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binniesthighs · 4 years

Text

call me babydoll | reader x chan

soooo shhhh this actually a part one shhhh but i’m just trying out writing out different things and getting out some of my ideas outta my head that i’m really excited about, this one being one of them!! for now...just pretend that this is just a regular ol’ drabble hehehehe. this part is the set-up chapter (shhh i mean drabble)

One

Pairing: self insert, female reader x bang chan

Genre: fluff, smut, and angst

Tags: (overall) bodyguard au, moderndayprince!chan, bodyguard!reader, secret agent au, royal au, action and peril, plot driven, running out of time, slow-ish burn, growing feelings, softswitch!chan, hardswitch!reader, some skz side characters, jeongin third wheel and comedic relief LOL, travelling, chan being expensive and having a lil bit of a superiority complex, flirtyyyy chan, bits of mystery, explicit language, mentions of food and alcohol, idk think like 007 vibes hehe

CWs: guns and gun violence, a shooting in a ballroom, mentions of blood

Word count: 4.6k

Parts

ONE | TWO

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here early.”

“Well, expect the unexpected.”

“Don’t turn the motto back at me. I’m sick of hearing it so many damn times.”

“What? You and I both know that it’s true. You’re here early too, so, technically you don’t get to say anything.”

Jeongin straightened his bow tie, then patted down the sides of his perfectly ironed tux with not a crinkle to be found. Knowing him, it was a miracle that he hadn’t messed it up in some form yet. He promptly took out his pocket square to clean off his glasses.

“You’re looking nice. Seems like they don’t mind spending money now on you these days.” He blew off the flecks of dust on his lenses.

“They know that they get their return on their investment. And thank you.”

You smoothed down the sides of your dusty pink dress that nearly went all the way down to your ankles. Had you any other choice, it would’ve been something different, but, dresses were really good at hiding your thigh holster compared to the slacks you usually favored. You didn’t mind the times that you would have to put on a pretty dress, it somewhat reminded you that there was normal life outside of your job. Not to mention, they had started sending you jewelry as well. You always had liked the look of a diamond necklace.

“You do your research for tonight?”

Jeongin nodded, then took from his pocket his phone to read over the details.

“I’ve done a background check on everyone attending, we shouldn’t have any issues. It’s already a low risk event anyway. Charity is never something to get too worked up over, but, you never know with the detail that some of these people come with...who they might be tied to...”

“--The only people we can trust is ourselves.” You nodded with arms crossed.

“Expect the unexpected, I know.” He slid his phone back into his inside suit pocket to adjust his cufflinks.

“--Nervous?” You took note of his fidgeting actions.

“Nervous? No. I’ve been through this before. You know that.”

You flicked your partner right on his forehead strung with his white hair. You had really wished that he had picked a less conspicuous color, but he had strings to pull that you didn’t.

Jeongin cleared his throat, “You do your once over?”

“Do you even need to ask? I did it hours ago and when we arrived. You know that I’ve done this before too.”

“I know. I know.”

Jeongin looked out at the vast circular atrium that made up the center of the hotel. Several stories down under the glass rooftop, you could hear the faint sprinkling of the intricate fountain which smelled of copper. A bit further down, you could see the tips of the tree branches from the indoor landscaping. Across the way, a door slammed with residents tucking in their ties. The two men you had recognized from the roster: a simple thing which made you feel at ease. Your young partner must’ve started to have an effect on you. A sense of unease seemed to quell in your neck. You always listened to your hunches.

“W-what do you think he thinks of us?” Jeongin broke the silence.

“Well,” From inside the room you had waited outside, you could hear his distant murmuring, so you lowered your tone. “I think that he has yet to trust us. It’s only been a few weeks. He doesn’t seem like the kind to give himself up easy. That, and I’m sure his resentment of his father must have some influence.”

“You think he hates us?”

“I think he hates his father for hiring us. I mean, wouldn’t you? His old security detail, he had them for years.”

“I guess so. But, we’re not like his old detail.”

“No. We’re not. I don’t think he gets that yet. I think he sees us as one more way his father has a hold on him.”

“It’s not like he can do much else about it when his dad’s a kin--”

“--No, no, thank you, really, it’s lovely. Some of your best work. Thank you.”

Chan swung open the door to his room, stopping Jeongin right in his sentence.

“Ah. You’re here already. That’s...punctual.”

As dazzling and showy as ever, Chan looking nothing short of a magazine model. For a prince, he had certain...appearances that he had to maintain. Today, it was a velvety and maroon suit jacket with a white button up. On the collar, two matching brooches had been perfectly placed, and they were silver like moonlight in the shape of English ivy and adorned with diamonds. On his lapel, he wore the royal insignia of the lion and the wolf. Behind him, you could see his slew of stylists cleaning up their makeup kits and obscene assortment of designer dress shoes for him to pick from. You had thought before that he even smelled like royalty: stuffy white roses with a hint of priceless cognac.

Jeongin bowed his head respectfully. “Everything has been prepared for tonight. The rest of your guards are surrounding the building, and I’ll be corresponding with them as needed, your Highness.” He tapped at his earpiece.

Chan drew his attention over to you, giving you a rather lusty glare. Over the past couple weeks, you had gotten used to it. He was a prince to every extent of the word. If there was anything that he had wanted, he simply had to ask. It drove him insane that all he could do was merely look at you. You had wondered if he harbored anything else for you besides the way that he would devour the curves of your shoulders and hips.

“Fox. Bee. You look nice tonight. I like seeing you dressed up. Makes me feel less out of place.”

You couldn’t help but let out a little sound of discontentment over his rather affectionate nickname for you. You and your partner had been introduced to him as F and B. Quickly he had figured out Jeongin’s codename as Fox, considering that he had done a poor job picking out one that wasn’t related to him at all. Anyone could tell that boy was fox-like, and he also just wasn’t that creative when it came to picking out a name for himself. B, or Bee as he had decided, was your name; as in bumblebee. After learning about Fox, he figured that there was an animal theme going, so Bee seemed to fit best in his oponion.

You tested his glare with your best, “Thank you, your Highness.”

Jeongin gulped. “Your assistant should be waiting downstairs with your itinerary. She told me that you should meet her first off.”

“You work too hard F. Have some fun tonight, hm? But don’t...drink too much. You’re responsible for my life remember?” Chan clapped his bodyguard on the back.

Your partner nervously laughed and adjusted his glasses once more: his preferred tic.

“And Bee?” Chan rose a brow to lean into close and whisper. “Stay close, alright?”

“Of course, your Highness.”

Chan let out a little scoff after getting one more proper look at your frame. “Damn. You really are stunning. Just a little too dangerous for me though.”

You rolled your eyes, dishing him outa, “Whatever you say, your Highness.”

Jeongin threw you and annoyed glare before tracing after Chan as he sauntered down the hall to the glass elevator.

“Bee? You coming? Or do you have something better to do?” Chan’s voice called down the hall with an echo and a little teasing gesture of his hand.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

It had been seven years since you had chosen this line of work, and each time that you had to go to one of these things, you hated them more and more. Not because they were hard to control--they were easy--but you just hated how many superficial and self-absorbed people that they could fit into one room.

The air was filled with the scent of champagne bubbles and too much Chanel No. 5. From corner to corner of the room, and even next to the ice sculpture of the lion and the wolf crest, silk, satin; velvet and the best cotton could be found. Long gloves covered the arms of ladies with wrinkling skin, and tweed vests held in the guts of men who indulged in their food just as much as their mistresses. All this effort just to appear as if they had given one care about the philanthropic efforts of the royalty.

Several neatly dressed waiters passed you with golden platters of hors d'oeuvres made of ingredients so expensive, they would’ve cost the same amount as the generous donations made by the attendees. If you could’ve, you would’ve scooped up as many of them as you could, just to eat all of their copious amounts of money yourself, but, there was somewhere a rule that you had to keep your hand to yourself when you were on duty. The best that you had to look forward too was take-out to eat at 3 in the morning with Jeongin later.

Buzzing chatter filled your earpiece while each of the additional guards gave their hourly report.

“Damn. It’s fucking colder out here than I thought. It’s fucking summer.” One of them joked to the tune of the other guards laughter.

“Stay focused.” Jeongin scolded over the line. “Don’t leave your posts until your shifts change.”

While he was a timid man, Jeongin was not one to mess around. Son of the director, he knew that he had big shoes to fill. After pleading for years for her to admit him into the academy, she had agreed. Everyone knew the reason why she didn’t want him in this line of work. Too many dead. Too many missing. In some ways, he was also yours to look after.

You trailed after Chan who was busy talking to his assistant and his publicist. While he nodded at their words, you knew that he must’ve been barely listening. Chan never really was one for formality, but much rather enjoyed simplicity and pleasure. Jeongin and you had somewhat of a bet going: out of all the guests, you had liked to bet which one he would take with him to his bedroom. Since you had all the profiles of the guests, you liked to bet a little money on which one it would be.

Jeongin had guessed it to be the heiress and daughter of a tycoon who had made a multi-million won donation in the name of his company. It was ironic; his very company was a big-scale pollutor who liked to make nice with the crown. She was conventionally very pretty: long legs, a thin frame, she was educated and looked as if she could hold somewhat of a conversation...not like that mattered to him.

You had predicted it to be the foreign CEO who had just started business dealings with the crown. While she might’ve looked a bit stuck-up and prim, she was intimidating, and a challenge. Chan loved challenges. Chan also had a pension for pretty boys with a bit too much money on their hands--usually inherited--and with nothing much else to do other than dote on him. There were plenty of those attending the gala tonight.

Chan snaked through the crowd, bowing his head at all of the Good evening, your Highnesses and the It’s a pleasure to meet you, your Highnesses. Every few moments or so he would take a bite from a golden plate and then pop it into his mouth. The whole night long, he would hold his glass with him and it would get refilled for him without him even needing to ask. You sometimes liked to pretend that in some places, they must’ve assigned someone to watch him from afar to make sure that he would never need anything before it was given to him. It wouldn’t have surprised you.

“Having fun Bee?” Chan languidly rolled his head back, swirling his glass.

“As much fun as you are.” You quipped.

“Anything that I should be concerned about?”

“Nothing of concern.” You stated matter-of-factly. Had you matched his flirting tone, you knew that you wouldn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the night. “Fox. Report?”

“Nothing that I can see. No one has been tagging you.” Jeongin had staked himself up on the upper balcony of the banquet hall room, and had been watching for as long as you had been following after the prince. “You sensing anything strange?” His voice tickled in your in-ear.

“Just a bunch of the normal crowd.” You kept your tone down low. “He’s rubbing noses with the usual. You’ve seen too?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

You followed Chan to his seat nearest the front of the room which had been fashioned into a stage with a clear glass podium in the center. Right in front there was one more crest decorating it. Chan had ensured it to be so: he had wanted everyone to know that this was all for his charity.

“It seems like our bets aren’t working out. He hasn’t talked to either of the...suspects.” Your partner changed his choice of words knowing that the other guards were listening.

From the opposite side of the room both the heiress and the CEO stood with thin glasses of wine in their lithe hands. Chan had in fact walked right past them, and didn’t even notice.

“Tonight is going to be a long night.” Jeongin sighed over the line.

You politely pushed past attendees with a raised hand and a sweet smile. You had found that when you smiled, you had appeared less intimidating.

“Oh wait...what’s this?”

“What?” You whipped your head around after Jeongin’s interjection. “What? Do you see something? What’s the call?”

“Relax! It just looks like he’s approaching someone he wants to talk to. I think both of us are about to be proven wrong.”

“Ah, shit.” You sighed. “Don’t put me on edge like that.”

“I’m only trying to entertain myself.”

“Name. Who is it? You’ve got the roster.”

You partner was quiet for a minute, and you watched from a distance as Chan approached the man leaned over a martini seated at one of the perfectly decorated tables.

“Uh, I think that he’s Lee Minho. Some kind of royalty from somewhere else. Pretty low ranking from the looks of it. I think that he made a donation himself...and it’s...damn, larger than you would expect.”

“Should we be concerned?”

“No. Seems harmless.”

“Thank you for coming,” You made out the words that Chan had mouthed. He drew a chair next to the unknown man.

From what you could tell, Lee Minho was handsome to the full extent of the word: nearly all of his physical features were exemplary and his suit appeared to have been fitted to perfect for him; likely one of a kind. He too wore an insignia on his lapel, but it was one that you hadn’t recognized before. He had immaculately styled hair that had some kind of rebellious and boyish charm to it. The man had a kind of mystery about him too: you had been able to pride yourself in being able to read people, and it had saved your life on more than one occasion. But with him, there was something that you couldn’t place.

“Do they know eachother?” You asked Jeongin.

“Not that I know of. School friend maybe? Seems like all the royals send their kids to the same schools.”

“Hm. That would make sense.”

“Enjoying yourself?” Chan said.

Lee Minho nodded, and rose his glass to clink it with the prince’s.

“Do we think that he’s our...suspect?”

The stranger dipped his head into his hand as he listened to Chan speak. A flirty gesture that you had seen a hundred times or more. Still, the way that he inspected Chan, it wasn’t adoring. Or at least, you didn’t think that it was.

“No. I don’t think so.”

“What the hell are you yapping about?” One of the other guards snapped over the line.

“Um, classified stuff.” Jeongin quickly explained. “Above your paygrade. Don’t worry about it.”

“Fox. Watch out for him tonight.” You snuck over to a corner of the room where you could watch the two of them more discreetly.

“Affirmative....” Your partner paused. “Babydoll.”

“Pffff--Babydoll??” The same guard stifled his laughter. “You call her Babydoll, Fox? Damn, you all must be closer than I thought. Didn’t know that I was missing out on some of the action--”

“--Ever heard of a codename, Three?”

“Babydoll’s her codename.”

A grin crept over your lips. “Expect the unexpected.”

You had almost gotten distracted enough to miss how Lee Minho had leaned over to whisper something into the prince’s ear. After he had done so, Chan laughed out a little, then reached his arm around the other man’s chair comfortably.

“They’re...cozy.” You updated your partner.

“I’m trying to cross-check where he might know him from.”

Chan’s assistant and publicist finally slipped away with giddy little smiles. In many ways, you were jealous of them. They could leave whenever the wanted, eat what they wanted...

Jeongin scoffed. “Well, turns out...nothing. I can’t find anything.”

“Nothing?”

“Negative. I’m not seeing any crossover.”

“So they really are strangers?”

Your partner sighed. “Looks like neither of us are cashing ou--I mean--finding the suspect.”

Under your breath, you wondered aloud, “Who are you...Lee Minho?”

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

The night drew on longer with the rest of the formalities: the formal dinner, followed by several speeches from important people while dessert was being served. It all led up to the final act: His Royal Highness, Prince Chan’s speech. On several neat notecards marked with the crest, he held them in front of him while he ate his last bits of Mont Blanc Chocolate Pavlova. Even the name of the sweet itself sounded pretentious. Granted, it smelled delicious--as many expensive things did.

You stifled a yawn from your little set up on the edge of the room. At least you should’ve been able to sit, but it turns out that sitting is also against the rules in this line of work. A couple other security and bodyguards had joined you at the edge: some of their heads nodded with sleep, and the others looked as if they had taken one too many energy shots. Luckily, your stamina had been well crafted.

A fancily dressed MC made his way up to the podium and the room filled with applause after the last speaker had said all of their correct mandatory words.

“It is my honor to introduce to the stage, our wonderful head benefactor of this organization, His Royal Highness, Prince Chan of the Crown.

Applause tenfold of before erupted through the whole room and it wasn’t even an afterthought for the every attendee to stand up from their seats in an ovation. It was a force of habit for you, but you found yourself clapping as well.

Chan rose with grace, and re-buttoned his jacket with finesse. A blinding spotlight found him and it made the diamonds adorning his beck wink brilliantly. Even more blinding was his pearl white, and perfectly trained smile accompanied by his wave.

Thank you. Thank you. He mouthed.

“It’s like he’s a frickin’ movie star.” Jeongin groaned.

“Might as well be with the way that they treat him. You know deep down they’re all just terrified.”

Chan made his way up to the stage in all of his regality, and the applause didn’t stop until he cleared his throat. A collective groaning of a couple hundred chairs squeaked when everyone sat back down.

“Thank you everyone, really. I wanted to thank you all for your generous support in your donations to this organization, as well as your association with the crown. I’m sure that all the beneficiaries of your donations are beyond thankful compared to me. Without you, this would not be possible.” Chan spoke with grandiose gestures, as usual, but this time, he had found you on the side of the room. “Listen, aside from being a prince, I’m also just a person. A person who knows what it means to struggle, to--”

“--I can’t listen to this anymore.” You whispered into the quiet room, and to your partner.

“Just a few more hours.” He droned. “I almost wish that something would happen so that we don’t have to sit though much else of this.”

“Be careful what you wish for.”

In the corner of your eye, Lee Minho shifted in his seat, but still kept his undivided attention to the stage. You figured he must’ve been just like the rest of them: enamored by the flashiness of the crown--and Chan. He had a way of putting a spell on people: it was the kind of spell that a prince of deception had crafted after years of being kept under lock and key.

“--Anyway, what I’m trying to say, royal or fanciful we all might be, in the simplest way, we’re all just people, therefore this is what connects us all. Thank you.”

Chan was gifted yet another standing ovation that was somehow even more thunderous than before.

“Yeah right.” You scoffed. “People born into money. There’s a difference.”

Chan gave his last waves, then a clamor echoed from the back of the room. At first, it had just sounded like the same raucous laughter you had heard all night, but then it shifted to something different. The sound of laugher turned into shouting, then screams: high pitched and piercing. You had seconds to respond, head whipping around the room to catch sight of the confused prince. In your in-ears, the the sound of gunshots echoed with rapid-fire speed. Machine guns. Shouting commands barked in your ear, and muddled with Jeongin’s string of demands and questions.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OUT THERE? REPORT! REPORT!”

Your heart instantly started beating into hyperdrive, and your legs sprinted as fast has physically possible

“THEY’VE GOT GUNS!” A shrill and cracked voice of an older woman wailed from the back of the room.

Immediately after she had said so, shots fired into the darkened room with sparks, and the metallic sound of bullets hitting the marbled ground followed.

Chan looked around in his panic for you, petrified on the stage. You slung your gun out from your thigh holster and latched onto him with all of your might.

“TH-THEY JUST CAME OUT OF NOWHERE IN THESE VANS. THEY’RE ARMOURED, WE CAN’T--”

“Get the fuck down there and secure the exists!” Jeongin growled into his mic. “B--is the prince secure??”

“Secure!” You yelled back. Using your body as a barrier, you led the cowering prince through the mass hysteria of the crowd.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Shit.” Chan shook under your iron grip.

More shots fired into the room and bodies parted like the sea and fell over each other.

From the balcony, you had caught Jeongin aiming his own gun at the chaos below.

“I’ll cover you! Fuck! There’s so many of them! Get him to the car out back--Three, Six, meet B out there! Three!? Six!? Report!”

“Three and Six are down F!” One of the guards panted. “I can provide cover out back!!”

“Who’s speaking??” Jeongin bellowed, then aimed from above at one of the intruders. Your only focus was on weaving you and Chan out of there, but you had seen one of them in a blur. Each of the men with guns wore dark grey suits with black ties and leather gloves. Each of them wore their own crest: and it was all red.

“Bee?? Bee???” Chan shouted out for you, and jumped every time the crack of a shot echoed in the ballroom.

“I’ve got you, your Highness. We’ll be out soon. Keep your head down and listen to me.” Your arm held to him tightly, and you soon found the exit nearest. There was no telling if there would be more of them outside, but you loaded your gun quickly just in case, and pointed it out.

“Jeongin, get your ass down here!”

“Jeongin? Who the fuck is that??” Chan ducked down to hide himself behind your frame.

His name had slipped on your tongue, but that hardly mattered.

“I’ll be down in a second!!!”

“Don’t fucking waste time up there when I need you down here!!”

“Two! Two Reporting!!” A man suddenly yelled in your in-ear. “I’ve made it out back and I’ve secured the exit. The car is safe!!”

“FOX! Now!”

Your partner heaved, “I’m coming, I’m coming!!”

You kicked open the exit door, gun’s still blazing, however one one else could be found on the other side.

“Thank God,” You sighed.

“Oh shit, I’m gonna be sick.” Chan had turned paler than white, then stumbled in your arms.

“Hey, HEY!” You held him upright. “It’s gonna be alright. I’ve got you. You’re safe. You need to trust me. Your life is in my hands and I’m not giving it up easy, got it?”

“O-okay.” He stammered, then attempted to straighten himself.

“The Prince is outside, repeat, The Prince is outside. Two, are you in position?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Other than the fact that you had just escaped absolute peril, the evening was unbearably pleasant. Crickets chirped in the summer evening, and the humidity of the night smelled gorgeously of the lake that was near-by as well as the vast array of flowers that had been purposefully landscaped around the hotel. Chan’s uneven steps scraped at the gravel walkway.

