at least it would be another nail in his coffin.”

“I’m so sorry, dad.”

“That’s alright, son. We all have to own up to our mistakes–whether they were intentional or not.”

“I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow then?”

“Yes. I’ll let you know if you need to come in to sign anything.”

As soon as he hangs up, his phone rings again—the caller takes him by surprise given the circumstances but he picks up.

“Seokjin?” She sounds panicked and desperate–but mainly relieved when he answers.

“Miya–I don’t think we should talk–”

“No, no please–please don’t hang up–I…I’m scared. They just took my dad away. I don’t know what the fuck’s happening. I don’t know who else to turn to–”

“By tomorrow morning, the pre-nup contract will be void–and there won’t be anything connecting you to me.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the contract! I need your help, please,” she pleads.

“Miya, I’m sorry this is happening to your family but…what your dad did? You can’t possibly think that he can get away with it forever.”

She’s dumbfounded by his languid demeanor. “D-did…did you know? Did you–did you do this,” she stammers.

“He was going to get caught one way or another.” Jin says matter-of-factly.

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Now she felt absolutely trapped–and without her father’s safety net, she was rapidly freefalling to the ground.

He sighs audibly, feeling an ounce of pity for her. “We shouldn’t be in contact anymore, Miya. Goodbye.”

The line goes dead. She seethes then hurls her phone against the wall, shattering it into a thousand pieces then lets out a primal scream.

*******

He proceeds to turn off his living room lights to get ready for bed, knowing that he could rest easier–it was a much better feeling than he had weeks ago.

Suddenly, he hears his front door beep–somebody had entered their keyless entry code and was now entering his apartment.

He walks over to see who it is and is shocked to find you standing in the hallway after shutting the door. You were still wearing your uniform as you rushed over from the diner as soon as you found out.

“I…I saw the news. Or–Jimin got the alert on his phone, rather–and told me about it,” you rambled.

He nodded.

“So…it’s true? He’s going to prison?”

“Namjoon’s guy from the bureau said that they had a solid case to get him convicted. And there could be more since his wife seems to have turned against him. And she’s talking…a lot.”

It’s been a tense few days. Since plotting the stakeouts, you wanted to distract yourself so you wouldn’t have to get your hopes up in case things fell through.

You weren’t a gambling woman but it sure felt like you had put in all of your chips into this plan–to get Hwang put away to invalidate Jin’s arranged marriage.

“My dad is going to petition for his contract with Hwang to be declared null and void first thing tomorrow,” he says.

It was your turn to release a deep breath. “What does this mean for us?”

“It means–we’re done fighting the world for now. I’m free to do what we want..we are free to do what we want.” He takes a few steps, stopping short of a foot away from you.

You closed the gap between the both of you. “Right now, I just want you to love me.”

“Whatever you want,” he says before he crashes his lips into yours.

You pulled his shirt over his head. Seeing him bare-chested, you couldn’t contain your emotions further. Fear, anger, want, and love—all that built up in the last few weeks…and you needed a desperate release.

Fueled by pain, you pulled away from him briefly to slap him hard across his cheek. It took him by surprise but he knew he deserved it.

You stood there, face to face, breaths ragged from emotions running high.

You felt bad hurting him like that but his crimson skin was only a fraction of the pain of what you had been put through and you wanted him to feel some of it.

But your desire for him was stronger–you immediately grabbed his neck to kiss him again.

Your tongue stroked the inside of his mouth as an apology to your sudden burst of fury.

Your tongues, fighting for control. You felt him reach under your uniform, deftly pulling your panties down.

He broke your kiss and backed you against the wall. He slowly lowered himself until he was on his knees, lifting your skirt up and gently hooked your right leg onto his shoulder.

Here you stood, bare and open for him. Yet with all the power that he wielded in the daylight, you brought him to his knees by nightfall.

You stifled a moan while he groaned into your core. His tongue relentlessly licked every fold, every crevice. He sucked and teased your clit, making you tug at his hair.

You felt your left leg start to buckle with your impending orgasm. Just then he replaces his tongue with his thumb and rubs your aching bud. The friction inching you closer and closer as your walls clench at nothing. You sank your teeth deeper into your lower lip.

He slid his ring and middle fingers into you while his thumb continued to work your clit, alternating it with his mouth. Your head lolled to the side in pleasure while hips undulated into his mouth and fingers instinctively.

“You don’t have to hold back. It’s just you and me now…” he says before wrapping his lips around your heat once more.

And just like that, you fell apart with a drawn out, high-pitched moan–desperately trying to catch your breath.

But he didn’t let you. Next thing you knew, he was upright, lifting you off your feet, bringing you both into the bedroom. After he sets you on the mattress, you shed the rest of your clothing.

You made quick work of undoing his jeans, his cock already visibly straining against his boxers.

The moment he pulls them down, your mouth starts to water.

As if reading your mind, he shakes his head.

“No. I want to make tonight all about your pleasure.” He brushes his fingers to your cheek and seals his mouth over yours once more.

He moves lower, placing wet kisses down your neck and onto your collarbone, stopping to suck on each perked nipple.

Before you knew it, he was back down between your legs, sinking his mouth on your cleft–as if he just hadn’t had his fill of you down the hallway.