Since you had canvassed the whole building well, you had known exactly where the getaway car was, but you were still careful.

“Bee. Bee!” Chan blabbered. “Have-have I told you yet that I-I’m in love with you?”

“No, you haven’t Your Highness.”

“I fucking am. If I die tonight, I want you to know that I am ridiculously in love with you, and fuck, I wanna--”

“--I’m sorry, Your Highness, respectfully, but now is not the time for this and you are not dying on my watch.”

Somewhere off in the distance, frogs croaked, and the splashing of fish in the lake plopped at the surface waters. You turned a corner to finally see Two waiting his his gun raised. He was a bit of a shorter and scrawnier man, but something about him told you that where he lacked in strength, he must’ve made up for in agility.

“I’m out! I’m out!” Your partner gasped, and over the in-ear you could hear his running footsteps. “I’m almost there! I’ll be there in a second!”

“Your Highness,” Two bowed and opened the car door. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. You can call me Two or J. Either you prefer.”

Jeongin came bounding around the corner with heaving breaths and his clothes askew. His glasses which just barely held onto his face had a crack on them and his knuckles were covered in blood.

“Let’s go.” The younger man prompted.

“In the car you go, Your Highness.” You motioned for him to do so.

Chan whimpered like a toddler.

You shoved his body in, “Stop that. Get in the car.”

“I’m in love with you Bee!” He yelled out, “I’M FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU BEE!”

Jeongin slammed the door in his face with a bit of a chuckle.

“He’s delirious.”

“Mm.” your partner smiled. “Sure.”

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headinthestaticsky · 3 years

Text

Sanctuary With the Enthralling Moon, Jasper Hale x Fleur Swan. Story 2, Chapter 1

AUTHORS NOTE: None of the character in Twilight belong to me. ALL rights go to Stephenie Meyer.

Summary: Another year has gone by, and that year was quite an eventful one. Bella moving back to Forks shook up Fleur’s life and yet, Fleur has never been happier. Her relationship with her sister might not be the best but... she is surrounded by love. Her friends, her father, and Jasper have all filled her life with happiness. But what happens when a incident occurs on her 18th birthday. Will the Cullens leave? Will Jasper stay in touch with Fleur? Or will she be cut off by them entirely?

LINK TO MASTERLIST

https://headinthestaticsky.tumblr.com/post/658474113276477441/sanctuary-with-the-enthralling-moon-jasper-hale-x

“Wake up in an ice-cold sweat And my skin starts to creep You're hovering above my bed Looking down on me Haunted house sound effects Dracula Teeth.”

Dracula Teeth by, The Last Shadow Puppets

I was getting softly shaken away by someone, I groaned and had turned the other way.

“I graduated... I don’t have to go to school anymore.” I mumbled.

“Wake up Petal, happy birthday.”

My eyes lazily opened, my dad was staring down at me, his eyes crinkled with happiness.

“Oh yeah... it is September 13th, it’s Bella and I’s birthday.”

“You forgot your own birthday?”

“I never know what the date is anymore dad don’t worry...”

“I got presents...” Dad said in a sing-songy voice... I could tell her was trying to persuade me.”

“Okay, okay I’m getting up.”

Dad had handed me two boxes, wrapped terribly but it was the thought that counts. The gifts were a new paint set and canvases and a new writing journal.

“Wow, these are great dad, thanks.”

“You’re welcome Petal.”

“You give Bella her presents yet?”

“Yeah, she freaked out on me for a bit... I joked and told her she had a gray hair. Speaking of gray hair... it looks like you have a speak there.” Dad joked.

“Ehh, gray suites me well.”

“So, what’d you plan on doing today? Were you going to hang out with Jasper?” He asked, he sat down on the edge of my bed

“Not until later on tonight, I thought we could something together...That steak at the diner sounds pretty good... or we could just take a long drive... both sound enjoyable to me”

“Sounds like a plan Petal. I luckily got the day off” He then got up and walked toward the door, leaving me by myself.

Graduating early had it’s perks... I had a lot more free time on my hands and I could do whatever I wanted with it. I got dressed eager to spend some one on one time with dad. Bella was already gone by the time I got up so Dad and I quickly made it to my car. We had been driving through the town for 30 minutes when he started a conversation.

“So, how are things with you and Bella?”

“Uh... it’s okay I guess. We don’t really fight but we don’t really talk at all if I’m honest.”

“Everything that happened last year in Phoenix got to you huh?”

“Yeah, it did. I guess it’s going to take some time for me to let it go.”

“I understand... I love that girl to death but I don’t even know if I’ve fully let it go.”

“I would understand if you hadn’t... she said some messed up stuff dad.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad stuff on your birthday.”

“Don’t worry about it you didn’t upset me, I get it, you were just curious.”

The rest of the drive was nice, quiet at some points but nice, we had gotten back into town at 4:30. Just in time to eat at the diner, then after that I would be off to the Cullens for the night.

“Ugh, that was good... but I think if I eat anymore I might explode!” I dramatized.

“Me too Petal, me too. We better go on back to the house, You said you had to be at the Cullens by 5:20.”

“Yeah... blame that on Alice, she’s very excited to throw Bella and I birthday party.”

I had driven back to the house quickly. My timing was immaculate, as soon as I had parked in the driveway, Jasper had pulled in as well.

“Chief Swan, nice to see you again.”

“Good to see you too, Jasper.”

“I hope you don’t mind me stealing Fleur for the rest of the night...”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine.”

“Bye dad, love you! I had fun.”

“Love you too.”

Jasper and I drove off as soon as dad was in the house. I was buzzing with excitement Jasper of course, fueled that excitement for me.

“Happy Birthday Darling.”

“Thank you love.” I pecked his cheek.

“I gotta ask... how crazy did Alice go with this whole birthday thing?”

“She reeled it in... like 10% of the crazy back.”

“Well, you tried to calm her down... as long as cake is involved we won’t have a problem.”

“Yes, their is cake... glad it could persuade you into coming down for the night.”

“I’m glad we both reached an agreement... you have cake, I show up.”

Jasper chuckled and held my hand. I felt happy, turning 18 marked another year of my life. When we arrived at the Cullens house, Alice had jumped out of the house and ran to greet me at the car.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

“Thank you, I really appreciate what you did for me.”

“No need to thank me, come, come.” I was then dragged inside by Alice. I could feel the excitement radiating through her body.

“Hey short-stack, happy birthday!”

“Happy birthday, Fleur.”

“Thanks Emmett, Thanks Dean.”

“Fleur, happy birthday.” Esme said her warm smile bring me even me joy.

“Thank you.”

“Happy Birthday Fleur! Rosalie said, she then pulled me in for a hug.

“Thank you, Rose.” I looked around after we broke apart.

“Where’s Bella at?”

“She’s late... as usual.” Alice said.

“Speak of the devil.” Rosalie said.

I turned around, I saw Edward and Bella standing in the living room. Neither of them looked very happy. I hadn’t seen Edward since everything that had happened with James. I couldn’t trust him much either, I felt uncomfortable to be around him now.

“Okay, Fleur, you open our gifts first.”

Esme and Carlisle had gotten a new phone, Emmett had gotten me seat covers and a new wheel cover for my car, Rosalie had gotten my a ring with my birthstone in it, and Alice had gotten me a new pair of black ankle boots.

“You’ve had your others ones long enough.” Alice stated.

“As nice as these are... you know I’m going to keep my other boots.”

“Of course, you’ve always been stubborn. Okay Bella, your next! ” Alice exclaimed.

Rosalie begrudgingly walked up to Bella and handed her a box.

“It’s a necklace... Alice picked it out.”

“Thanks.”

“Here’s Emmett’s.” Alice said

Bella shook the box, it was empty.

“Already installed it in your truck. Finally a good sound system for that piece of.”

“Hey, don’t hate on the truck.”

“Sorry...”

“Okay open up Esme and Carlisle next!”

The gift was in an envelope, before Bella could open it however... she got a paper cut.

“Ouch, paper cut.” She said and stuck her index finger up showing everyone.

“Wow Bella, how smart... show off a open wound in front of vampires... some of those vampires haven’t had blood...” I couldn’t even finish my own thought, growling was coming out from behind me. I turned around, Deans eyes were pitch black, and he had dark circles around them. He lunged toward Bella, Jasper had pulled me back and held me against his chest. Turning me around so I couldn’t see what was happening. I heard a huge crash followed by the sound of glass. I then heard another loud bang, followed by the sound of what seemed to be someone stepping on the Piano keys. Jasper led me out of the room after that. Taking me back outside.

“I-I didn’t think that was going to happen. I’m so sorry.” Jasper said, guilt laced in his words.

“It’s okay, I’m fine... It’s wasn’t your fault.” I said, pulling him close to me.

He rested his forehead against mine and sighed.

“Nothing good can come out of this you know... Edwards going to try and do something heroic.” Jasper said.

“Yeah, I know, love.”

“I don’t care what it is, as long as I can stay with you.”

“Always such a smooth talker Hale.”

“I do try my best.”

“It’s an amazing effort.”

“I better take you home, I don’t think Dean can be around any humans right now.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Timeskip: Back to Fleur’s house.

“I’ll see you tomorrow love.”

“Okay, love you Jazz.”

“Love you too.”

I pecked him on the lips before leaving his car. I ran inside, eager to get warm. It was always cold in September in Forks. I went to bed, I had a unsettled feeling in my stomach. I knew something was going to happen, and I didn’t know if I could stop it. The next day was strange, Jasper hadn’t called or texted me all day. I was starting to get worried. Dad was at work and Bella was at school so I didn’t have anything else to do. So, I decided to pace, I walked back and forth, back and forth through my room all day it seemed. It wasn’t until later that I had finally seen Jasper. The look on his face proved my gut feeling to be correct.

“Jasper? Whats wrong.?”

“We.. we’re leaving Forks.”

I stood there, my eyes widened, this was the last thing I wanted to happened.

#jasper hale x oc #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale #rosalie hale #edward cullen #alice cullen #esme cullen #emmett cullen #carlisle cullen #bella swan #twilight #twilight saga

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blanknamed · 4 years

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trial and error pt. 2 [senku x reader]

NOT ME FORGETTING TO POST CHAPTER TWO LMAOOO SORRY HERE IT IS THO

SHIPPING: SENKU X READER

PREMISE: [Name] had always known Senku was a little bit of an oddball but that’s what made him so interesting to her as children. Now in the Stone World, he’s only even more interesting what with his claims about shooting up to a million years worth of technology back, but some things never change with him; specifically on the concept of love. As a way to get him to think about it as something other than “disgusting feelings” she proposes for him to think of it differently, though it seems to be going in a direction she never expected.

PART ONE - PART TWO - PART THREE

{–*–}

CHAPTER TWO: CONTEMPLATION

How did I get myself into this situation? [Name] asked herself desperately, watching Ruri shuffle around her hut, staring at the dresses given by the village women lined up neatly on the floor. She held up a blue dress [Name]’s way, who only stared at the shortened skirt. Just the look alone was enough for Ruri to understand that she didn’t like it, causing her to giggle at the reaction.

“You don’t seem to be happy about this even though you were the one who gave Senku the idea.” Ruri stated as she kneeled behind her to start braiding [Name]’s unruly hair.

“Just because I gave him the idea doesn’t mean I wanted to be his little test subject.” [Name] groaned. An unreadable look passed Ruri as she watched the younger girl’s growing discomfort. If she was even more redder, she would’ve matched what she had looked like a few hours ago.

“Huh?” [Name] asked as she stared at Senku, who only looked at her pointedly. Quickly, blood rushed on every part of her face as she started stutter. “Wha--I--you did not just say what I thought I heard you say.”

“What part did you not understand?” Senku asked dismissively, talking as if he hadn’t just asked out his childhood friend on a date. “I might as well take you on one to get good feedback. No one else gives any as specifc as you.”

Feedback.

The word kept repeating in [Name]’s head, almost making her dizzy. What did she expect, though? She told him, a scientist, to treat it like an experiment. Test a hypothesis. She was pretty sure he only wanted to take her in particular because (1) he wanted good feedback, like he had said, and (2) if there was even a slight chance he was going to take another girl on a date, Senku was going to force [Name] to come along to examine and analyze. Which was, by common sense, not really going to be a date.

“Oi, you don’t say that to a girl, especially if you just asked her out.” Chrome called out, punching Senku on the shoulder. “Not to mention isn’t that a breach in--what was it? Ethnics? Right?”

“Ethics.” Gen corrected before nodding in confirmation, looking at the two friends. “There’s a lot of things that could go wrong because you’re not following the right rules here, Senku-chan. Wouldn’t it be better to just pair up two different villagers who are single and see how romance can be attainable from there?”

[Name] could see slight movements from her side, where a few of the younger villagers turned a hue of pink as they glanced at one another, probably thinking about the prospect of being one of Senku’s experiements. Seeing that the benefits outweighing the negative prospects (not getting injured in any way possible, no one being able to see them except possibly Senku, and the prospects of a lover), it looked like a few of them were already making the decision to be part of it.

But this was Senku. He wasn’t about to play matchmaker if he himself couldn’t even find a reason to think that love wasn’t some illogical construct to fill up human loneliness. She wasn’t the only who was thinking that, though, as Kohaku spoke up.

“But this is about Senku thinking he can’t have those types of feelings so its gonna have to be him.” She replied blandly. “[Name] was probably chosen because he wants her to be there to watch him for any signs, regardless if its here being taken on a date or not.”

“That and she proposed the idea so she’s going to do it.” Senku piped up, sending [Name] a teasing grin.

[Name], burning even redder, stuttered some more. “You-You’ve got to be kidding me Senku. This must be some type of joke. I only said that to make conversation.”

“It was an interesting conversation and a weird statement that I wanna experiment on. Nothing less expected from you, though, [Name].” Senku replied as he kept slurping at the last of his ramen. “Besides its not like you have anything to do tonight.”

“Yeah, but--wait, tonight? Don’t you have get things in order--start out a claim, set up the experiment?” [Name] rambled, now even more confused.

Kohaku met Chrome’s eyes with a deadpanned expression. Leave it to [Name] to treating it like an actual experiment and finding the faults. Though, Senku wasn’t usually one to leave out so many variables that could ruin the experiment.

“These are special cicumstances; have you ever participated in your own experiments? Adjustments will be made, yeah, but we might as well start it today and talk about it during the date. Just meet me by the bridge tonight. We’ll go to the field, go on a date, and then you can report to me anything you saw. Sound good? Cool. Now lets get back to work.” Senku said, standing up dusting off his pants, leaving a bewildered [Name] and possibly most of the village in his wake.

If it hadn’t been for a few of the village women, [Name] wouldn’t have been pulled out of her daze and internal panic. She’s had crushes on boys, yeah, but going on a date? Not really. She was too busy with school and helping her mother out at the store. There were a few times where she had almost gone on a one, but something always made her call in for a raincheck and then never proceeding afterwards.

But here she was 3,700 years later, sitting in a priestess’s hut, getting ready to go on a date with the world’s biggest asshole.

Kohaku had been the one to think about bringing the younger girl up to Ruri, explaining what had went down. Surprisingly, the village priestess was the least bit shocked about the events, deciding to (calmly) agree anyways to help relieve some of the immense stress [Name] was feeling. At the mention of Ruri helping created some domino effect with the village women, all offering to help [Name] get ready, much to her dismay.

“Its not like Senku’s gonna make the effort to dress nicely. I swear he wouldn’t have showered if I hadn’t made Chrome and Kinro drag him to the river a few days ago! Not to mention he’s only doing this to prove a point; that’s why he’s rushing it so quickly. So I really don’t think all of you should be treating this as anything special.” [Name] tried to reason as she watched the women pull up rope-like jewelry up to her body.

Kohaku scoffed. “Its not like boys know how to take care of themselves in the first place. I’m pretty sure one of the men in the village has his head screwed on properly or most likely Gen is gonna make him dress up just a little bit. Not to mention if this is an experiment then he’s most likely not trying to botch it to just prove a point.”

“Then why was he being so… So…” [Name] trailed off, not quite putting a word on it.

“Adamant?” Ruby offered as she held up a pretty necklace with a jewel attached to it.

“Excited?” Garnet said next as she pushed her chin up to spread something on her mouth. Lipstick? [Name] inquired. I guess the need for makeup never changes after so many years.

“Not really excited but--hold on, didn’t you three want to go on a date with Senku? I thought you’d be mad or something.” [Name] stated, clearly remembering the usual formula of girl’s behaviors during the modern era. It usually involved in some type of “she said he said” situation, where rumors ensued. At the very least, the three sisters should have been upset with her for Senku’s selection in dates.

Sapphire shrugged as she plucked at [Name]’s baggy dress. “We were for a few hours, but we might as well help since you look like you don’t know the first thing about going on a date.”

“Wha--Hey!” [Name] retorted, offended before backtracking. I mean, it’s not like they’re wrong.

“Maybe he actually likes you.” Kohaku suggested as she sat across from [Name]. Silence filled the room as all the girls stared at them. A moment passed between the two girls as they looked at one another until [Name] bursted out laughing, almost smearing her cheek against the lipstick hovering in front of her.

“Not possible. I’m pretty sure he sees me more of a germ than a person. Not to mention he’s never really found the girls in his own grade--the ones older than me--attractive so what’s the likely chance he sees me that way?” She asked when she stopped. She recalled a rumor swirling around the school about Senku rejecting over 10 girls during Valentine’s Day, all of them varying in popularity and looks.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, [Name]-san.” Ruri commented as she held another dress up to her, this one looking a little more decent. “You’re easily one of the prettiest girls here.”

“Don’t make me laugh again…” [Name] mumbled to herself, flinching when she felt Sapphire poke at her waist once again. “Oi, why are are you poking me?”

“I’m trying to see what your shape is like so we can let you try on one of the dresses.” Sapphire replied, pouting. “Why do you have to wear such baggy clothes?”

“Practicality.” Was the only response [Name] gave as she tried to keep still when makeup was being put on her.

“That’s a lame excuse. I bet you’re just hiding the fact you have small boobs.”

“My boobs have nothing to do with my clothes. Besides, small boobs or not, it shouldn’t matter what people think about them--!” [Name] yelled out, embarrassed, as a dress was thrown onto her lap.

It was blue, like most of the villager’s clothing, but it seemed more simple and less body-hugging like most of the clothes. It flowed down near the bust, where it had folded nicely around it to adjust to anyone wearing it. The sleeves were puffy and ended where her biceps began, looking kind of like neatly made muffins. Instead of a rope, a thin piece of cloth of the same color was tied to the front, giving a nice, simple finish for the clothing.

If Mom was still alive, she’d probably be looking at how well done this dress was with just a simple loom and needle. [Name] thought as she marveled at the tiny needlework near the waist, creating tiny little flowers near the top. Looking up, she met Ruri’s gentle smile. “That should fit you since one of the village women is identical to your body shape. Now, lets get you dressed; you have to meet up with Senku soon.”

PREVIOUS PART - NEXT PART

#senku ishigami x reader #senku x reader #dr. stone senku #senku ishigami #ishigami senku #ishigami senku x reader #ishigami senku fanfic #fanfiction #ishigami senku fanfiction #senku ishigami fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 work #arielle's fics

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sope-and-shine · 3 years

Text

When World’s Collide: Pt. 2

-> Pairing: Moon God!Taehyung x Fate!Reader -> SFW // fluff, angst, humor // enemies to lovers!au, soulmate!au -> Word Count: 20.1k -> Summary: Taehyung has spent most of his life ignored by his peers and alone on his barren planet. So when a lonely King reaches out to him in hopes to bring his love to him, how could he ignore his plea? However, it’s not good to mess with Fate, and it’s even worse to make the same mistake twice. -> Warnings: mild language, the reader is a bad bitch, minor character death, minor innuendos, crying children, Tae gets into multiple fights

a/n: Part 2 is finally done! I wanted everything for part 2 to be perfect before I posted it! We only have one more part to go and then this series will be complete!! I really hope you enjoy!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Masterlist

When you left the previous night, you didn’t want to think about what could have happened between Taehyung’s projects. For the past 72 hours, you’ve seen at least 49 different ways last night could have gone, and each one was worse than the last. You refused to acknowledge any tugs you felt all night and right now the only thing you want to do is make sure nothing was damaged beyond repair.

Hoseok sits on the chair behind the security desk, eating a breakfast sandwich despite not actually needing sustenance the way the humans do. He insists it’s only to keep up his human appearance, but you both know it’s because he’s become obsessed with the taste and the sensation. You try not to roll your eyes when you think about how many he’d shoved into the fridge at his - and Yoongi’s - apartment.

“Don’t you think we would have heard about something by now?” He asks, “Besides, can’t you just look at your hands?”

You sigh, “I’d rather look at the events and see which path they chose. I’ll worry about everything else later.”

Of course you could just look at your hands, but being able to see the vision clearly can sometimes be far too overwhelming even for you. Just the tugs on your fingers are enough to make you itch constantly. You’ve even gone as far as to buy ‘fidget toys’ - as the humans call them - to distract humans from the constant twitching you’ve become so used to. Though you have to admit that the toys themselves give you a brief moment of relief.

With his mouth full, Hoseok side-eyes you, “Sometimes it worries me just how much you know.”

“Show me the tape.”

Hoseok shrugs and turns to the monitors in front of him. He logs into the system and clicks around, finding the footage from the night before and following every camera Eunha goes through. He rewinds the tape back to a bit after everyone left for the night. It shows Eunha making her rounds and walking to the king’s exhibit. Both of the deities watch as she shines her light through the gate and walks away. As they speed through the footage, it looks like no interaction happened the previous night at all.

Hoseok pauses the footage after Eunha returns to the security room and turns to you, who's just as confused as he is, “That looks like nothing.”

“It isn’t nothing.” You can feel it. You’ve practically already seen it. There is no way the two didn’t meet last night, “Show me his cameras.”

Hoseok does as he’s asked. He finds the set of 4 cameras hidden in the exhibit room and clicks on the widest angle. This camera shows Eunha entering the exhibit and taking a look around, but nothing more. It isn’t until she passes the necklace case that you see the glittering jewels shine within the glass. “There.”

“The spell...” Hoseok’s peaceful demeanor diminishes and an unusual scowl covers his features, “Did he even try to break it?”

You nod, “Even if he didn’t, I did.” You weren’t stupid enough to believe that Taehyung would actually try to get rid of his creation. You’ve been far beyond giving him the benefit of the doubt for quite some time now. However, actually destroying the necklace he designed proved to be much harder than a simple conversation with the Moon God himself.

“We’ll just have to stay on top of them.” You stand up from the chair you’d brought over to the desk and stand, raising your arms up high to stretch before you leave.

Hoseok picks up his office phone and hovers his finger over the keypad, “Should I page Taehyung?”

You wave the security guard off, “No. I’ll find him later. Just let me worry about this.”

You leave Hoseok to get back to work and leave for your own office. Not only do you have your regular responsibilities as a deity to attend to, but your human ones as well. Hours spent at your desk not only speaking to employees as needed, but also looking at your strings and following tugs against them. Most tugs come from your own friends and their daily interactions with museum patrons. You try to ignore them, but it’s hard to just let them interact with mortals when you know how bad the outcomes could be.

Taehyung is your prime example of just how true that can be.

You find the blonde in the children’s exhibit he took over curating, helping the youngest of museum patrons to interact with the activities around them. He’s tucked himself between two young children in front of a LEGO station. He tries to help them recreate the dragon behind the glass, but the children are much more creative then the blueprint laid in front of them.

You approach the group from behind as the young boy on Taehyung’s left turns to him with a smile, “Do you like my dog, Mr. Kim?” He shows him a combination of green and blue blocks, resembling a table more so than a dog but Taehyung still gasps dramatically.

“It’s amazing!” He clasps his hands together in celebration, but you’re still stuck on the child’s inability to realize that the object they’ve created is not a dog.

“That’s a table.”

You watch as Taehyung and the boy turn to you, one confused and the other seeming slightly irritated. With big brown eyes, the young boy pouts, “No, it’s a dog!”

“It doesn’t have a head.”

“Yes it does.” Taehyung interjects, “The head is right here. Isn’t that right, Beomgyu?” He points to the singular blue block that holds the top pieces together, not even close to resembling what he and the boy claim it to be. Even when the boy nods, you’re still left unconvinced.

You bend down to be on their level with furrowed brows, “It doesn’t even have a tail.”

“It doesn’t need a tail!”

“Yes it does.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“It’s not a dog if it doesn’t have a tail.”

“You’re wrong!” At this point, little bubbles of tears are welling in the young boy's eyes. His feelings are hurt, but you’re none the wiser to his discomfort. You’re taken by complete surprise when he stands up and throws his creation back onto the table, “Mom!”

“No, Beomgyu, it’s-” Taehyung tries to reassure him that his creation is perfect just the way it is, but he stops trying as the little boy runs to the next room in disheartened tears, “-okay…”

You’re left ignorant to the scene you created, instead grabbing the pieces the young human boy threw down and putting them back with the pile at the center of the table. You settle onto your knees in front of the work bench to help clear it off for the next children, “Having a good day?” You ask the blonde beside you.

His shoulders fall, utterly defeated, “I was.” He sounds hostile, and you’re left oblivious as to why. To you, the small child is nothing. But to Taehyung, Beomgyu is a sweet, creative little boy with so much potential. And you...you just potentially crushed his dreams. The amount of anger Taehyung is starting to harbor for you is beginning to overshadow his fear, “What can I do for you today, Madame Director?”

There’s malice in his tone, but you don’t register it, “I want to know about last night. Hoseok and Yoongi said you had her touch the necklace.”

“I did.”

“And did you stay to watch?”

As much as Taehyung wanted to stay and watch the long awaited meeting unfold in front of his own eyes, he couldn’t risk messing up again. The last time he interfered, he only made everything worse. When an opportunity came for him to intervene, he was too late. He didn’t understand, and that lack of understanding is what brought him - and everyone else - where they are now. He’d never admit it out loud, and especially not in front of you.

The lack of response from the god beside you is the only answer you need, “So you don’t know either.”

“I wanted them to meet on their own,” He says, not lying but not telling the whole truth, “I was just going to see her in a bit and check in about last night. Did you know she’s been working constantly without a day off since Chanyeol left?”

“Hoseok might have mentioned that. But considering this whole situation is your mess-” Taehyung rolls his eyes,“-checking in sounds like a great idea! I want you to talk to her and update me.” The blonde is quick to turn his head, fearing he’s heard you wrong, but you only stare back at him expectantly. “Agreed?”

“Yeah! I can do that.” To say the god is surprised would be an understatement. From day one of him orchestrating this whole charade, you haven’t wanted any part of it. You haven’t wanted to put up with him. You specifically told him that this was between himself, Hoseok, and Yoongi and that you wanted no part of it. Your sudden involvement has Taehyung beaming with curiosity, “Any reason for the new interest?”

You frown and throw the conjoined lego pieces in his direction, hitting his shoulder and falling behind him. He flinches back, his hands pulling close to his chest before reaching up and over his left shoulder to try and catch the miniature building blocks. You try to hide a smirk, “Don’t read into this, Taehyung. This is my job.”

Taehyung retrieves the pieces you threw at him, “Mhm, sure! Sure…”

“I’m serious, Taehyung. I know a lot more than you do.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to remind me...” Taehyung mumbles.

They way he says it is just as condescending as he usually is when you bring up your job. It seems no matter how many times you try to explain to him what your job entails, it goes in one ear and right out of the other. He never actually listens to you, he just continues to think whatever he’d like.

You sigh, “You know, I don’t act like this to be mean.”

“Then why act like this at all?” He asks.

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Of course I would!”

You scoff, “Considering you don’t understand it yet, I sincerely doubt you would even comprehend what I’m talking about if I were to tell you.”

And there you go again, telling Taehyung how unintelligent he is just so you can be right. It’s never an off switch with you. Always a vague explanation and a promise that he’ll understand, but he never does. “Oh yeah, it must be so hard looking at your fingers all day.”

And just like that, the both of you have gone back to square one.

You set down what you were picking up and stand. Without so much as a frown you say, “Do what I asked and I won’t make Hoseok follow you around.” And walk away from the activity table, leaving Taehyung just as displeased with your attitude as you are with his.

To Taehyung, you have no right to be angry with him - you have a few rights to be angry with him. Sure, he’s made some mistakes here and there, but there’s no reason to continue to hold it against him! He’s learning. Everyone learns. It’s completely unfair that he should have to face relentless reminders of such a simple fact.

Nevertheless, he does as you’ve asked. He had intended to watch for Eunha to arrive anyway. He wanted to know what had happened the night before just as everyone else did, but he knew he had to wait and be subtle.

When she finally arrives, she looks a bit out of it. She makes a detour around Seokjin when she would normally greet him. Her hair isn’t as neat as she usually keeps it and the bags haphazardly thrown onto her shoulder show she’s in a bit of distress. Her walking is much faster than her normal pace, and Taehyung hopes that’s not a bad sign.

He decides to wait for her upstairs in the king’s exhibit, taking a seat on his favorite bench in the museum. It’s always a nice place to sit and have a rest throughout the day, it let’s him think back to old times when his plan was much simpler. A time where his friend didn’t spend all hours of the day inside of a dusty box waiting for his soulmate to return to him.

It’s moments like this that Taehyung can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he’d left Namjoon alone. If he had just ignored the King’s prayer for help, would he have still fallen ill? Were they destined to meet the same way even if he hadn’t interfered? Would Namjoon and Eunha have been able to meet in this life as well if it hadn’t been for his insistence to give the King a companion? Even worse, what if you’re right?

You told him that if he meddles too much that their strings could knot and burn. If that happens, then everything he’s worked for goes down the drain. Eunha and Namjoon will never get their happy ending and it will all be his fault. If only Yoongi would just make everything easier.

“Damn it!” Taehyung curses, more to himself than anything. He’s working himself up and that won’t do him any good. In moments like this, he takes a page from Namjoon’s book and does something to calm himself. He pulls a small sketch pad out of his bag and throws a leg over his knee, focusing all of his worries and anxieties onto the piece of paper in front of him. Namjoon always wrote in his journals when he was worried about something, but Taehyung has never been great with words. Instead, he draws doodles of patrons and co-workers, even sketches of flowers to ease his ramped mind.

Taehyung hears the clicks of her shoes before he sees her, “Having fun there?”

He wants to lift his head and tell her he’s really worried beyond belief, that he’s the reason she looks so tired. But revealing himself now would ruin everything, so for now he remains a friend in the background.

---

His talk with Eunha went about as well as he expected. She was definitely lying so she wouldn’t worry him - or sound absolutely insane to any normal human. But he could tell just how freaked out she was, and if she wasn’t accepting Namjoon now, then there’s a good chance his plan just took a turn for the worst. He’ll just keep that bit to himself, though. What you don’t know, won’t hurt him.

Hopefully.

He saves himself the hassle of having to unlock and re-lock your door in favor of just appearing inside; however, he didn’t expect to see you sitting at your desk eating a bag of chips. Your one leg is tucked under you while your foot rests on the cushion of your chair. You’re staring at your computer with great interest, so you must be reading something.

You cast a quick glance at your sudden intruder and sigh, but continue your reading, “I did leave the door unlocked.”

Taehyung checks to see if you’re lying, and he’s completely shocked to find you telling the truth, “Why didn’t you lock it? She could come in here!”

“This isn’t an area patrons can enter. Besides, she won’t come here.” You place both legs on the ground and lean over your work to pat your desk, “Have a seat.”

Taehyung is more than hesitant to join you, but he does take a seat. He studies the contents of your desk and finds not one, but two empty chip bags, “Shrimp chips?”

You shrug, “Hoseok. He’s been going overboard with the human food and leaving me gifts every morning. Of all the things he’s left, this one is the most satisfying.”

Taehyung cracks an amused smile, “You’d think Yoongi would want comfort food more than Hoseok.”

“Comfort food?” You ask. You haven’t heard that term before.

“Yeah. That’s what humans would consider chips.” Taehyung explains, “They call them snacks too! They’re things you can enjoy when you get hungry or you just really want to eat something.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Far from it actually.” You give Taehyung a quizzical look and he shrugs, “I don’t understand it yet either. Humans are very confusing.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So what are you doing here? I figured you’d be as far away from the museum as possible.” Taehyung asks, eyeing the high pile of papers that decorate the top of your desk.

You shrug, “I’d rather take care of all the human work I’m supposed to do so I can do my real job when it comes up.”

The blonde leans back in his chair, “And this has nothing to do with Eunha and Namjoon?”

“Oh, it has everything to do with them.” You assure him. You take a moment to sit back and look at what you’ve done so far and let out a heavy sigh, “I can’t sit still knowing that they’re both here alive and-...Well-...together.”

Your eyes stray to your hands and Taehyung takes notice of the blank look that takes over, “What are you so afraid of?”

You close your eyes, shake your head, and smile, “Fear has nothing to do with it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

With that you get back to work, hoping to finish your human duties before the morning so you can spend your day doing your real job. Taehyung remains in front of you, silently watching you work away after brushing him off so easily once again. He doesn’t take any offense to it anymore - though it does annoy him to no end - at this point it’s like your own way of communicating.

However, Taehyung is focused on one thing and one thing only after a long day of stress and hard work.

“Could I have a chip?”

---

It’s been about a week and a half since Taehyung managed to bring Namjoon and Eunha together and despite how optimistic it had seemed, he’s now beginning to realize just how flawed this plan really is.

“She’s not even willing to give him a chance!” The blonde complains, picking at the chicken on his plate instead of eating it.

Jimin - who sits across from him eating his own food - shrugs, “He did scare the living shit out of her.”

“I can confirm that her soul left her body for a solid 7 seconds when they first met.” Hoseok pipes up, his mouth still full with food.

“Why don’t you just go back to fanboying?” Jeongguk asks, taking a sip of his soda, “Wasn’t that working?”

“Not anymore.” Taehyung sighs. He’d been talking non-stop about the dead king since he first landed his job. He’s done nothing but keep up appearances since then in hopes of intriguing Eunha into liking Namjoon just as much as he does, but hopes seem to be quickly going down the drain, “What if (Y/n) is right and this is all just going to bite me in the ass again?”

Hoseok laughs, “I could have told you that.”

The three lower tier gods turn to Death, but only Jimin is bold enough to question him while he gorges himself on human pleasantries, “Why are you here again?”

Hoseok’s ears surprisingly turn red in embarrassment and he swallows the food in his mouth, “You guys said you were getting food here…Ms. Oh gives me extra kimchi when I come here.”

Taehyung can’t help but chuckle, “You really do think with your stomach.”

Hoseok’s brows furrow, “Who told you that?”

“(Y/n).”

Jimin stops eating, “You two have been hanging out?”

The blonde shrugs, “She just wants updates on Namjoon and Eunha and the choices they make. She obviously can’t be bothered to do it herself. It’s not like it isn’t her job.”

Jimin scoffs and Hoseok chews away quietly at his food, but Jeongguk doesn’t seem too convinced with Taehyung’s assumption, “Maybe she’s just trying to make conversation the only way she knows how.”

“She couldn’t ask about my day instead?”

“You give (Y/n) way too much credit.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, “A guy in my philosophy class acts the same way! He’s really bad at making conversation, so he starts talking about class related stuff to drive himself.”

Taehyung thinks back to their most recent meeting where Fate had asked him about Namjoon and if he’d been causing problems. He remembers how the conversation started, but how it digressed into complaining about Yoongi and Jeongguk he’d never know.

“Still-” Taehyung refuses to falter, “-I do a lot with my day.”

“Taehyung. I hate to break this to you, but knowing what happens to Namjoon and Eunha is what you do with your day.” Jimin points out. Taehyung flings a piece of his chicken in the blonde’s direction, and he blocks with the back of his hand before it can hit and ruin his work shirt. He sends Taehyung a glare and cleans his hand with a napkin, “But I do agree, she could try a bit harder if she’s trying to have a real conversation.”

“You guys really don’t get her, do you?” Hoseok asks.

“Of course we do! She’s Fate.” Jimin says, “She holds the strings of the future in her palms and it’s up to her to keep the universe balanced and blah blah blah.”

Hoseok sighs at Jimin’s mockery, “There’s a lot of responsibility that comes with holding the universe in your hands.”

“Yeah, that’s why Hui sits with the others while the rest of us do work.” Jimin scoffs.

Hoseok bites the inside of his cheek, “He has more responsibilities than you. You messed that up on your own.”

Jimin shrugs and takes a sip of his water, “Not everyone wishes to be walked all over.”

Hoseok almost looks offended, “You think we walk over you?”

“What else should I call it? Aggressive advice?” Jimin leans forward like he’s challenging Hoseok. The air surrounding the table goes cold as Hoseok slowly sets his chopsticks on the table with a firm grip. It’s obvious he’s trying to hide his anger.

“Listen-”

“Hoseok~!” The god’s anger disappears completely at the mention of his name. From behind him, sweet Ms. Oh comes right up to him with a small package of extra kimchi. She places a hand on his shoulder and presents the to-go container to him, “I put in a little extra kimchi in there for you.”

Hoseok accepts her offer graciously with both hands, “Thank you, ma’am. I promise to eat it all!” Ms. Oh pinches his cheek and turns to return to her kitchen. Hoseok waits until she’s completely out of ear shot before he lets his frustrated frown return, “Just think about it this way: Maybe it’s not just humans she doesn’t understand.”

Taehyung can’t help but look down to his plate, ‘Had he been too quick to judge Fate because of their own history together?’

Hoseok piles his finished dishes on top of each other and stands from the table, “I’ll see you after your lunch.”

Jimin glares after Hoseok until he leaves, “Yeah, it’s pretty obvious that she doesn’t understand much,” He scoffs. He looks at his own plate and wills it all to go away, leaving only the mess so he doesn’t hurt Ms. Oh’s feelings. Leaning back in his chair he sighs, “Maybe I can try talking to Eunha again. What do you think?”

Earth looks to the Moon, but he’s somewhere else in his own space in the universe. He can’t help but rethink his most recent interruptions with Fate again and wonder if her stubbornness - as well as his own - is what’s kept them from seeing eye to eye. If he wants to help Namjoon and Eunha then he’ll have to get Fate’s approval. But how?

Taehyung looks at the guard schedule you handed him, studying the 4 blank days beside Eunha’s name. He looks up to you - still awkwardly typing away on your computer, “Days off?”

You nod, “Yes, Hoseok thinks it’ll be good for her.”

“And do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

You stop typing, your fingers curling in as you think about what to say, “I think it’ll help her figure things out for herself.” If you were a human and had everything pushed onto you the same way, you’d probably feel as overwhelmed as she looks. Even a few weeks into this whole charade and she still seems too in over her head, “Everything is still very new for her, and the stress might eat her away if she doesn’t get some kind of break.”

Taehyung laughs in disbelief, “When did you become efficient with humans?”

You choose to ignore the blonde and return to your typing, “Efficient? Wow, that’s a big word. I’m impressed.”

“Mocking me doesn’t answer my question.” Taehyung points out, sitting back in his chair and resting one leg over the other.

“Doesn’t it?” You ask, raising a brow in his direction. You shrug your shoulders and look back at your screen, “I’ll have you know that I’ve always been efficient with humans.”

“Really?” He scoffs, “Is that why you told that one lady her love line was doomed if she didn’t stop sleeping around?”

“I had to warn her.”

“She ran out of the bathroom crying.”

“The truth hurts.”

“She hit Seokjin with her purse.”

“And I bought Seokjin a coffee and a donut in return.”

“You know that’s not how you’re supposed to deal with that situation, right?”

You smile, unaffected by your actions, “I’ll consider it a learning experience then.”

“Do you even know what you should do in that situation?” He asks.

That has you pausing. Of course, in an ideal situation you wouldn’t be involved at all. But you’re not acting as a god anymore, you’re parading around as a human. And while you’re confident you know more than Taehyung about humans and their society, you can’t help but wonder if you’re more out of touch than you thought.

Taehyung sits up and moves so he can rest his arms against your desk with his chin resting on his forearms, “Are you sure you really know humans?”

The last time you had been on Earth to associate yourself with the humans was almost 7 years ago, and it was only to warn Taehyung about his own future. You’d only bumped into a few humans on the street, and you didn’t even have to speak to anyone at all. Your knowledge of humans in the last 100 years - at least - has been almost entirely reduced to nothing.

You know for a fact that Taehyung was taught about humans by Jimin himself after the blonde’s first run on the troublemakers planet. It leaves you wondering just what Taehyung has learned and if he’s capable of making better decisions than before.

You turn to the curator and mirror his position, leaning on your desk, “What would you have done?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have had to apologize to Seokjin or the lady because I wouldn’t have said anything.”

You laugh, “Well, yeah. Your lady days are behind you.”

“Once again, mocking me won’t make me wrong.” Taehyung says, tapping you on the nose with a smug grin.

You wrinkle your nose but make no effort to move and show no sign of disgust, “Are you sure?”

Taehyung finds himself staring at you longer than he normally does. You're obviously unimpressed with him, but you still seem happy. It’s like when he talks about Namjoon to Eunha and she pretends she’s not annoyed out of her mind. He thinks back to the other day with Hoseok at Ms. Oh’s and he can’t help but wonder if he could change your mind .

“Why don’t we make a deal?” He asks.

You barely gave him a chance to finish his sentence, “No.” You sit up and return to your working position.

“Come on-”

You hold up a finger to silence him, “We’re in the process of one of your deals, and I don’t like your track record.”