“Fuck,” you breathed out as you felt the suction from his mouth. Your hands fisted the sheets beneath you, back arching as Jin pinned your hips to the bed and fluttered his tongue across your clit.

Your vision started to blur as your core tightened with another threat of an orgasm. Your pulse quickened with the steady feel of him humming into your center.

You pushed your fingers into his hair, already damp from sweat.

“Jin, I’m ready,” you begged.

He ignored your pleas and continued his oral assault.

“I want you, now…please…” It was then he rubbed the tip of his tongue against your aching bud, which pushed you over the edge once more.

“Fuck! Jiinn…fuck,” you uttered incoherently while your second orgasm rips through you.

After your postorgasmic haze clears, you sat up slightly,

leaning onto your elbows.

“I still want you,” you breathed.

“Do you?”

“Yes. I always have. I never stopped.”

He crawled up to you, his face hovering over yours. He tilts his head to lower his mouth to yours, lightly tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

“I love you. I don’t want anybody else but you.”

“I love you so—“ He didn’t let you finish and kissed you deeply instead.

Earlier, when he told you that you didn’t need to hold back, he was telling himself the same thing.

You slipped a free hand down his pants to stroke him. He groaned into your mouth.

As he settled between you, spread your legs further to accommodate him.

He paused and pushed his waistband lower to line himself between your entrance.

He pushed gently against you, parting you as he slipped the tip inside. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he fills you to the brim.

For the rest of the night, you spent it with your bodies pressed against one another. Sometimes he was in you, other times you just kissed. Either way, you savored each other, trying to make up for lost time.

There was nothing else standing between both of you. You were free to claim him for yourself…and he let you.

Part 9◥

Taglist: @deepseavibez @shameless-army @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @twogyuu @jakepralta @arisud @justmewondering-recs @taleasnewastime @se0kedinluv @bangtannoonalvg [open]

[muimui-enie]

Not me wanting to make an Enstars OC and unit.

Yeah, I totally want to make one sksks but all I have is a concept for OC. (Warning: Cringe and death)

The OC is part of the producer course and she looks up and worries about Anzu a lot but imma push that aside for a sec to talk about OC herself.

She’s like your average everyday person so she’s plain and ordinary(in her opinion). I mean like she doesn’t have things she excels at and she’s as nice as any person is expected to be; along with a normal motivation for producing(make money to live). Her likes and dislikes aren’t strange even if she is more into horror related things and her standards for “cute” may be a bit... odd...

Moving from that on to something different, she doesn’t have any family nor relatives. Her mother died when OC was birthed and her father died from overwork. She doesn’t have any particular feelings for her mom but does think she was a nice person from how OC’s father described her. Her father was awkward with his signs of affection towards OC but she was fine with it since she knew he loved her anyways. She was fine with him working often as well but would tell him to rest whenever he could; she expected him to manage just fine with his workload. But a month before her first day in Yumenosaki Academy... He died, he was found dead in his office from overwork. OC was devastated from the news but still tried her best to keep it together since she would be enrolling into the academy soon and she now had to figure out how to live by herself if she could.

Her friend (who I will totally make into an idol for the unit she produces) offers to let stay her at their house with his parents. She agrees since it’d be easier on her than living on her own though she does feel a bit bad about it since it makes her feel like she’s freeloading. (Gonna skip forward to yumenosaki now, this is also where everyone is in !! time btw)

She’s in Yumenosaki with her friend and is producing for their unit as well. (Now I get to write how she meets with Anzu :D) She didn’t really engage much with Anzu at first, OC only interacted with her whenever Anzu was around other producers or just by chance. She thought Anzu was pretty ordinary(not a bad thing) and rather quiet since she didn’t spoke often during their encounters. Overall her impression of her was OK. She often hears about how other students talk about her and it makes OC respect her the same as them. After awhile OC may start looking for Anzu on advice for her unit(Anzu is very experience after all) and whenever she does find Anzu; Anzu is always working but still gives advice to help her and her unit. From seeing how often she working and how much effort she puts into it causes OC to worry about her whilst looking up to her.

Looking up her to for the fact that she is capable of sewing outfits, make songs, manage events, etc etc(OC can’t sew to save her life). But worrying due to how much she is overworking herself like her father did not long ago so OC tries to tell Anzu to rest and all that(but she already had this spiel from her idols so yeahhh). When OC realizes Anzu hasn’t changed her work pace she decides to intervene under the pretense that she is just trying to gain experience of being a producer and that Anzu can just help her guide with while she does the work for her. It doesn’t work all the time but Anzu does relent sometimes and lets her “gain experience” working as a producer. Basically a Senpai Kouhai kinda thing. Also from this work she starts seeing more of Anzu thereby seeing more of her personality than just beyond what she had before.

To be honest, I don’t think OC would interact with other ES idols from !! unless Anzu is around lol. OC would most likely just be around her unit and Anzu cause of obvious reasons, Also OC may be a bit mean to the ES idols cause a part of her feels like they are underappreciating Anzu but she does try her best not to judge their relationships from the surface(especially since she hasn’t had many interactions with them). She just hopes that her friends won’t let her fall the same way her father did if she her help wasn’t enough.