“Just humor me.” He pleads.

You close your eyes in annoyance, “Speak.”

“Eunha gets 4 days off. We don’t have to keep an eye on her or Namjoon. Let’s go out and really experience the human world together.” He pushes your stacks of paperwork aside, “Let me show you what humans are really like.”

“And…?” You ask, knowing he has more up his sleeve than just showing you the humans of today.

“If I prove to you that humans are more than just random strings that come and go, then you have to really help me with Eunha and Namjoon. If they’re not, then I’ll convince them to destroy the necklace on their own.” Taehyung knows he’s risking everything just to prove a point, but he’s confident that if he plays his cards right then he can get you to at least see things from his point of view, “They’re more than you give them credit for, and I think you would change your mind if you saw them in a different light than that of a god.”

“If you’re so confident you can change my mind that you’d give up after 1,000 years, then who am I to deny?” Your response has Taehyung jumping from his seat in glee, almost stumbling over the chair he was sitting in from moving too fast. You hold back a chuckle as he tries to put everything back where it belongs, “I’ll approve your time off for tomorrow.”

“You won’t regret it.” He assures you.

“I’m sure I won’t.” Despite his annoying persistence and his inability to comprehend the simplest of explanations, you can’t deny that he does try his best with everything.

Taehyung is just happy that you actually agreed. He was sure that you’d turn him down and he’d go home to figure out another way to sneak around you, but this will be perfect! All he has to do is win you over. Which may be a bit daunting now, but he’s sure he’ll get over it.

He’s about to leave when you call out to him, “Taehyung-!”

He turns and you smile, “Make sure it’s something really special if you’re going to get me to agree.”

“Trust me, it will be.”

—

“You’re an idiot.”

Not the words Taehyung expected to hear after he told Jimin and Jeongguk about his new plan. He figured they’d have some distaste for his plan, but this was a bit much.

“Come on, Jimin. Do you really have that little faith in me?” Taehyung asks.

“Yes.” The blonde walks away from the living room to go to the kitchen.

“He’s made it pretty obvious.”

Taehyung turns to the youngest deity with a frown and points a finger at him, “You have no room to talk.”

The two follow Jimin to the kitchen where the eldest of the three makes himself a glass of water at the fridge over his usual glass of champagne. When he turns and sees Taehyung again, he heaves a heavy sigh and sets the glass on the island in between them, “If you think you’re going to convince Fate that humans are something special then you have another thing coming to you, Taehyung! (Y/n) has never valued humans and she never will.”

“Like you have? She took them from you for a reason, didn’t she?” Jimin narrows his eyes at Taehyung and the Moon continues on, “Maybe she just forgot how that feels.”

“Or she won’t and this will ruin everything we’ve worked for. Did you think about that?” He asks.

“Of course I did! But I know that won’t happen.” Taehyung leans on the counter and makes himself eye-level with his friend, “You have to trust me.”

“You better not blow this.” Jimin picks up his glass and walks out.

“I won’t!” Taehyung calls after him, but the Earth has already left his orbit.

If someone were to look up the definition of worry and anxiety in a dictionary, they’d find a picture of Taehyung. Asking Fate to make a deal with him had seemed like a great idea when he first thought of it, but now as the blonde stands at the bus stop waiting for her to arrive he’s starting to have second thoughts. As much as he hates to admit it, your track record for being correct is far more superior to his. The chances of him changing your mind are about as high as Yoongi smiling at him without being forced to.

“Taehyung?” You ask, pulling the god out of his thoughts. You’re sitting right next to him and he didn’t even notice you arrived. For once, you look worried, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, the bus should be here soon.” Taehyug assures you with the best false confidence he can muster. If today is going to go well, then he needs to leave every worry on this bus bench and focus all of his energy on you and what would make you more likely to finally see from his point of view.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “Not yet. Our outing for today will remain a surprise until we get there. Unless you’ve already looked ahead?”

He’s teasing you and you know it, “I’ve kept my hands to myself, thank you.” You assure him with a light nudge to his side, trying to ignore the amused smile that paints his features.

He nudges you back, “Good. Keep it that way.”

The bus arrives a few moments later, it’s door stopping in front of Taehyung. The both of you get up and approach the doors, waiting off to the side for previous passengers to exit. You’re about to walk around Taehyung when the last one exits, but his arm flies in front of your chest and stops you in your tracks. You have half a mind to snap at the blonde, but your anger disappears when you see why he stopped you.

“Here let me help you.” Taehyung steps forward to grab the front end of a child’s stroller, gently lifting it and helping the mother carefully steps down herself with a little girl right behind her. Taehyung sets the stroller’s wheels on the ground and turns to the little girl with a bow on the top of her head and her hair poking out like a sprout and offers her a gentle hand with a wide smile, “Here you go, baby. Watch your step.”

The young girl takes his hand and jumps off the last step, just barely reaching the sidewalk with a little help from Taehyung. Her mother cheers for her and reaches out a hand for her to come back by her side. With a quick bow she thanks Taehyung and they continue on their way. You can’t help but watch the little girl bounce after her mother, her little feet almost dancing as she toddles on. No doubt Taehyung had just made that mother’s day easier and her child’s day happier.

“Ladies first.” Taehyung motions for you to board in front of him and you climb the steps, scanning your bus pass, and walking to the first available seats close to the back. You slide into the window seat and pull your bag into your lap, Taehyung settling into the seat beside you

The bus starts moving and the two of you are locked into a peaceful silence. Well, as peaceful as it can be for Taehyung. He told himself to leave his worries behind, but he’s still sitting next to you with every worry resting on his shoulders.

You’re more than happy not worrying about the humans around you or the mischievous god to your left. It’s a nice change of pace from the museum, especially with the view of the city right outside of your window. Leisure trips aren’t something you’re often used to. Unless someone needs you or you’re required to intervene, you really don’t go anywhere. It’s almost pleasant, but it’s hard to forget the company you keep when his legs won’t stay still.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“Huh?”

“Are. You. O-K?” You repeat slowly, “Your leg is shaking like crazy.”

“I’m just excited for our destination, that's all.” He assures you.

You nod, deciding to let it go for now. You’d find out soon enough.

The bus comes to a stop in front of a large, colorful building no Taehyung shoots up, “This is our stop!” He races from his seat down the aisle and you stand up and follow after him. You exit a few people after him and find the blonde staring at the large building in front of you. Dozens of children run freely, their parents rushing after them as teens and young couples parade around hand in hand.

You come to a stop beside Taehyung and give his arm a playful nudge, “Don’t tell me you were excited just to look at a building?”

He shakes his head, “I think you’re really going to enjoy yourself today.”

Without even thinking about it, Taehyung takes your hand and drags you behind him. All the way to the front doors of the building where a small line of people wait. He doesn’t miss a second and pulls out his phone, moving his head close to yours and smiling at his screen. His phone goes dark for a split second before he pulls it back to his chest. He moves on like what he did was nothing, but you’re left confused.

“What was that?” You ask.

Taehyung stops scrolling through his phone, long enough to raise an eyebrow at you. “You aren’t serious.” When you nod his eyes go even wider, “You work at a museum and you don’t know what a picture is?!”

“It’s a painting.”

“That’s a portrait.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yes. There is, and I’m going to take millions and millions of pictures to prove it!” To make his point, he pulls the hand holding yours away to throw it over your shoulder. He taps relentlessly at his screen, occasionally switching up the angle. You try to throw a hand in front of your face to block his new attack, but he’s quick to adjust his camera to continue his harmless assault. “Why are you hiding? I’m trying to teach you what a real picture is.”

“Taehyung!” You try to push away, but the blonde has a tight grip on you.

“Take pictures with me!” He whines, trying to inch his face even closer to yours.

You can hear the humans snickering around you, but your companion doesn’t seem to care at all. He has no problem keeping you caged against him while he “takes real pictures” in a weak attempt to persuade you. He doesn’t give up in the line or on the escalator going down until you get closer to the front and he has to let you go.

“Have you purchased your tickets already?” The kind woman asks as you attempt to fix your hair from Taehyung’s attack.

Taehyung slaps his thighs with both hands before shoving them inside his far pocket and pulling out folded papers. He hands them to her, “Here you are.”

She unfolds them and takes a quick look over the words on each page, pulling a scanner similar to the ones at the museum to check them both in before handing them back with a smile, “Enjoy your time today.”

“Thank you. We will!”

The both of you move on, walking to the second set of doors beyond the ticket line and walking through to see just how big the building really is. The outside doesn’t do justice to the humans who designed something so beautiful. The entrance gives a great view of the entire park, showing off several buildings and attractions, as well the flora and special decorations placed to appease the humans that visit. Everything is so well cared for, and the glass roof just makes everything look so bright and inviting.

“Do you see anything you’d like to do first?” Taehyung asks.

You’ve heard plenty about amusement parks. Many human’s string’s will entangle themselves in gears and doors, tied to trivial things like rides and children’s games. Their opinions all seem to differ with most of them split in half on how they truly feel about the park.

You shrug, “Why don’t you choose?”

You should not have let Taehyung choose. Especially not what the humans call a rollercoaster. What insane, psychopath designed a high speed death trap that turns you on your side and flips you upside down in a metal cage?! Only one deity is sadistic enough to test the limits of Life and Death like this, and you’re positive Yoongi had something to do with the creation of such a monstrosity. At one point, you were sure Taehyung was going to lose his hands!

Not every ride was as terrible. The pirate ship had seemed gentle enough at first, but then it kept going higher and higher and you started to feel yourself slipping out of your seat. You even wrapped your arm around Taehyungs to ensure you didn’t go flying over the metal bar they’d placed against your lap.

Every ride the two of you climbed onto felt like one death trap after another. There was no way Yoongi himself didn’t come down and design each and every inhumane attraction himself just to create some form of chaos. Anyone who actually enjoyed a near death experience needs to sign themselves up for human therapy.

After your last brush with Death, you sat yourself down on a bench to catch your breath and maybe your sanity as well.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung asks.

“What?”

“Are. You. O-K?” He teases, “You’re looking a little pale for someone that isn’t capable of getting sick.”

“Well, my complexion is all thanks to you and your death traps!” You remind him. You feel like your stomach is in your throat and you don’t even have a stomach! “How could humans actually enjoy these things?”

The blonde shrugs, “You’re just not a thrill chaser. Humans like a rush.”

You look at him astonished and bewildered, “Do they forget they’re mortal?! They could die!”

“That’s the fun of it!”

You groan and lean into the back of your bench, “Oh, you really have lost it.”

Taehyung can’t help but laugh at your misery. This is the first time he’s seen you so out of your element, and it’s almost refreshing. But he reminds himself that you’re supposed to be having fun. “C’mon, we went on some nice rides.”

“Oh, yes! The children’s rides! Those were much safer.” Taehyung laughs again and you give him a quick glare to shut him up, “Why can’t the humans just enjoy simple things?”

“Because YOLO.”

“Bless you.”

“No, it’s a saying. It means ‘you only live once’,” Taehyung explains, “There are quite a few humans that live by that.”

“They would risk the one life they have for a phrase?”

“They would risk it for a chance to have fun and feel alive.” He says, rephrasing the words in a way you could understand, “Most humans have to work to live. There are only a few that don’t need to worry about food or shelter. So, those that can make a point to have as much fun before they can’t anymore.”

“I guess that’s admirable...” You’d never really taken the time to consider why humans do what they do. It all seems pointless when you’re eternal. The concept is nice to think about when you give some thought to it. It almost makes what Taehyung has been trying to do a decent idea.

You stand before you can continue thinking as a human would, “Alright, what death traps are left?”

Taehyung’s smile grows, “I’m glad you asked.”

---

“Where’s the bar?”

“It’s behind you.”

When Taehyung dragged you to the large, circular ride with couches around it’s side, you weren’t sure what to expect. But if there’s one thing you’ve learned about human rides, it’s that they need bars in front of you.

“Excuse me? What about a lap bar?”

“This ride doesn’t have one.”

“Not even a belt?”

“Nope.”

“What do I do if I can’t hold on?”

“Just hold on tight.” As soon as he says this, the ride starts. It just spins around at first, and that isn’t so bad. At least, not until the ride starts to bounce as well. The first one has you falling out of your seat and onto the floor.

Taehyung grabs your hand, having expected this to happen, “I told you to hold on!” He pulls you back into the seat next to him and you grab onto the bar once again. The blonde tries to let go, but you reach for his shirt and hold it like you could actually die if you fell again. He laughs, “You’re not supposed to hold onto me!”

“If I’m going down then so are you!” You yell, gripping the bar behind you and hoping for the ride to be over soon.

Every bump has you edging closer and closer to the moon god and it’s a miracle you aren’t sitting in his lap by the end of the ride. As soon as it stops, you’re finally able to catch your breath. You find yourself praying to Hui, hoping he’ll hear your plea and switch your job with Yoongi’s.

Taehyung, however, is trying not to freak out at your close proximity to him. You’re holding onto his jacket like the kitten he’d visited at the pet store, like falling is only inevitable if you let go of him. Your head is resting under his chin, the hand holding onto your top being the only thing to stop you from hitting him.

“Are you still okay?” He asks.

You pull away slowly, unbothered by how close the two of you had been due to your fear of dying on a human toy, “Fortunately.”

“How about we go on the last ride now?” Taehyung suggests, exchanging the hand he holds you with to take the elbow closest to him.

You don’t bother hiding the frown on your face, “Do we have to?”

“I think you’ll like this one.”

The blonde helps you off of the ride and lets you cling to his arm all the way to the other side of the park where your last ride awaits. Another circular ride, only this one has cars similar to the rolling death trap he’d locked you into only 4 rides into your experience.

You stop in the middle of the walkway, pulling Taehyung back and causing the humans to move around you, “You want me to go on the spinning death wheel? Two in a row?!”

“It’s not what you think.” You give Taehyung a look and he rolls his eyes, “Come on.”

You let him take you through the line, deciding to lift yourself up for the ride instead of letting the fear you have tear you apart. Even as you’re let on the ride and once again locked in next to Taehyung you’re trying to decide if fleeing to the other side of the planet is worth blowing your cover.

“Are you okay?” The worker settling your bar in place asks.

You offer him a weak nod, “Yeah… I’m fine.”

He hands you a small, blue plastic bag with a ring holding it open and smiles, “Just in case then.”

He goes to start the ride and you’re left confused, “What’s this for?”

“How should I know?”

The ride lurches and you grab on tight to the bar, finding yourself going backward a few feet and stopping.

“Just calm down.” Taehyung coos. He places his hand over yours and rubs his thumb over the back of it, “You worry too much.”

Your eyes are locked on his hand over yours, “Why are you doing that?”

“To comfort you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re freaking out.”

“Oh…”

“I can stop if you want.” Taehyung starts to let go, but the ride moves again and you grab onto his hand yourself.

“No!” You cry. Taehyung can’t help but laugh at how different you are in this moment, and you try your best to brush it off, “Just until we get off. That way if this monstrosity breaks you have no choice but to go to.”

Taehyung smiles knowingly, “Whatever makes you feel better.”

You cling to Taehyung as the ride continues to stop and go, squeezing his hand on the occasional tilt the car makes. It isn’t until the ride - starts to actually spin continuously that you really begin to enjoy the ride itself. You somehow manage to actually like this ride, so much so that you convince the ride attendant to let you go around again. Taehyung has no complaints, especially if you’re going to smile the whole time.

You come to a stop near the top and the blonde turns to you, “So, are you enjoying yourself?” He asks with a teasing smile.

You, however, couldn’t care less if you were wrong or not at this moment. Up in the air looking down at the colorful lights of the other rides, you feel free. You have no responsibilities up here. You exist peacefully and happily without any problems holding you back.

You’re no one.

“I’ll give you this, Moon god, this ride is nice.” You lean back in the car, letting your body rest into Taehyung’s, “I think I can understand this.”

“Not the others?” He asks, teasing more than genuine curiosity.

You shrug, “Humans are strange. If they have natural Death wishes then so be it, but I suppose that the thrill could have some appeal to the right people.”

Taehyung sighs and let’s go of your hand, using his arm to wrap around your shoulders, “I was hoping you'd see things my way.”

You smile and poke his nose the way he’d done to you the other day, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Taehyung. We’re not there yet.”

“Yet~” He says with an air of hope.

“We’ll see how you play your cards.” You say. For now, you intend to enjoy the moment while it’s still here.

---

“So, what are we doing here?” You ask.

Taehyung had told you today would be even better than yesterday before the two of you parted last night - and with how terrible those rides had been it should be pretty easy to make a good impression. Anything would be better than getting on those traps again.

“We’re shopping!” He says excitedly, but his enthusiasm has you confused.

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun?”

“But you don’t need to buy things.” You remind him, “You’re a deity. You can make whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but this feels more human.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “Why would you want to feel human?”

He sighs - he won’t get anywhere when you’re like this, “Why don’t I just show you and then you can ask questions?”

You move to the side and extend your hand, presenting the way for him, “Lead the way.”

He takes your outstretched hand and leads you down the sidewalk, walking in front of you with your connected hands behind his back to lead you through the crowd. You begrudgingly walk behind him, looking at the shop windows as you pass.

“This way!” Taehyung squeezes your hand and pulls you to the left, and you unconsciously squeeze back and follow him. He takes you to the entrance of a store with it’s door wide open, a rack full of children’s clothes keeping the door from closing.

The store itself is filled with nothing but clothes of all types and various accessories scattered across the shop. Young women cling together as they scan the racks and some show off their finds near the back. An older gentleman and a boy who looks to be his son stick to the men’s section to the right of the store, the son shaking his head here and there when his father shows him a new item.

Taehyung immediately takes off for the women’s section without you and you’re not really sure why he’s the excited one. You follow him anyways, arms crossed and so far highly unimpressed with his first pick of the day.

“Trying to relive the old days?” You jest as the blonde sifts through the rack.

“Nope.” He says, choosing to ignore you in favor of looking through the clothes. He keeps going for a few seconds until he finds something he deems worthy enough, “Here it is!”

You half expected him to pull out a dress, but you’re surprised when he pulls out a shirt very similar to his. You double take and realize that it is the same shirt before you’re back to being unimpressed, “What is that?”

“A shirt.”

You’re offended that he would think you’re that incompetant, “I know it’s a shirt! Why would I want it?”

“So we can match!” He shakes the shirt out of excitement and almost drops it when he spots something else, “Look! They even have cute little scrunches!” He picks one up, a little, blue hair piece with yellow crescents all over it.

“You mean like this?” You ask, placing your palms flat as if they’re against a table and lifting, flipping them over to reveal the same bow, “Something I can make?”

Taehyung feels deflated and he doesn’t say anything right away. You’re a very to-the-point person, and he knows there’s only one way he can really get through to you.

“Could I see that for a second?” Taehyung asks, pointing to the scrunchie in your hand. You look down at it and shrug, handing it over to him without a second thought. He smiles, “Thanks.”

He takes both your scrunchie and the scrunchie he had picked up and chucks from across the store, one landing on a rack and the other in someone’s hair. You’re stunned by the fact that he - of all people - would even consider such a thing, “Taehyung-!”

Taehyung smiles - as if he hadn’t just done anything wrong - and places his empty hand on your shoulder, “New plan. You don’t get to say no to this.” He turns you around by the shoulder and nudges you in the direction of the exit, “Come on.”

You groan as he leads you to the register. Yesterday was fine, but if this is how the rest of today is going to go, then you want it to end now.

Taehyung stops in front of the register and places both the shirt and the scrunchie in front of the attendant, “We’ll take these, please.”

“Oh! Matching shirts! The both of you are going to look so cute! Here-” The girl scans the shirt, grabs a number placard, and hands both of them to you, “You can use our changing room to put it on before you leave.”

“No, that’s o-” You were perfectly happy denying her help, but the kicked puppy look Taehyung is giving you has you back peddling. You muster the most sincere smile you can, “Yes. Thank you. I appreciate the offer.”

You leave Taehyung to pay the human, begrudgingly walking to the fitting rooms she had so kindly offered you. This was not your idea of fun. This is an unnecessary waste of your time. Why anyone would willingly waste their day just to change clothes you don’t think you’ll ever understand.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you can at least appreciate the color. It’s simple enough that you don’t have to worry about standing out. But standing next to Taehyung wearing matching shirts isn’t going to help you any.

“(Y/n)? Are you done?” Taehyung asks, his voice echoing from the other side of the door. You sigh, relenting to a fate of your own and open the door, the shirt you were wearing hanging over your arm.

“Well?” You ask. The blonde takes a step back from the door, eyeing you up and down.

“Wow…” His smile is so wide you’d think the action hurts. He looks like a child seeing snow for the first time. He's so excited. His beaming smile - as well as the giggling girls standing in front of the room next to you - has you feeling hot with embarrassment.

You shuffle forward and cross your arms, “Are you happy now?”

“Very.” He assures you. He knew you were pretty, but you just look so cute when you’re all flustered. It’s nice to see you finally being the one grasping for straws. “Come on, we have a lot to do.”

---

“Food?” You ask, eyeing the numerous stalls that line the street in front of you.

Taehyung nods, “You’ve only had a diet of shrimp chips and strawberry milk. I think it’s time you branch out.”

He leads you to the first stall and points to a tray before he hands the man money in exchange for two sticks with something skewered to them. He hands one to you, and you’re left staring at the item in your hand, “And this is?”

“Food. Eat it.” You’re unsure at first, but you agreed(forcefully agreed) to do whatever Taehyung decided to do for the day. You take a hesitant bite, but one bite is all it took to understand. Taehyung must be able to tell by whatever expression you’re making, “Good, isn’t it?”

You turn to the vendor with your mouth still somewhat full, “Can we get 2 more, please?”

He nods and gets you two more, but Taehyung is quick to take them out of his hands before you can. “Don’t fill up! We have a whole street to go through.” He gestures to the other stalls around you, and for once you’re actually excited to listen to the mischievous god.

It takes you almost 2 hours just to get back to where you started, and you’re sure you’d be on the ground if you were a human. You have to give Taehyung credit where it’s due, this was a great idea.

“What’s next?” You ask, turning to Taehyung with a bit more hope for the future.

He shrugs, “I guess we could go around for seconds but that might scare the humans.”

You frown, realizing how reckless you’ve been, “I guess you’re right.”

Your change in demeanor throws Taehyung for a loop. This isn’t the first time you’ve dismissed him - or anything - like this. He knows you’re reluctant to tell him, so he thinks of something that’ll get your attention, “Let’s look at what trinkets are being sold.”

“Trinkets?” You ask curiously.

“Like the things Jimin sells in the gift shop.”

“Merchandise?”

He shrugs, “Sure.”

Taehyung leads you back down the street, passing several food stalls before he reaches a jewelry stand that might catch your attention. He takes a quick look over the items on display before he finds one you might actually enjoy.

He turns around and pulls you closer to the stand, pointing to the simple, silver necklace with a glittering ball charm, “What do you think about this?”

You shrug, “It’s no soulmate necklace, but I guess it’s nice.” Taehyung seems disappointed by your response so you take a closer look. It’s nice in theory, pretty and sparkling. You’d have to guess anyone would enjoy something like this. “The charm is shiny.”

“Well, yeah. It’s supposed to be.” You give him a look, and he chuckles. He gets the vendor’s attention and waves them over, “How much is this?”

“5.”

Taehyung pulls out some money and hands it over, “Here you go.”

You watch him as he puts the money away, “Why’d you buy it?”

“The little things! Now, turn around.” You give in and turn around, waiting for the inevitable push forward to come. But instead, Taehyung’s hands come down over your head and with one end of the necklace in each hand, “There. Now you look even better.”

“Oh? So I was ugly before?” You ask, turning around to face the Moon god with a teasing smile.

Taehyung’s eyes widen, “What? No! That’s not what I meant! You’re beautiful, I just-” He finds it hard to come up with the right words to say, “-I just think this compliments your look.”

“Thank you.” You say, feeling the heat in your cheeks. You’re also at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond. You’ve never been complimented by someone, “Um-...What else did you want to do today?”

Taehyung looks at his watch and sighs, “It’s not time for us to go to our next surprise, so I guess we’ll have to be spontaneous.”

“Spontaneous? What a big word, I’m impressed.” You tease, earning a glare from the blonde. You sigh, “Fine. I’m sorry. Lead the way.”

The two of you were able to find a park. At least this one wasn’t full of death traps like the other had been. This one only had slides, a merry-go-round, swings, and rocking horses. Of course, you were skeptical at first, but Taehyung’s judgement had proved to be good enough. It was simple enough, and far less terrifying than the amusement park. He was right when he said it’d buy you some time, because the two of you spent quite a bit of time enjoying the playsets made for human children until you finally had to leave for your next surprise.

“Next!” The attendant calls out before the family in front of you even moves. Taehyung leads the way around them to the counter, and you follow behind him like you have all day. The human teenager seems less than enthused to be stuck in a box, “For two?”

Taehyung nods, “Yes. We’d like the 7:30 showing of Save Me.”

The boy tells him the price and holds out his hand, accepting the money Taehyung gives him and handing back two tickets in return, “Enjoy the show. Next!”

“I think we just found Yoongi’s twin.” Taehyung says, more to himself than to you, but it has you bursting into laughter. The blonde opens the door for you, amused by your reaction, “Oh, so you do think I’m funny?”

“No!” You stop and wait for him to catch up with you before you relent, “Okay, so maybe you can be funny, but it’s not a common thing for you.”

He scoffs, “Uhuh, sure. Let’s just get some snacks.”

“Comfort food?”

“As much as we can handle.”

And he stays true to that. The two of you put the poor girl behind the snack counter through the ringer with the amount of candies you buy. The tray to hold your hot food is so packed that you have to carry the popcorn and two of the boxes you bought so it all could fit! The humans that you pass on your way to your movie send you judgemental looks, but if you were them, then you probably would too.

Taehyung leads the way to a small, two-seat balcony section over the theater’s entrance, the first row so you don’t have to hold your tray throughout the movie. You both get settled while videos play on the screen - something that the human’s call previews. Taehyung picks up the hot food he had bought first to eat, and you have no complaints eating them while you wait for your movie to start.

When the lights do finally dim and the crowd in the theater begins to hush, you can’t help but turn to Taehyung, “This isn’t going to be scary, is it?”

“Can I be honest with you?” He asks. You nod, “I have no clue.”

---

Thankfully for you, the movie had not been scary. There were some parts that had you jump from the sudden action, but nothing terrible. It was entertaining for something made in the eyes of a human.

“How clever are humans to paint Fate so well? I’m actually impressed with their interpretation!” You rave as you leave the theater.

Your smile is radiant and Taehyung can feel himself relax, “So, does that mean you liked the movie?” He asks.

“It was enjoyable,” You agree. You can’t deny that seeing your job portrayed correctly has taken you off guard. Not only that, but it’s amusing to think that humans understand your duties better than the deity in front of you. “Though, I’m confused as to why Fate was a talking house cat.”

He shrugs, “Humans are innovative. Their creativity doesn’t have any bounds.”

“I suppose you could say that.” The both of you walk around the corner of the building to the alley, out of eyesight from the humans, “Same time tomorrow?” You ask.

Taehyung nods, “Yeah. Wear sneakers.”

“Sure thing. I’ll see you later.” You look around before you disappear, leaving Taehyung to stare at the empty space where you stood.

This is only your second day out and it feels like an eternity. But the feeling isn’t bad at all. Neither of you have really pushed at the other like you normally do and it’s weird. It’s like that line of friend and enemy has been crossed and you don’t have to be Fate or Moon God.

You’re just (Y/n) and Taehyung.

Both you and Taehyung walk down the street, fairly close to the museum. He’d taken you for a late morning-early afternoon bike ride through the park a few blocks over. Taehyung himself has always found bikes to be a bit more exciting than cars, enjoying the feeling of flying through the air and seeing nature’s colors without a shield.

You sigh, “I’ve never realized just how beautiful trees can be.” You’ve never spent much time on Earth - even in the past few weeks that you’ve spent babysitting. But today you both spent a good hour or so just riding around the park - you even biked the path next to the river. Of course, like everything else, it took a moment for you to really get into everything, but today has been the fastest you’ve given in and felt something other than indifference. Not only did you relax, but Taehyung was able to as well.

“It’s a lot nicer when you can feel the wind through your hair. It makes it feel more magical.” Taehyung agrees. He’d never say it outloud, but this version of you has really captured his attention. He’s barely even thought about worrying over Namjoon and Eunha. There’s just something about the time you’ve spent together that just feels right now.

“I guess it does.”

Taehyung smiles and jogs in front of you, stopping in front of a restaurant, pulling open the door, and offering you a deep bow, “Madame~”

You attempt to bite back a smile and give a small nod back, “Thank you.”

Walking into the cozy little restaurant, you are quickly greeted by the middle aged woman at the counter, “Welcome!”

She’s turned around, so she doesn’t see who’s entered, but Taehyung walks up to the counter and greets her back, “Good afternoon, Yuna!”

Yuna turns around and coos when she confirms it’s Taehyung, “Taehyung!” He waves back at her and she nods, turning back around and tapping the window cut into the wall, “Mom! One of your regulars is here.”

“Who is it?” You hear her before you see her, the door to the kitchen opening to reveal Ms. Oh with her hair tucked away in a hair net. She scans her restaurant and a smile breaks out on her face when she sees Taehyung standing at her counter, “Oh! Taehyung, my handsome boy! Give me a hug.” Ms. Oh all but runs around her front counter and holds out her arms, Taehyung wrapping his arms over the elder woman. She squeezes him tight and sways him back and forth, pulling away to look over his shoulder, “Where’s Hoseok and Jimin?”

He shrugs, “They’re working today.”

“Oh, I see...” She nods in understanding. Turning her attention to you, her eyes going back and forth between you and Taehyung before something seems to click in her brain and any confusion she had turns into mischief, “And who’s this lovely lady~?”

You smile, “(Y/n), it’s nice to meet you.”

“We’re here on a date.” Taehyung adds, a mischievous smile of his own.

Ms. Oh gasps, “A date?!” Taehyung nods and poor Ms. Oh looks like she’s going to have a fit. She turns Taehyung around and pushes him towards you, the deity grabbing onto your shoulders to steady himself, “Oh, you sit down and stop talking to a little old lady like me. You have this beautiful young woman next to you and you’re going to waste time talking to some prune?!”

Taehyung adheres to her advice and starts to lead you to a table by the window, Ms. Oh following the two of you with a menu. He can’t stop himself from adding on as you sit down, “Her beauty is only second to yours, Ms. Oh~”

“You’re not getting a discount. Sit.” She taps his shoulder with the menu and he complies, sitting down and accepting her menu with both hands.

She ruffles his hair and walks away, leaving you both amused and confused, “Well, she’s charming.”

“Ms. Oh is full of personality. Hoseok only comes here for her.” Taehyung laughs before adding on, “And her kimchi.”

The two order their food and continue to make small talk as they wait. It’s hard to miss Ms. Oh peeking over the order window, and Taehyung makes a show out of waving at her everytime he catches her. It’s no surprise when she personally delivers their food to them.

��Here we are~ I expect this food to be all gone before you leave, do you understand?” She gives both of you an expectant look.

Taehyung nods, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now-” She grabs a chair from a nearby table, pulls it over, and sits down, “-how did the two of you meet?”

“(Y/n) is actually the owner of the museum.” Taehyung explains, taking a bite of his food.

This seems to impress Ms. Oh, “She is?!” She looks to you for confirmation and you do with a hand covering your mouth. She leans back in her seat with a small, seemingly knowing smile, “Wow, so you’re really hitting it off with the boss~”

You choke on your food and Taehyung chuckles, “You could say that.”

Ms. Oh sighs, “I understand. I was hitting it off with the boss’ son back in my day. It got me this restaurant!”

“Mom! Leave that poor couple alone!” Yuna scolds from across the room.

You wave your hands before you speak up, “No, she’s fine!”

She smiles at you and Taehyung continues the conversation, “So, you took over your husband’s family business?”

“I’m afraid it wasn’t until after he died that I took over, but we did run it together for 45 years.” Ms. Oh looks out the window, most likely reminiscing on old days when her husband was alive and well. You give Taehyung a small kick under the table for bringing up a sensitive topic, and his hiss of pain has Ms. Oh breaking out of her thoughts. She must catch onto what happened, because she puts her hand over yours and laughs, “You sweet thing! Your friend Hoseok reminds me of him when he stops by. He likes my kimchi almost as much as my Changbin did.”

Even with a smile, you can still tell how much pain she went through, “I am so sorry for your loss.”

She sighs, “It was a while ago. That wound has closed over now.”

“Still-...those 45 years must have been wonderful.” Taehyung adds, offering a warm smile.

“I cherish every single moment and memory. I keep my most important one’s close to me.” Ms. Oh looks over to where Yuna hands over a delivery order.

“Is Yuna your only child?” You ask.

She squeezes your hand, “My eldest - Hanbin - died in the car accident with his father. Soobin hasn’t spoken to me since he graduated high school.”

“I’m so sorry…” You’re at a loss for words. Comforting humans - comforting others - is not something you’re used to.

“That’s Fate for you.” She shrugs, unbeknownst to her that she’s holding Fate’s hand. Your eyes widen and you look to Taehyung for help, but he’s keeping his head down. Thankfully, Ms. Oh’s determination and free spirit can’t be stopped by something as trivial as strings, “But Fate has brought me wonderful customers such as yourself.”

You smile, “Thank you.”

“And besides, I get plenty of handsome young men coming into my store everyday. Fate blessed me there.” She looks at Taehyung with another bright smile, but you’re no longer as happy as you were, “Oh, look-! I’ve dampened the mood.” Ms. Oh stands up and puts her chair back where it belongs, “The two of you eat up and enjoy each other’s company. Make the most of it.”

“Thank you.” Taehyung gives her a small bow before she walks back to her kitchen, leaving you to sit and think about this nice human who’s had everything cut short by her own family’s strings.

Your strings.

Taehyung sets his head on the table where your eyes stare at nothing, “You okay?”

You meet his eyes and look past him to watch Ms. Oh hug her daughter, “She’s so happy...yet she’s had so much taken from her.”

Taehyung shrugs, “You haven’t been kind to her.”

You nod in agreement, “I wish I could have been.”

---

After lunch with Ms. Oh, you had to make a quick stop by the museum. You didn’t say what you had to get, but Taehyung was happy to wait for you by the front doors. He made good conversation with Jin, even found out a bit more about the man’s many, many failed relationships. Thankfully, you were back within a few minutes, and the two of you still managed to make it to the mall and window shop before you were called away by the council.

Council meetings always come on like cold chills, and it was hard to miss with how violently your body shook. He could tell you were reluctant to go, especially if he wasn’t going with you. But he let you go, assuring you that the outing for tomorrow would need rest anyway.

Now, he stands in front of his apartment door fiddling with the keys to enter his apartment the correct way for the first time in days.

“Hey, I’m ho-Oh!” Taehyung stumbles back, throwing a hand over his eyes. Jimin takes up the couch, sharing his “time” with someone he can’t see, “Sorry…”

Jimin stands up and sighs, fixing his shirt, “It’s okay. Nothing we can’t get back to.” Jeongguk sits up with his brown mop tousled and bruises all over his neck and chin - As surprised as Taehyung is, he really shouldn’t be. Jimin sits back down and crosses his arms, “I see you’re still alive. I wasn’t sure when you didn’t come barging into my room.”

“Yesterday and today went great!” He explains. He begins to take off his shoes, “I took her to an amusement park the first day - and that probably wasn’t my best decision - she really didn’t like a lot of the rides, but she actually relaxed for once! And then today! I took her shopping and we got matching shirts, and we ate tons of food, and I even bought her this cute little necklace. SHe actually liked it. And we-!”

Jimin holds up his hands, “Woah, woah, woah! Hold on! Slow down for a minute.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re starting to sound like you like her.”

Taehyung shrugs, “So? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No! If you like her then she can use you!” Jimin hits the coffee table with his hand and stands from the couch, “I should’ve known this would happen.”

Taehyung tilts his head in confusion, “What would happen?”

“You!” Jimin yells, “You’re too soft! Too good. If you keep going like this then she’ll only stab you in the back.”

“I’m just getting to know her!”Taehyung defends, “She’s actually not that bad once you find common ground. She actually does this cute little thing with her nose when she’s scared-”

Jimin crosses the room and grabs Taehyung by the front of his shirt, “-Stop it! Listen to yourself! Friends shouldn’t be cute to you!”

“I think you’re overreacting, Jimin.” Jeongguk pipes up from the couch.

JImin turns around with a glare, “Stay out of this, Kookie!”

Taehyung takes this opportunity to push Jimin’s hands off of him, “I’m just trying to get her on our side.”

“Yeah? Well, don’t forget who dropped everything to help you in the first place.” The blond reminds him.

Taehyung is stunned for a minute, “You could’ve said no.” He’s never shown distaste since the first day he agreed to help him. He’s only used every opportunity to reinvent this new version of him. If Jimin was unhappy, then he had ample opportunity to tell him.

“A good friend would help you!”

“Then why are you so angry?!”

“Because you’re letting Fate blind you!” Jimin pushes against Taehyung’s chest and the Moon god stumbles back into the wall behind him, “You’re letting her get into your head, and before you know it everything we’ve worked for will be for nothing-!”

“-You’re wrong!” Taehyung yells, pushing back against him in retaliation, “You don’t know that!”

Jeongguk tries to grab JImin in hopes of reeling him in, but the Earth god throws his arms out to the side, “She doesn’t care, Taehyung! She doesn’t care about the humans and she doesn’t care about you!”

“Then stay out of it!” Taehyung turns his back to his friend and returns to the door where his shoes are.

“Where are you going?” Jimin asks, still very angry.

Taehyung picks up his shoes and shrugs, “If you won’t help with my plan then I won’t force you.”

“Taehyung wait-!” Jeongguk tried, but the Moon couldn’t care less. He’s been around people that don’t want to be near him long enough to understand when he should just go.

He finds himself by the river again. Not even 12 hours ago he was here with you and he was smiling and happy and free and now it’s tainted. He can feel his own rays of light shining down to give him warmth, but it’s for nothing. He doesn’t feel it.

At a moment like this, he just wants to feel something.

You’d like to feel less.

Council meetings have never been anyone’s favorite. It’s very rare that every deity is required to attend, and it’s tasked upon the High 6 to meet regularly to maintain balance. You’ve done it since the beginning of the universe and you doubt it wil stop until the very end. The only thing worse than a regular meeting and a full meeting, is a meeting called to discuss the Pillars of Balance.

These meetings are never in your favor.

“Have the 3 of you forgotten how your jobs work?” Seowoo - the Cosmos asks, annoyance dripping from her tongue.

You, Yoongi, and Hoseok stand before the other 3, holding your ground together as they all stare you down. Seowoo is almost livid, while Juhyun looks like he doesn’t care either way. Hui - as always - is almost impossible to read.

“It’s not like we haven’t been trying. You try spending 6 days straight with Taehyung and see if you can tolerate him enough.”

Juhyun sighs, “Why don’t we just strip his powers away? Won’t that fix the problem?” He doesn’t even attempt to hide his boredom.

Seowoo shakes her head, “He needs to be stripped of his powers! We warned him the first time and look where that got us!”

You absolutely disagree, “Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?” You ask.

She scoffs, “You’re the reason we’re in this position in the first place!”

“Excuse me?”

“We should have taken his powers away years ago, but you just had to baby him!”

You’re offended, “Because it was his first offense and I thought he learned his lesson! You’re the ones that didn’t try to understand him!” You’ve never once shown special treatment to anyone. You definitely aren’t now.

“Oh, I understand him alright. He’s a menace, and you’ve only encouraged his behavior!”

“I tried to do what was best for him!” You argue.

Juhyun pipes up, “What about what’s best for everyone else?”

He makes a valid point, but you know that taking the powers away really won’t be helping anyone, “He’s lonely on his planet. Taking away his ability to visit others won’t fix that.”

“Maybe he’d stop trying to do everyone’s job…” Seowoo mumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and sitting back in her chair.

“This is just a rough patch for him.” You explain. You know Taehyung, and as much as he thinks you’re changing, he’s changing just as much. “He needs to see that this isn’t going to go the way he wants and he’ll stop!”

“Or he’ll do it all over again!” Seowoo argues, completely exasperated.

Juhyun looks to Hoseok and Yoongi on either side of you for some kind of helpful input, “Are the two of you listening to this?”

Hoseok nods, “We stand behind (Y/n)’s decisions.”

Seowoo groans in annoyance and turns to the only other person who can do anything, “Hui, talk some sense into them. Into her.”

“(Y/n)-” He stands from his chair and leaves his platform, extending his arm to you, “Come with me.”

You ignore the pleased smile on Seowoo’s face and take his arm, allowing him to lead you away from the enclosed room. He takes you to a small balcony just off the room, a curtain being the only door between you and the others. The balcony has a beautiful view of the galaxy, showcasing twinkling stars and distant planets. You try to enjoy it, but your nerves are too on edge.

Hui joins you, resting his arms on the railing, “Have you been alright?”

This takes you by surprise, “Of course! What kind of question is that?” You ask.

“You’ve been acting differently for quite some time now.” He explains, “I’d say since Taehyung first started causing trouble.”

You shake your head, “I think you’re wrong. I’m the same person I’ve always been.”

He turns his head to look at you, “I don’t believe you are.”

You sigh, “Look, Seowoo has always been dramatic. I promise you that I am taking this situation seriously.”

“When Jimin severed the humans from their soulmates, you nearly ended his entire career. You didn’t give Taehyung that treatment.” He’s not wrong, but Jimin’s situation was so much different from Taehyung’s.

“Taehyung messed with the fate of 2 individuals, not an entire population...” You remind him.

Hui looks down and back up, sighing, “What are you trying to achieve?”

“Taehyung doesn’t understand. I’m trying to help him come to terms with their future, but it’s just taking a little longer.”

Hui laughs, “He’s a moon. He doesn’t understand, and it’s very likely he never will. He’s not like you.”

“Taehyung has never had anyone call out to him for help.” You explain, “He’s only insistent on doing this because Namjoon came to him and now he feels responsible!”

“So, that’s what’s wrong with him…” The Universe seems to understand.

“I thought after what happened the first time, he would have understood. That he would have given up on something that was so doomed from the start, but he’s determined.” In a way, you really feel for Taehyung. He’s doing what he thinks is right, but his determination is only causing more pain than good. “I’m just trying to help him.”

“I think you and I both know that helping him is no way to help him.”

“I’m hoping to lessen his pain! We stripped Jimin of his powers and now look at him!” After stripping him of his powers, the Earth god became so much more human-like than anyone could have anticipated. He found other ways to play with humans and make them praise him, and his resentment has yet to fully diminish.

Hui tilts his head in confusion, “We?”

You heave a heavy sigh, “I.”

Hui shrugs, “I thought you said he deserved it? You thought it was best.”

“Well I was wrong!” You admit, slapping your hand against the cool marble railing. Watching Jimin over the years try to assimilate has always made you feel terrible. No matter how justified your actions may have been, watching him has always felt wrong, “Let me make this right.”

He sighs, “You know, Fate has no use for Hope.”

You laugh, “Some omnipotent being I am…”

Hui shrugs, “You can’t help that you’ve fallen in love.”

His words have you whipping your head faster than the speed of light, “What?”

“You can’t help that yo-”

“No. I heard you the first time.” You assure him. You heard him loud and clear and he could not be more wrong, “I’m not in love with Taehyung.”

He smiles knowingly, “I never said it was Taehyung.”

“But you implied it was!” He raises an eyebrow as if to challenge you, and you’re astonished. You can feel the heat rising on your cheeks and you find yourself stumbling over your words, “I am not in- In love with Taehyung! He’s a thorn in my side!”

He chuckles and turns his attention to the view in front of you, “You’re lucky.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your job brings you close to humans. You get to experience their emotions far more than the rest of us.” He explains, his gaze locked on the inhabited planet.

You’re completely confused, “Is there a point you’re trying to make? Gods have no use for emotions.”

“Is that so?” He asks. He turns his head to you with a mischievous smile, “Or is that just what we decided was best?”

You pout, “We’ve already seen what human emotions can do to us 1 too many times…”

“And we’ve learned.” He agrees, “Why don’t you give it a shot?”

You shake your head, “How is an emotion like love supposed to help me right now?”

“Let me ask you this: Are you doing this to give Taehyung a second chance? Or is this your 4th?” He asks.

It’s been far too long since you were first created as the Goddess of Fate. In that time, you’ve learned the in’s and out’s of what it takes. Most importantly, you’ve experienced most of your rules first hand. It’s been so long and pushed so far out of your mind, that even you forget about your own shortcomings.

“You’ve made mistakes and you have regrets. You’re not perfect.”

You scoff, thinking of Seowoo, “Perfect is apparently a part of the job...”

Hui sighs and pushes away from the railing, “I’ll tell the other’s that this situation is no longer any of our business and you, Yoongi, and Hoseok will make everything right, just as you always do. But do me a favor and remember what we’ve talked about.”

He walks away, leaving you on the balcony by yourself to think. He’s always such a strange character, and sometimes he’s almost unconventional. He should be a God of Mischief instead of your Universe. But he does leave you with many things to mull over.

Are you projecting your own past regrets onto Taehyung without even realizing it? Are you hoping that by fixing Taehyung, you’ll feel better about all of your past mistakes? Do you really see him as just an acquaintance, or are you actually in love with him? It doesn’t make sense to you. There are many reasons to treat him differently.

You can’t be in love with Taehyung.

You feel a tug on your finger, and it’s very light at first, but it soon gets harder and more urgent. This usually means that someone is doing something they shouldn’t, and if the track records are anything to go off of then the Moon god is the one to blame.

You quickly make the travel from Star 13 to Earth, following your strings to the mischievous god. You’re not surprised to see him flinging rocks into the river, nor are you surprised to see the overturned trash cans and benches along the path to him. Taehyung has always been emotional, and he tends to go overboard when he gets upset. You fix most of his mess and hurry to stop him, hoping to get to him before someone calls the human authorities on him.

“You know-” Taehyung stops mid-throw, “there are easier ways to contact me.”

He’s surprised - and he really shouldn’t be. He knew if he caused a big enough scene then you’d have no choice but to come and see what he was up to. A part of him knew exactly what he was doing, but his irrational side would never let him admit it.

Taehyung lets his arm fall to his side and he lightly tosses the last rock into the water, “When have I ever used a normal means?”

You shrug, “I suppose I should’ve expected something like this.”

Neither of you are sure what to say after that. Taehyung is fighting an inner battle with himself, unsure if he actually wants your help or regrets trying in the first place. And you’re still reeling from the conversation with hUi and what exactly it is that you’re feeling. But either way, you are there and Taehyung does need help.

“So-” You start, coming up next to him and sitting in the grass, “What’s bothering you?”

“Why do you think something’s bothering me?” “Okay, so, maybe something is bothering me.”

“Wanna talk about it?” “You ask, patting the spot next to you, “I promise I’ll try my best to not-...” You hesitate, “-be so me.”

“You aren’t the problem,” Taehyung sighs, “Well-” He sits down cross-legged next to you, “-you are, but you aren’t.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I know, just bare with me.”

“Okay.”

Taehyung sighs, “Jimin and I got into a fight over the deal you and I made.”

“Why?” You ask.

“He doesn’t think you can change.” He admits.

Knowing your relationship with Jimin, you really can’t blame him for thinking that way, “I guess to someone like Jimin, that would make the most sense. I’ve never really been easy on him.”

“Yeah, but that’s biased!”

“Are you saying you aren’t biased?” You ask. Taehyung opens his mouth, but words don’t come out. You place a hand on his shoulder, “Jimin has his reasons.”

Taehyung sighs and looks to his lap, “I know, that’s what scares me…”

“Well, you kn-Oh!” You feel something cold at your feet and stand up. The water of the river has risen, slowly coming closer to you, “We should move back. The water is really coming in.” You take a few steps back, but Taehyung stays in his spot, “Taehyung?”

The moon god just lays back and looks to the sky where his planet shines bright, “Most of Jimin’s planet is made up of water. I’ve always loved it’s color and how beautiful it looks from my planet. I guess I’m just attracted to it.”

“It’s normal to be attracted to beautiful things.” You rationalize.

Taehyung tilts his head back to look at you, “Did you know that humans are 70% water?” He asks. You shake your head and he positions his so that he can see his planet again. “I think I have an obsession.”

“No.” You move to sit just above his head in the grass and lean over him ever so slightly, making sure the god can see you, “I think you have feelings.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “Is that really any better? Gods aren’t supposed to have feelings.”

His point is exactly what you had said to Hui, but the Universe had made some fair points as well, “Then why do we have them?”

“We?” Taehyung questions.

“You heard me. We all have them, even Hui and Yoongi do! Why would we have feelings if we aren’t supposed to have them?” You ask. Taehyung looks confused. He reaches his hand up and rests it at your cheek, holding it there for a moment before pinching it between his fingers “Ow!”

You slap his hand and he pulls it away, “Sorry, I just had to make sure you aren’t from Planet 181.” You give him a hard glare and he holds his hands in front of his chest, “It’s just weird that you’re being so positive and-...supportive.” You’re not usually a very supportive person. Of course, he’s been able to see a new side of you these past few days, but it’s still so new. It starts to make him think something else is going on.

He sits up and scoots himself back so he can sit next to you, “Did something happen with the council?”

“They-uh…” It’s hard to meet his eyes. You can only think back to what Hui had said about your own feelings in this moment, and you have to remind yourself that this needs to be a professional moment. You decide to tell him the better news. “Hui is leaving the situation in my hands. They’re going to stay out of it from now on.”

“I honestly can’t tell if that’s good news for me or not.” He jokes. You shake your head, but you find it hard to be mad at him. Over the past few days, you’ve really seen a change in him, and you’d be lying if you said you haven’t noticed your own changes. Maybe you can both win at the end of this.

“Maybe it can be good.” He tilts his head in confusion and you sigh, “I will try to help you from here on out.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen in surprise, “Really?! But we still have one more day!”

“And you can still show me whatever you have left. I just-” You look for the right words to say. You don’t want to give him false hope, but there are ways to trick Fate. You just can’t do it alone, “Maybe there is something more I can do.”

“Really?!” You nod, “Oh! Yes! Thank you!” Taehyung tackles you to the ground with a hug, “You’re amazing! I knew I could change your mind!”

“Yeah, yeah.” You awkwardly pat Taehyung on the back, “Just know I’ll do my best. Now, get off of me!”

Taehyung rolls off of you, but he’s not ready to let go. His hand finds yours and he intertwines your fingers with his, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He squeezes your hand, “Giving me a chance.”

“Fate isn’t very notorious for letting things just magically fall into place,” You admit. You turn your head to look at him and smile, “But second chances can happen.”

“I promise not to let you down.” He says. He looks back to the sky and sighs, “I just hope Eunha and Namjoon get the opportunity to spend time like this.”

“Like this?” You ask, slightly confused.

“Together.”

He says it so innocently, that you’re unsure if he considers your relationship with him to be similar to theirs or if he enjoys the new dynamic the two of you have. He looks so at peace lying next to you, holding your hand and enjoying the view of his planet. His own rays bathe him in a healthy glow and you can feel a flutter in your chest. You can’t help but think of what he means to you.

Maybe you are in love with Taehyung.

Your weekend with Taehyung made you feel special and light, a bit more free than you’ve felt in a millennia. For once, you’ve haven’t worried over strings or worried about their pull. You only worried about yourself and you got to focus on what it’s like to step outside of the box. You got to be you, and now you’re one step closer to knowing how you feel about Taehyung.

But all good things must come to an end.

There’s a moment in time when a dam breaks that everything seems to slow down. It’s like gravity forgets to pull down and everything is left hanging in the air. Your stomach drops and life just seems to drain out of you knowing the inevitable is coming whether you want it to or not. That’s how it feels looking at your hands and following every last string to it’s end.

“Are you going to tell him?” Hoseok asks.

You shake your head, “No.” You want to more than anything, but you can’t let your feelings cloud your judgement. Even if you did, you know Taehyung’s would guide him, and that has never worked well for anyone in the past. “Telling him won’t help him.”

“But he’s going to be really angry with you when he finds out.” Hoseok - the sweet God he is - picked up on your changes a while ago. He figured out your feelings even before Hui did, and seeing your progress be disrupted by this has him on edge.

“I’ll deal with it when I get there.” You assure him. You can’t worry about the future when you really need to focus on the now, “Did you find him?”

He nods, “It took a while, but Yoongi managed.”

You nod in approval, “Good. Don’t be too hard on him.”

“That’s not fun, (Y/n).” He whines.

You wave him off, “Just take Yoongi and do what I tell you.”

“Fine, but you owe me.” He relents. He turns to leave, but he turns back with a sly smirk, “Maybe we should call you the love god.”

“Goodbye, Hoseok!”

He finally leaves, and you’re left with the possibilities ahead of you.

A happy ending isn’t written, it’s hardly even a good ending as far as humans would be concerned. The string knots and breaks every single time. It’s disappointing to say the least, especially after the promise you made to Taehyung. This will crush him just as much as it will crush Eunha to say goodbye, but you can’t let it continue on any longer. At this point, there’s nothing else you can do but wait for gravity to fall.

And fall it did.

Everything was fine. He was over the moon with the relationship he formed with you. Eunha seemed so happy after her break, especially after taking Namjoon with her. He’d hoped they bonded just like the two of you had. It seemed like all the strings were finally converging nicely, but he never thought something like this could happen.

He storms into your office without so much as a warning, “Did you know this would happen?!”

“Well, hello to you too.” You’re taken aback by his entrance, “Don’t worry, I wasn’t busy.”

“Did you know?” He asks again.

He’s angry, and there’s only two possible reasons why he’s behaving like this. But there’s only one way to be sure, “Did I know what?”

“Stop pretending like you don’t know!” He demands, “Eunha told Namjoon she wants to break the necklace.”

“So she chose that future…” You confirm. You look down at your hands, the faint glow of the strings illuminating them. There’s nothing you can do now, especially now that she’s already begun the process, “That’s her decision Taehyung, I don’t control her free will.”

“Can’t you change something?!” He asks.

“You should already know it’s not that simple.”

“How?! Every time you talk to me, you never talk to me!” He complains.

You’re confused, “What do you mean? I always talk to you.”

“No. You talk at me. There’s a difference.” He explains bitterly, “You don’t think I can handle the truth.”

You shrug, “Well, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Can you really?”

“Yes!”

“Well, it doesn’t seem like you can because you never seem to get it through your head!” You yell.

Taehyung scoffs, “And whose fault is that?”

“You think it’s mine?!”

“Well, it’s not for lack of communication on my part!”

“Bullshit!” You curse, “I’ve told you multiple, multiple, multiple times exactly what needed to be done and how things would play out and now it’s up to them and you never listen! You think I’m lying and that I’m working against you, but you don’t even understand how my job works!”

“Like looking at your hands is a big deal.”

“It’s a whole lot more than that and you know it!” Every time you think you’re past this argument, he always brings it back around, “I know you want them to be happy, and you want to keep your promise. I get that, but they can’t go on like this anymore. It’s only a matter of time before they break.”

Taehyung feels defeated. You had told him that you might be able to do something, but from where he’s standing you’re not making any effort at all. You’re just letting them both fall victim to their strings, and ignoring his pleas. It’s like you never really cared in the first place.

Of course, you want to do more, but there’s only so much one can do. Controlling Fate isn’t an option, “I really am sorry, Taehyung, but this is out of our hands.”

A scream rings out through the hallways and it catches the both of you off guard. To you, this is the beginning of the end. For Taehyung, this is his last and final chance.

You meet his eyes and you already know what he’s thinking, “There’s nothing you can do for them, Taehyung.”

“Watch me.”

He bolts, knocking a chair over in the process of running out the door. It catches you off guard, but you have far more tricks up your sleeve.

You travel to the main hall, just outside of the cafe, 10 feet in front of Taehyung who insists on running, “Taehyung, please stop and just listen to me for once.”

“I’m not just going to let this opportunity slip away!” He runs around you and you work fast to get in front of him again.

“Kim Taehyung! Don’t make me hold you down, because I will!” You threaten. You hold your hands out in front of you to block him, “You’re not thinking rationally! Stop behaving like a human!”

“Stop acting like a god!” He yells back, “You may be all-knowing, but you really don’t know as much as you think you do! They still have a small chance, and I’m not going to give up and let them slip through my fingers like you do!”

“Then you leave me no choice.”

You place your hands in front of you and pull them apart to reveal the strings that bind them together. You gently pull your pointer finger back, causing the string to tighten. Taehyung trips over it as another scream rings out through the museum.

He tries to get up, but you pull back again, “What are you doing?!” He yells.

“I’m trying to make this as painless as possible for everyone!” You explain, holding him tight in the chaos of your strings.

Another scream rings out and Taehyung struggles to break himself free, “Eunha needs me! Let me go!”

“You’ll just get hurt if I let you go, Taehyung!” You try to explain. You know how this ends, and you know how devastated he’ll be. You can’t do that to him. He’s been through enough, and this needs to end here and now before anyone else gets hurt. “I’m trying to help you!”

“Then stop trying!” He demands, “That’s how you can help me.”

You know he’s hurting, but you can’t pretend you aren’t hurt by his words, “Fine.” You let him go, but you’re not done yet, “But you’ll be too late.”

You make a fist with both hands and tug hard, a cacophony of sounds echoing down the hall. An entire hoard of museum exhibits have been brought to life and freed, and you let them. Taehyung is appalled, “You promised!”

“I promised I would help and do what I can.” You remind him, “This is the best possible outcome.”

You have good intentions, but Taehyung just can’t see it, “Letting them go through with it?! Breaking the spell! Making them say goodbye?!”

“Goodbye’s aren’t forever.” You know firsthand that this isn’t their end. Their paths most likely will never cross again, but that doesn’t mean they never will. Breaking the spell is the best chance they have at saving any connection they have, “Taehyung, you just have to trust me-”

“I’m done trusting you!” He yells, “Jimin was right, I never should have made that stupid deal! It was all for nothing.”

He feels stupid and used, but most importantly, he feels betrayed. You promised him, but it was to play against him. He thought you changed, but you’re the same person you’ve always been. Uncaring, cold, and a god.

You’re Fate.

You try not to take his words to heart, but you can’t help it, “Was it really all for nothing?” Taehyung doesn’t say anything, and you feel the uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. You’re both silent.

And so is the museum.

Taehyung’s heart drops when he realizes that the once noisy hall is now bathed in silence, “No-”

He looks to you for confirmation, and you can’t deny him the truth, “I’m sorry.”

“Eunha!” Taehyung takes off down the hall and disappears into thin air, no doubt to the King’s exhibit. He leaves you standing alone, wondering why doing the right thing has to hurt.

Taehyung never came back down from the 3rd floor exhibit. After Namjoon was officially gone and Eunha was left with the remains of their bond, Taehyung took off to mourn yet another loss. You never saw him leave, and Eunha didn’t say anything on the way out. You can only hope that she doesn’t let this affect her.

You really hope Taehyung will be forgiving.

“He hasn’t come back to the apartment since our fight.” Jimin confirms.

You stare out the window of your office, arms crossed as you scan the street for any sign of the Moon. It’s been 11 days since anyone has seen Taehyung, and you’re really starting to worry about him.

“Did you check his planet?” You ask.

“He’s not there.” You turn to look at him, ready to ask if he checked the whole planet, but Jimin is 2 steps ahead of you, “I checked both sides.”

“Dammit!” You curse. You raise your hand to hold onto the shining necklace he’d bought you on your outing. You haven’t taken it off since he put it on you, and you’ve found yourself holding onto it to ground you when your strings start to pull you. “Please keep me updated.”

“Yeah…” Jimin looks you over. You’re nervous. Which is strange because the only emotion you ever usually show is anger. He’s seen plenty of humans act this way, and you seem to be genuinely worried about Taehyung. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

“Is that a problem?” You ask, glaring at him.

He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, “I didn’t peg you for someone with emotions.”

You sigh, “You’ve never had any reason to.” You sit down in your chair and lean back, “I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

“I don’t think it was all that bad. I got to expand my knowledge of humans, experience their cultures, and their unique qualities.” He explains, “Even the pleasurable ones.”

You close your eyes and choose to ignore that last part, “Well, at least you had something good come from it.”

“Hey-” He gets your attention, “I deserved it. You don’t have to regret it. Just promise me you’ll make this up to Taehyung.”

“I will.” You promise.

Jimin nods in approval and turns to leave. On his way out, he bumps into Yoongi, “Well, hello Yoongi~”

“Hi Jimin.” Life greets, unamused by his presence.

You wait for Jimin to leave before you sit up and get to business, “Have you found him?”

“Which one?”

“Taehyung.”

“No.” Your shoulders fall and Yoongi sighs. He sits down across from you, “Give him some time to process this.”

You shake your head, “This is exactly what I was afraid of.”

“You did the right thing.” He assures you.

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“Just hold out a little longer.”

“Fine.” You agree. Yoongi has never steered you wrong, so you don’t see why he would now. Holding out a bit more hope won’t hurt you.

“Hoseok and I are almost ready, by the way.” He adds.

“And you’re sure it’ll work?” You ask. Yoongi shrugs, not a very good sign for what you have planned. “Yoongi!”

“There’s a first time for everything!” He argues, “We put our faith in you, now you do the same.”

You really don’t want to chance this blowing up in your face - you know Seowoo would never let you hear the end of it - but this may be the only way to fix everything. You can only hope Yoongi and Hoseok can actually pull it off, “Please don’t make me regret this.”

Yoongi seems to be able to read you mind, “I don’t want to deal with Seowoo just as much as you don’t want to.”

A knock comes from the door, “Excuse me?” Both you and Yoongi turn to see Seokjin standing in your doorway. He seems very apologetic as he looks between the both of you, “Sorry to interrupt, but I was told to come and see you.”

“No problem at all! We’re just finishing up.” You assure the human.

Yoongi stands and brushes off his pants, “I’ll let you know what happens later.” He says goodbye to Seokjin and the greeter bows as he leaves.

“Have a seat, Seokjin.” You offer, pointing to the chair in front of you. He accepts your offer and you pull open your desk drawer to grab the file you made specifically for him, “I just wanted to start off by saying thank you so much for continuing to be such a hard worker. Every time I see you, you’re engaging our patrons with a smile on your face, and I have received numerous compliments from others about what a wonderful greeter I have at my front door.”

He smiles, “Thank you, ma’am. I really try my best to make our guests happy and feel welcome.”

He’s so humble, and that’s one of the things you like the most about him, “I know, and that’s why I wanted to offer a promotion to you.”

“A promotion?”

“You’ve worked well with us for a few years now, I think a promotion is appropriate. You’re very familiar with Ms. Kang, yes?” You ask, knowing very well that he knows his supervisor.

“Of course! She’s a wonderful supervisor.”

“Well, she wants to retire, and I want you to fill her role.” You explain, “You’re still more than welcome to maintain your position as a greeter with your promotion, but entrance maintenance and customer satisfaction will be left to you.”

“Oh wow...I don’t know what to say.” He admits, taking in the new information.

You nod in understanding, “I don’t need an answer now. Her retirement is a few months away, but I want to put it on the table.”

“Yes! Of course! Thank you!” He struggles to find the right words to express his gratitude, “I would love to take over when she steps down!”

“I’m glad to hear that.” You hand him the file you made, all of the information he’ll be needing tucked away inside, “You’ll be working closely with our curators and our security, so I would start to build those relationships if you haven’t already. But I’m sure you already have.”

He nods, “Yes, ma’am. I’m good friends with a lot of the museum staff.”

“If you need someone to help you, check with Kim Taehyung. He’s very much a people person.” You suggest.

“I will!” He agrees, “I know he’s not here today, but I’ll ask him when he’s done at the river.”

“The river?” You ask.

“He called in again today. He said he hasn’t been feeling himself.” Seokjin explains, “I sent him a text just to check in and he said he just needed some time to think in his favorite spot. His favorite spot is by the river.”

“Yes. I see.” You hum. As much as you’d like to continue your conversation with him, you want - more than anything - to go find Taehyung and talk to him. You fake checking your watch and smile, “I look forward to seeing how you grow, Seokjin, but I’m afraid I need to be on my way to a meeting with a few sponsors.”

“Of course!” He stands and so do you, extending a hand to congratulate him. “Thank you again for this opportunity.”

You nod, “Anything I can do.”

He leaves and you quickly pack your things, walking out of the building to keep up appearances. You make it around the corner to a section of sidewalk completely unlit by streetlights before you travel to the river in search of the moon god. The last time he was here, he’d caused havoc and quite literally trashed whatever was in his path. Your hope is that you’ll find him exactly where you had last time.

You don’t see him in the grass when you first pass by, but taking a second look, you do find him with the water up to his chest and his legs floating in front of him. His eyes are closed and he looks to have blocked out everything around him. He just lays in the quiet, in the water, under the stars.

“Taehyung…” You approach him slowly, coming to the edge of the water, and hesitantly taking a seat. You bring your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them, “If you’re not careful, then you’ll drift away.”

He sighs, “I’d rather drift away than feel nothing anymore.”

You don’t know what to say to that. He’s in mourning, and you understand that this all must be hard for him. Especially dealing with a loss for a second time. You want to comfort him, but comfort isn’t something you really know how to do.

Of course, Taehyung knows you don’t know what comfort is. That’s all he’s been able to think about since that night at the museum. You tried so hard to keep him away from what was happening to protect him, and he refused to listen. You weren’t lying when you said you were doing what was best for him.

You weren’t lying about a lot of things.

“Why am I cursed to be the moon? Why must I be so lonely and powerless compared to others?” He asks aloud. You don’t have an answer, and he doesn’t expect one, “Dwarf planets aren’t required to stay with their planets, they don’t require attention. So, why do I have to stay with mine when I have nothing to offer?”

“I don’t know...”

“I’m just the Moon. There’s nothing special about me. I’m just a hopeless romantic ruining the lives of others for my own personal enjoyment.” He’s defeated. He tried so hard. He did everything he possibly could and it still wasn’t enough. “I’m the exact thing I told you I wasn’t.”

Of course, you’ve known how this would inevitably end from the beginning. Whether you were on his side from the start or not, you knew that trying to bring Eunha and Namjoon would end in goodbye for everyone. Of course, there were multiple bad and good outcomes, but this was luckily one of the better ones.

Is he a hopeless romantic? The biggest one you’ve ever seen.

But was he wrong? You’re not entirely sure. However, if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that Taehyung deserves to know the truth.

He deserves to know everything.

“That first time you tried to bring them together-” He turns his head to look at you, “Namjoon still would have died from sickness. It wouldn’t have gone away.” You’d hoped that maybe for once, you wouldn’t be right. If you were lucky, then his necklace would work and he’d feel proud and he’d go home. But you couldn’t let it work just for Namjoon to die. “That’s why I sent the guards in.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I thought that if I told you then, that you would’ve tried again.” You say. Thinking about it makes you laugh considering where you are now, “I guess you would’ve tried anyways.”

He sits up in the water and scoots back, “Yeah...I probably would have.”

“Do you remember when Namjoon died and I came to present you to the counsel?” You ask. He nods, “You told me that maybe if I had an ounce of compassion that people would like me better?”

“Yeah...” He had said that to you. It was out of anger and sorrow, and he never did get the chance to apologize for it.

“I think I’d like myself better too.” You admit, “When I was younger and more naive, I always thought I could pull my strings how I pleased. I thought I could do whatever I wanted, and that ended with ruined lives and the deaths of thousands.”

“You? Ruining lives and causing death?” He asks, almost in disbelief.

You nod, “Hui had to stop me before it got too bad, and he introduced me to Hoseok and Yoongi. He had us learn together how to keep balance, and he told me that I couldn’t allow myself to get caught up with one measly human or I’d never treat any of them fairly.” He was right in a way, but he himself has grown more too. “That’s why I’ve been so terrible.”

Taehyung shakes his head, “You’ve been doing your job.”

You scoff, “Some job I have.”

“No one ever said it was easy to do what you do.” He says. You’re shocked to say the least, he’s the last person you would have expected to back you up. But he’s had time to think everything over. “I shouldn’t have said it was. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“We all have to learn. It’d be easier if it stuck quicker for some.” You tease, earning a laugh from the Moon. He didn’t pick up on the severity of the situation quite as quickly, but maybe he would have if you had been more honest with him. “Actually, you’re familiar with Seokjin, right?”

“Of course! He’s a good friend.”

“He’s one of the first and last strings I ever knotted.”

“Wait, really?” You nod, “Is that why he can never keep a date?”

“It was very early on, humanity had just been created and I was figuring everything out. At the time, I was much more compassionate towards humans.” You explain. You were very much like Taehyung when you first started, but you didn’t stay like that for long. “He liked this girl, and I thought if I just pulled a few strings then they would come together and live happy for the rest of their lives, but-”

He gasps, “Their strings knotted.”

“I tried to fix it. I thought I could tie them back together, but I couldn’t.” You still remember watching Seokjin say goodbye to his destined lover. He was devastated and it was all your fault. He hasn’t run into them since, and you don’t know that he ever will. “I ruined their lives because I couldn’t do my job.”

“You did what you thought was right.” Taehyung assures you, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

You smile, “So did you.” You lean against his side and rest your head on his shoulder.

Taehyung rests his head on top of yours and sighs, “What are we going to do about Eunha?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He asks, surprised, “But she knows.”

“She won’t tell. She’s too busy mourning to worry herself over us.” You seriously doubt she’ll risk telling everyone about the two of you. But still, everything she’s going through right now can’t be easy. “I guess it really isn’t easy to be in love.”

“Love?”

“Love.”

~ Read: Finale ~

33 notes · View notes

folkloreguk · 4 years

Text

Colvers Castle (M)

A/N: This one’s for the bisexual horror-obsessed girls (me)!!! Jk anyone can read this, but I had the best time EVER writing this sdfgh also I was gonna post this around Halloween but I couldn’t wait any longer so here you go!!

genre: mystery / creepy? / smut (optional bias (male) x reader (female))

warnings: a little gore (describing (fake) wounds and costumes), unprotected sex, the reader might be a little risky, mentions of murder / suicide

summary: Two girls go to a Halloween party held at an old castle. What kind of creatures will they encounter, and will they ever be the same afterward?

words: ~5.6 k

“Oh my god!! You look so good!” you whisper-yelled towards your friend who was already sitting on the bench at the bus stop. Her blood red dress sparkled and although her red knee-high boots couldn’t have been too comfortable, they sure made her look incredible. On her head sat a pair of light-up horns and silver chains and chokers adorned her neck. She grinned widely upon laying eyes on you. At first, you had planned on wearing the same outfits, but then you had opted for dressing as polar opposites. Where her horns sat, a fluffy halo seemingly floated above your head. Your dress had a similar cut, but was a simple white, satin material and your necklace had a subtle golden heart pendant just between your collar bones.

“Where’s your trident?” you asked, taking a seat next to her.

“I figured it’s not too safe to dance with an item that could potentially poke out someone’s eye,” she said. “So I left it at home.”

“Fair enough,” you agreed, laughing. “Are you excited?”

“I’ve been freaking out since I got up this morning,” she said, waving her hands in the air dramatically. “A real castle? This has to be fun!”

The two of you were headed to the hottest Halloween party in your city. Usually, you weren’t the biggest fan of parties. But combined with dressing up and going to an old castle outside of the city, this party sounded like it was going to be the best night of the year.

“Finally, the bus is here,” you pointed out. When you stood in line to get on, you noticed how you and your friend weren’t going to be the only party-goers on the vehicle. But then again, there weren’t many bus lines that would bring you to the castle. You spotted a Michael Jackson boarding the bus a few people away from you, followed by a fake-blood-drenched clown. The sight only amped up your enthusiasm. Costumes had always been one of your favorite parts about Halloween. And judging by the scale of the party, you were going to have a lot to observe today. You squeezed past Dracula onto the seat next to your friend and off you went.

The ride to the castle took a while. You had to first ride through almost your whole city and then take a rather abandoned road through the countryside to the site of the party. But you got busy catching up with your friend who you hadn’t seen in a while and time passed quickly. You were in the middle of discussing which was the scariest film you had ever watched, when your eyes locked on a bright light in the otherwise dark scenery outside.

“We’re almost there!” you exclaimed, diverting your friend’s attention to the castle. You had been going through a forest, so when you suddenly exited the tree maze, the bright lit up stone walls of the castle came as an extra-pleasant surprise to you. Only a few minutes later, the voice on the bus announced the stop ‘Colvers Castle’ and soon you pulled up in front of it.

Weakly, you could remember visiting the castle with your school class when you had been a lot younger. You might had grown up since then, but nonetheless the cold, inured stone walls still impressed you. Hadn’t it been for the violet lights shining onto the side of the ancient building, the gaping gate in the battlement would have looked less than uninviting to you. Your friend squeezed your arm in happiness while you approached the entry. From somewhere, music was carried through the air and made you smile.

“Are we allowed to enter all of the castle?” you asked.

“No way! The well-preserved part and the museum will be closed off, I’m pretty sure the party is mainly focused on the inner courtyard,” your friend explained. “They wouldn’t let rowdy teenagers and drunk crazies riot inside such a precious castle.”

Just as she had finished her sentence, your eyes followed the stones in the walls up to where the purple light couldn’t reach. The turrets rose high, and the night was pitch dark. But you could have almost sworn there was a small light coming from the tiny window at the top of one of the turrets. Maybe some party guests had run off after all? There. This time there was no doubt in your mind. There was a man’s expressionless face in a window, looking out at the arriving guests.

“Hey, look up there!” you tugged your friend’s arm. Her eyes followed your finger, but when you looked at where the face had been, it was gone.

“What’s up there?” she asked. Just for a moment, you searched the rows of windows. Maybe you had accidentally lost it. But no matter where your eyes went, all you saw was darkness inside the castle. You mumbled a ‘nevermind’ to your friend and quickly wiped the thought off your brain. This was a Halloween party, and you were ready for it. Along with the familiar faces from the bus ride, the massive gate swallowed you up into the courtyard of the castle.

It was obvious that the major action of the party was going on here. The all-too well known ‘Thriller’ by Michael Jackson was playing from the speakers and you grinned at the young man dressed as the famous singer, who you had already seen on the bus, for a moment.

Party guests were yelling in excitement and singing along, all whilst dancing in a sea of people right in front of you. The main grass area had been transformed into a dance floor. Immediately, your friend pulled you along and into the crowd. In the blink of an eye, the buzz and energy from everyone around you sprung onto you as well, and before you knew it you were moving along to the music. Whoever had managed to throw this event really had an eye for choosing a great venue. Usually, there was something magical and peaceful about the castle. Tonight, however, dunked in red and purple lights and occupied by hundreds of young souls, it made for the perfect backdrop of a legendary Halloween party.

“Welcome to everyone who just got off the bus to join us!” a voice shouted through the speakers, just before the next song started. Your eyes scanned your surroundings. Quickly you had spotted the DJ stand, where a young woman and a man were providing the guests with music. They were wearing matching zombie makeup and outfits and the crowd cheered at their words, an infectious excitement that caught on to you right away.

Time moved differently on a dance floor. Bodies pushed against you, always keeping you moving along. The beat of the music seeped through your skin and into your muscles, almost as if it was your new energy source. It was hard for you to remember how many songs had played since you had arrived. Had it been fifteen minutes or an hour? You could barely hear over the volume intensity, but then again, you didn’t need to. There was no need to talk to your friend right now, who was moving to the rhythm with her hands in the air, grinning at you.

That’s when a figure in a pirate costume pushed themselves between you and her, apparently having taken a liking in your devil-friend. Lazily, she put her arms on the pirate’s shoulders, inviting him to dance with her. You weren’t upset, though. All you wanted was to have fun, and you wished her the same. A girl in a witch costume replaced your friend, and although you had never met her before, there was something about dancing together that made you feel closer to her than you felt to some people you saw every other day. Her hands were on your waist and you shared a moment with your faces close to each other. It was harmless flirting through gazes without either making another move, drawing a smile on your face.

But as soon as she had appeared, she was moving on to the next person. She granted you another toothy smile, like she didn’t have a care in the world, before turning to a vampire girl. You scanned your immediate proximity to check if your friend was anywhere in sight. When you spun around, you spotted the red fabric her dress was similar to, so you squeezed through a few people to get to her. But as you tapped her shoulder and she turned her head it wasn’t your friend. This girl had fake blood smeared across her cheek and looked nowhere like a devil.

Thinking you might have better luck with observing the crowd from an outward perspective, you wriggled yourself through bodies until you reached the edge of the dance area. To your left was a sign saying ‘game zone’. Intrigued, you entertained yourself for a minute by watching a boy dunk his head under water whilst bobbing for apples in a barrel. As soon as you would find your friend, you were planning on convincing her to take a shot at some games. But for now, you needed something to drink. Although you were outside, your cheeks still felt warm and your throat was a little dry from the cheering.

So you opted to walk the other way, pursuing the direction of the ‘bar’ sign. As soon as you had located a free seat, you strutted towards the chair. The bartenders were all wearing superheroes’ costumes and you admired the decorations, ranging from pumpkin heads and little ghosts to spider webs, they had put up.

“Can I get you anything?” cat woman asked you. She gave you a grin as she remembered your face. She had once gone to the same school as you. You quickly ordered before spinning around to get a good look at the dancing crowd. The bar was up on a slight hill, so you were seated at a higher level than the dancers. But the darkness made it challenging for you to accurately spot faces and combined with the way everyone was moving, you quickly gave up on your plan of finding your friend this way. Maybe if you waited a while, she would show up by the bar herself.

“Here’s your drink,” you heard a voice from behind you. When you turned your head, the bartender was placing a glass in front of the young woman next to you. She was dressed like a princess, but her face looked nothing like a fancy noble woman. Her eyes were blood shot and two single lines of blood ran down her white-powdered cheeks.

“I believe this is yours,” she said, sliding the drink over to you. “I didn’t order anything.”

“Thank you,” you said, checking the liquid. She was right. The bartender must have gotten you mixed up. “I like your hair, it’s beautifully done.”

She smiled at your compliment. Then she pushed your glass a little closer towards you and bent over to your ear. “Be careful of your drink. Men like to take advantage of women.”

“I won’t let it out of my sight, don’t worry,” you thanked her whilst smiling. Her expression had been dead serious, almost making you feel uneasy. But when she saw the way you smiled, her features softened. Her mouth that had tiny red lips drawn onto them curled into a beautiful, but kind of sad smile.

As you both turned to yourselves again, you decided to appreciate your favorite part about Halloween – the costumes – for a while. The classics were present: Vampires, killer clowns, zombies and the latest horror movie villains. A wildly dancing group of teenagers all disguised in robes from the Hogwarts -houses made you chuckle. And as always, there was a fair share of people who were wearing undefinable costumes that mainly consisted of random fake wounds or fake blood on their faces and clothing but didn’t impress you all that much. And lastly, there were the lazy ones, who settled for hiding their face behind a cheap mask, so they at least appeared to have made an effort.

For a moment, you dug for your phone and checked if your friend might have texted you. But there were no notifications. You quickly typed a text “where are u?” and let your phone disappear in your small bag. Whilst waiting if she would reply, you decided to take a trip to the toilets. As you walked there, you made more costume observations. To your left, next to the bar, a stone wall ran all the way around the courtyard. Party guests were using it as a seating accommodation, as it was a nice way to overlook the whole atmosphere. A realistic looking version of the nun from the Conjuring-movies sitting on the wall impressed you quite a bit. Next to her, a couple was seated. You couldn’t quite figure out what their outfits were supposed to portray, but they surely weren’t modern day clothes. You admired the makeup they had put on their necks. It looked as if they had slashed throats.

After you had arrived at the bathrooms and finished your business, you checked your texts one more time – but still nothing came from it. You were sure she was simply having too much fun to check her phone. As you walked down the hallway to the exit back into the courtyard, you spotted a young man standing at the end of it. Behind him was a ‘no entry’ sign, that had been temporarily installed to keep party-goers out of the castle. The young man was wearing a white button up shirt and pants that made him look a little like a Disney prince – had it not been for the fake blood that soaked the fabric on his chest, which made him appear more like Dracula. He smiled at you shyly, before turning and walking further down the closed off hallway.

“I don’t think people are supposed to go there,” you spoke, glad that you didn’t need to raise your voice as much because the music was drowned out by the thick castle walls.

“No one’s here to stop me,” he said, before climbing over the fence. “Will you join me for some fun?”

You didn’t think you’d find your friend any time soon, and if she was going to run off with some random pirate stranger, maybe you should too? The vampire prince sure was handsome. Carefully, you walked closer to the fence.

“I’m sure those doors are locked,” you said, watching as he approached the door at the end of the hallway.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he smirked, and next thing you knew he was opening the door that said ‘staff only’ on it. “Care for a free castle tour?”

“How do I know you’re not a creep?” you asked.

“How do I know you’re not a creep?” he replied, laughing. “I’m just bored of having so many people around, alright? If you don’t come with me, I’ll go by myself.”

Your curiosity took over. And maybe he had a charm about him – a sly smirk, a few buttons on his shirt undone or maybe it was his voice that sounded like honey.

“Fine,” you hurried over the fence and squeezed yourself through the opening in the door after him. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“I plan on not letting you forget me,” he said. “But there’ll be no regrets.”

His words were vague, and there was a strange feeling about him, but you simply couldn’t put your finger on it. You looked around. The only light falling into the hallway came from the party outside. This part of the castle seemed to belong to the museum, but the further you followed him through the corridors, the rougher the stone walls seemed.

“You want to see a nice view?” he asked, and of course you did. So, you took the stairs up to a higher level. The rooms here had neither doors nor glass windows and generally didn’t seem to have been restored like the part of the castle that was open to the public.

“Are you real?” he asked.

Your brows furrowed. “Real?”

“A real angel?” he asked. He was walking ahead of you, so you couldn’t check his face for whether he was joking or waiting to attempt a silly pick up line.

“I’m a human being, just like you,” you said.

“You sure do look like an angel,” he said. The sincerity in his voice surprised you. This guy had a strange way of flirting, but you preferred it over the gross sexual remarks other men considered to be flirting.

“Thank you. And what are you tonight?” you asked. You took a look outside into the courtyard. The scene looked breathtaking from above, and this way you could appreciate the immortal beauty of the castle even better.

“I’m the ruler of this house,” he said, smiling. He was coming closer to you now, and you smirked.

“Oh, a prince?” you asked, returning his smile. “If an angel let someone touch her, I think it would have to be a prince.”

“You’re bold,” he said, but he was grinning. “Suddenly I’m glad they are hosting a damn party here on Halloween. So, would you let me touch you?”

“Please,” you said. His eyes were dark and suddenly filled with lust. When his lips first smashed against yours, they felt a little cold, but the moment your tongue swept over his bottom lip and he parted his mouth, his hot tongue met yours. You felt like he had set you on fire in the best way possible. It had been a while since someone had made you so horny in such a short time. Within seconds your hands were in his hair, tugging softly, and his hands wandered from your neck to the front of your dress. Your back arched against his touch eagerly as he squeezed your boobs through your bra.

You didn’t feel in the mood for long foreplay, and luckily it seemed he thought the same. He grabbed your ass, pushing you against him so you would feel his growing bulge. A moan slipped past your lips and you felt like covering your mouth.

“No one hears us here, don’t worry,” he said.

“Sorry, I’ve just never done it in such a…public setting,” you said. Although you doubted anyone else even knew they could enter the castle this easily. Hungrily, you kissed him again and pulled him towards you with such urge that you stumbled backwards a few steps. Your back touched the wall, sending shivers down your spine from the cold of the stone. Teasingly, he lifted the hem of your dress to the top of your thighs, his fingers playing with the suspenders of your garter.

“You like my lingerie?” you asked.

“Hmm…but I think I’ll like what’s underneath more,” he said, fingers ghosting over your center. Impulsively, your eyes closed at even such a tiny touch.

“Then please hurry up,” you urged him, and he chuckled. Swiftly, he pulled aside your underwear and slid one of his fingers between your soaking folds. You sucked in a breath and leaned your head against the wall behind you. On instinct, your hips moved against his hand for more friction. He added another finger, toying with your clit in rapid movements. How did your legs already feel like jelly? You held onto him for support while his free hand pulled you flush against him. When he pushed his digits past your entrance, you hummed in agreement. Expertly, he curled them inside of you, using his thumb on your clit.

“Am I supposed to find angels sexy?” he asked, gaining your attention.

“Yes,” you replied. “And I hope they give you a boner because I want you to fuck me.”

At the same time, you ran your hands down his sides and to his hips to the visible tent in his pants. He grunted when you palmed him through the material and probably also at your words from a few seconds ago. Finally, he removed his hands from between your legs, but you weren’t upset because you knew there was more to come.

“If you turn around, you can have what you want,” he said. More than willingly, you did as he said. When you turned your head, you watched him unzip his pants just enough so he could pull down his underwear and expose his hard length. You placed your palms flat against the wall and arched your back a little. When he slowly pulled up your dress to rest the silky material around your waist, you whimpered in impatience. He knew what he was doing, and he loved hearing you as you quietly asked him to speed things up. You felt the sudden urge to press your legs together as he pulled down your underwear, just slightly so it stayed around your thighs and wouldn’t fall on the dirty ground.

He hissed a little when he let the tip of his cock run over your center, your wetness covering him. For a few seconds he teased you, drawing out more of your whines. But the teasing only made it feel more rewarding when he eventually entered you. He filled you up all the way, then slowly pulled out almost fully, only to pull your hips against him and quickly thrust into you again. With time, he picked up a steady pace, hips slapping against your ass with every movement. You rested your head against the wall, feeling the rough material against your cheek, but you couldn’t have minded less.

There was something so intimate about hearing someone moan. And it felt especially intimate when it was a person you had just encountered. You realized you hadn’t even bothered asking for his name, but you were confident you would never forget him and the way he felt inside of you. When you’d think back to this, you’d remember his fingers digging into your hips, pulling you against him with ever thrust, and the way your moans mixed with the noise of the party in the background. People were cheering and singing while a famous song was blasting through the speakers, but really all you heard were your own whimpers of pleasure.

The air was cool on your bare skin, giving you goosebumps. Simultaneously, you felt hot all over, every of his touches seemingly leaving a trace of fire wherever he laid his hands on you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a moment when you felt his fingers between your legs.

“I’m so close already,” you said, his new actions only adding to the sensation. He drew random shapes onto your center, clouding your mind with the need to just let go and let your orgasm wash over you. He groaned when you clenched around him, and from the way his thrusts quickened and seemed a lot less controlled, you could tell he was almost there too. His curse words and your moans went well together, and before you knew it you felt him twitch inside of you. His liquid spilled out of your core as he pulled out. He breathed heavily but didn’t stop his touching on your clit.

Your thighs trembled when he rubbed faster, pulling your body close to him. You could feel his breath on the side of your neck, only making you feel dizzier. It could have been the drink from earlier, but you were almost convinced it was him who was making you feel as if you were drunk. Your whimpers sounded longer and more dragged out now, and right before you came, they silenced completely. He didn’t stop while your body arched and shook because of his perfect fingers on you. Tightly, your eyes shut and you clenched your hands to fists. When you felt your knees become especially weak from sensitivity you softly tugged on his wrist, signaling him to stop.

Letting out a sigh of both happiness and exhaustion, you spun around. You blinked at him tiredly and smiled. Your head rested against the wall as you watched him pull his pants back up, so you did the same.

“You were amazing,” you said.

“So were you,” he replied, tilting his head a little when he grinned at you. Meanwhile, you picked your bag off the ground. Just as you did so, you felt a vibration coming from inside. Quickly, you checked your phone. “I’m waiting by the bar”, your friend had finally texted you.

“Do you want to come join me and my friend at the party? I lost her earlier so I should really go and see her now,” you asked the handsome stranger in front of you.

“Oh, no thanks. I’d rather stay here for a while longer,” he declined.

“Alright, whatever you like. Maybe I’ll see you again later?” you said.

“That would be nice,” he smirked. “Do you remember the way out?”

You hummed a yes and said your goodbyes to each other. The empty castle hallways were a lot creepier when you walked them by yourself. You imagined how it must have been back then, walking down this corridor. The light of a candle would have made your shadow dance menacingly on the unwelcoming, cold walls and the sound of your footsteps would have been heard even from far away. But the uneasy atmosphere only lasted until you had reached the familiar door. When you opened it, reality engulfed you again.

Your walk to the bar was hasty, since you hadn’t replied to your friend and you didn’t want her to think you wouldn’t show up. The party was just as energetic as before. You even had the feeling that more people had showed up since you left it a while ago. When you neared the seats, you spotted your friend instantly, this time being sure you weren’t mistaken.

“Where were you?” you asked, slinging your arm around her shoulder and grinning from cheek to cheek.

“I could ask you the same,” she replied, giving you a sly look. “Look at you. Your hair and lipstick’s all messed up.”

You chuckled as she ruffled your hair and put your halo back in place.

“Okay, I’ll go first. I met this guy,” you said. She raised her eyebrows as if she was surprised, but you knew she wasn’t. “We might have sneaked off into the castle.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t!” she almost yelled over the music. “I want every detail tomorrow.”

“Alright, granted. What about you?” you asked. “Was the pirate a good kisser?”

She only laughed and nodded her head yes.

“I saw they had a game area over there,” she pointed out.

“Let’s go, and then you can tell me more about that guy,” you said, pulling her along with you. Happily, you sang along to the song that was playing. You couldn’t wait for the rest of the night. Although neither of you tried your luck in apple bobbing, your precious makeup having been too much work to destroy it this way, you found a bunch of other games to participate in. You made temporary friends with a bunch of drunk girls who were all trying to win the main prize in a game but were simply too intoxicated to knock down some cans with balls. So you and your friend helped them out, to which they seemed to have crowned you their new group members. You danced some more, and time passed way too fast for your liking.

By the time you stepped back onto the bus that would bring you home, it was hard for you to say goodbye to the castle. So, this was Halloween for another year. The party mood hadn’t died down, even on the bus ride home, because it was filled with guests. When you watched the castle become smaller, you noticed the heavy fog that seemed to have appeared from nowhere all of a sudden. It engulfed the ancient building into a cloud of white smoke, the further the bus distanced itself from it. As you entered the woods, the only thing left to be visible were the eerie purple lights shining through the fog.

Tiredness came over you when you finally stepped off the bus at your stop. It was a short walk home and you promised to call your friend first thing in the morning before you said your goodbyes. You could already spot your home when you thought back to the stranger from the castle. He had called himself the ruler of the house. His handsome features and smile were livid in your head, even when you silently entered your room and took off your shoes. As you changed into your sleepwear and got ready for bed, you noticed the forming bruises on your hips, but they only made you grin to yourself.

Yawning, you fell into bed, but not before checking if your friend had texted you. Got home safely, goodnight x, she had sent. You quickly replied to let her know you were at home as well and went to switch off your phone. But then curiosity suddenly came over you. With rapid clicks, you searched for the castle’s museum’s website on the internet. Maybe you could find out who had really lived there, hundreds of years ago.

You clicked the ‘history’ button and began to scan the texts, even though your eyelids felt heavier with each second.

King Walter III and Queen Alice ruled the castle. Their two sons Hugh and Henry and their daughter Beatrice grew up happily in the castle. But starting from year 1568, the lives of the noble family took a drastic downfall. Henry, the younger of the two brothers, had always felt jealousy over his older brother Hugh, who would one day inherit the throne from their father. His greed and envy drove him to great lengths, until one day, Henry took out his anger on his brother directly. He stabbed Hugh in his sleep, in rage so blind that even his father could barely stop him when he fell witness to the dire scene. Distraught and outraged by this event, the older brother was locked away in a tower, threatened to never see another face ever again in punishment for his crime. But the unfortunate events didn’t end there. Princess Beatrice had fallen for a Lord from another kingdom, who took it upon himself to take what she had from her. In their wedding night, he was said to have poisoned her drink. She went to bed and never awoke to see the next day. There is only so much parents can take in one year. So, in utter devastation, the king and the queen made a decision together. After having their favorite red wine and watching their last sunset together, they committed suicide by cutting open their throats and died sad, but together. Prince Henry was said to have been forgotten, locked up in his tower all alone, facing a lonely and slow death on his own. Some say they can still hear the voices of the royal family in the castle halls at night, and if you look close enough, you might find their ghosts haunting the castle to this day. Why don’t you come visit us and find out for yourself?

You shivered and felt a little uneasy at the way the museum was advertising something so horrible. But when you scrolled down the page just a little further, what you saw knocked out the breath from your lungs. It was a picture, an old painting to be exact, of the family. And there he was. The prince was staring at you blankly, and you felt tears well up in your eyes in disbelief. It was the stranger who had taken you into the castle. You thought back to his blood drenched shirt. As if he had been stabbed. You shook your head no when your eyes fell on the rest of the family. You recounted Princess Beatrice from where she had been sitting by the bar next to you, telling you to watch over your drink. You saw the queen and the king, who you had noticed sitting on the stone wall, holding hands, the wounds on their throats having looked almost too realistic to have been fake. And then you remembered your arrival at the castle. You thought back to the face you had definitely seen in the window at the top of one of the towers. This was all just coincidence, right? Your stomach turned in terror. Had someone tried to play a joke? But if so, why had their faces looked so perfectly similar to the family in the painting?

Quickly, you pulled up the social media of the girl, your school friend, who had served you at the bar. ‘Do you remember the girl dressed as a princess with bloody tears who you accidentally gave my drink to? She was sitting next to me at the bar’, you quickly typed and sent.

For at least an hour, you twisted and turned in your bed, going from almost sleeping to nervously checking your phone for a reply. You thought you were going crazy. But sooner or later, you realized she might have had too much to do, cleaning up the party or simply going to sleep herself, and you drifted off to slumber.

When you awoke the next day, the previous night almost felt like it had been a scary dream. But when you checked, your hips were still bruised and you had a new message from the girl who had worked at the bar: As far as I remember, the seat next to you was empty. I gave the drink to you. You were dressed as an angel, right? Why are you asking?

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duskandstarlight · 4 years

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Embers & Light (Chapter 27, Nessian multi-chapter)

Notes: Hello lovely readers! I am so sorry for the day's delay in posting this chapter. I was really poorly last week (and I'm still recovering) so I wasn't able to keep on top of my writing in order to bring you a chapter yesterday. That is not only because I found this very difficult to write, but because this is a LONG chapter. 14k words. There was so much to pack in, and as you all know, I am not one to gloss over certain elements, especially not Nessian goodness. Thank you to everyone who has sent me will-wishes this week and last. You are all lovely people and it's very much appreciated. Let me know what you think, as always. And apologies for any typos and inconsistencies—as I said, I've not been well so my brain has not been functioning like it usually does!

Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

Chapter Twenty-Seven Cassian

Frawley and Lorrian were all ready to go when Nesta came downstairs. Those ever-perceptive eyes—ice blue and brown—fell immediately to Nesta’s chest as she stepped into the hallway. But to Cassian’s relief, the witch remained relatively silent, mounting Caerleon and casting into the sky with her husband close behind her in a glow of emerald without more than a few crisp, comments.

Nesta flew on Sala. Despite knowing that she had trained on Caerleon enough the previous week to know what to expect, Cassian could not help the fear that wound its way into his mouth as beast and Fae left the ground. He needn’t have worried. Sala’s gait seemed as natural to Nesta as breathing; her legs tucked into the manticore’s flank just before the beast’s wings with a confident, determined grip and her fingers were secure in Sala’s ruff. Cassian had launched himself into the skies straight after her, watching Nesta as if he were a hawk. He knew the magic binding Nesta and Sala would keep Nesta seated despite the battering winds and any notion of gravity, but that didn’t stop him from flying a few feet below her for the first couple of miles, ready to throw himself into a nose dive should she fall.

But later, when he realised that Nesta was perfectly at home on top of her manticore, Cassian had risen to fly beside her. And when he had winked at her, his broad wings flapping to match her furious pace, the smile she had sent back had been genuine enough for Cassian to know that if he died that day, he would die happy. That he had seen Nesta offer him a true smile without any thought of stifling it, and it was beautiful.

A few miles from the camp, the four of them landed to leave the manticores in a thicket of pine trees. Cassian watched Nesta bury her face into the manticore’s neck and whisper in the beast’s ear before she wordlessly strode over to him.

They had decided the night prior that Frawley and Nesta would leave their manticores behind. It was an idea that had been met with great protest by Frawley, but in the end, Cassian and Lorrian had talked her round. They were both of the same opinion; bringing the manticores to the Solstice luncheon would probably push the already hostile Illyrian lords to self-combust. So the manticores would remain on stand-by, out of sight but near enough to the camp to intervene if necessary.

“Ready to go for a ride, sweetheart?” Cassian teased Nesta as she walked towards him.

Cassian had expected things to be strained between them since he had given Nesta the necklace. There was also the small matter that they would be publicly declaring themselves together today, but Nesta appeared wholly unfazed. If anything, she looked happy, despite the sexual innuendo which usually had her dropping swiftly into irritation. Her cheeks were stung pink from the cold air, giving her a healthy glow, and her eyes were impossibly bright in a way that made his own heart ache.

Her lack of reaction didn’t help Cassian to stop thinking about Nesta in a sexual capacity. And the thought of Nesta actually riding him… He had dreamt of her so many times now that their imagined actions had become a well-rehearsed dance. He knew what it felt like for her to straddle his hips. Knew what she sounded like when she sighed and sank down onto the length of him, his lips attacking the column of her neck. Of how he groaned so deeply that everything in him shook. Nesta’s phantom hands always weaved through his hair at the sound, and when she bent to kiss him, she tasted entirely right...

“I suppose I’ll have to make do with you,” Nesta struck back, pulling Cassian out of his salacious thoughts with a jolt. Her tone was playful, but there was an underlying edge of disappointment that told him she was fed up of being carried around.

Even though it hurt, Cassian understood. He wouldn’t want to be carted around the skies when he could fly through them. So, he only cast a new protective shield over them, knowing that Nesta would spit blue murder if he ruined her hair. He also knew that he should look presentable for once, rather than turning up in blood-stained armour and hair so wind-snarled that running a brush through it threatened to break it more than it promised to ease out the knots.

Cassian might be the Night Court’s general, but that didn’t mean it was beneath him to look presentable.

For a long, the two of them travelled in silence. To his surprise, Nesta had curled her fingers into his chest, an action which had been lost long ago with her fear of flying. The action was absent-minded enough to tell him her thoughts were elsewhere. Indeed, when he glanced down at her she looked far away.

Cassian was just about to ask if she was all right, when Nesta asked, “Sala will be ok in the forest?”

He bit back a smile at her concern. Somehow, he knew that would upset her.

“Yes, she’ll be fine,” Cassian replied sincerely. “She’s an alpha predator and she’s with Caer.”

Darting another glance downwards, he found Nesta chewing on her lip. The action made her appear even more beautiful. Cassian didn’t know how Nesta always managed to look so arresting. Sometimes, he thought it was because he saw her through rose-tinted lenses, but then someone else would make a comment, like Lorrian yesterday, and he’d know it wasn’t in his imagination at all.

“If you need her, she’ll come,” Cassian assured Nesta, locking his eyes with hers so his words held weight. “Sala is bound to your magic, just will her presence and she will find you.”

Slowly, Nesta nodded. When she unclenched her teeth, her bottom lip was swollen and flushed. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss her when they weren’t dying. Whether she’d let him. Sometimes—only rarely—Cassian thought she might. Like earlier, when he had given her the necklace and she had twisted to look up at him. It would have been so easy to cup her cheek and bow his head that little bit further. And for a second, he’d thought that was what she had wanted. Her eyes had darted to his lips, but rather than satisfaction Cassian had felt a stab of mutual fear. Because they both knew that if Cassian was to give in to temptation—if she let him and wanted it—they would not stop until their skin was bare and their bodies were moulded into the other.

Cassian fortified his ring of fire at the thought. Made it even tighter and more formidable. Blocked out the thought of Nesta’s endless skin and her unforgiving curves. Since the kerits attack on Windhaven, Cassian felt more of Nesta down that shared tether. It was still constricted, but it was enough to get hits of emotion more frequently than before. And even though Cassian was desperate to, he hadn’t dared to reach out and touch that twisted rope again.

It hurt to deny himself the pleasure of brushing against it. The urge pulsed beneath his skin, whispering her name over and over: Nesta, Nesta, Nesta.

“You’re ok with today’s plan?” Cassian asked Nesta, because he needed to say something that didn’t make him think about how they would be sharing a bed later. How he would be so consumed by her scent it would be hard to breathe, let alone think. Needed to focus on the fact that today could be very dangerous and that he was willingly carrying her right into it.

It would not be like last time when she had been suffering from nightmares. This time she would be lucid. He would not be able to arch a protective wing over her and ghost his body alongside hers. It was going to be necessary torture and he had no idea whether she had yet pieced together that they would not have separate sleeping arrangements. Nesta was usually so quick to put two and two together, but she had not truly snapped or refused point blank to be anywhere near him, which made him suspect that it hadn’t yet clicked.

“Aside from being promised to you?” Nesta asked, a slight crease appearing between her brows.

The words were not vicious, but Cassian still had to snicker away the hurt. “Aside from that.”

“Yes, I’m ok with the plan,” she replied. She craned her neck up to look at him. “You’re worried.”

Cassian could not help but press his lips tightly together. He thought about denying it, but somehow he knew that she could read his expression too adeptly.

“I’m always wary before I meet with the war-lords. I’m even more wary when a meeting has been brought forward,” Cassian admitted. He cast his gaze forward to the skies, to Lorrian and Frawley who were flying ahead of them. Lorrian’s natural gait had always been faster than Cassian’s. Whilst Cassian’s wings were bigger, Lorrian’s build was made for speed. “I’ve got a bad feeling about it,” he admitted. “Marsh is a notoriously harsh war-lord, but he’s been unwell in recent years. Usually, a war-lord would not think twice to rid himself of a son who would pose as a threat. Kallon has openly claimed to have Enalius’s sword and his father has not made a single move against him, even though it threatens his position.”

“You think Marsh would kill his own son?”

Cassian snorted. “It has happened before. That, or a son would be cast out of the camp and stripped of his entitlement.”

Nesta frowned. “So, what you are saying is that you do not think that Marsh has long left to live and he is allowing Kallon to rule in his stead?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I think,” Cassian replied seriously, not at all surprised at Nesta’s intelligence. “And that means Kallon could soon be in a position of great power and influence, especially if he claims to have been chosen by Enalius to unite the Illyrians.”

They flew in silence for a few minutes. Cassian could almost hear the cogs turning in Nesta’s mind, as she digested the information he had just given her. But when she finally spoke, it was not about Kallon or the rising discontent. “I won’t be subservient.”

Cassian looked down at her in surprise. Did she mean today? “I don’t want you to be,” he said carefully. Honestly.

“Aren’t you going to remind me of the Illyrian customs and how I shouldn’t behave considering I’m a female?” Nesta asked stiffly.

Cassian frowned. Maybe things weren’t fine between them, after all. There was a sudden edge to her voice that he had heard when he had first shown her the necklace. That sharp, brittle parry that had almost seemed like she was purposefully attempting to put distance between them. He had felt her panic. She hadn’t been able to stifle that emotion before it flew down their tether. Nor had she been able to disguise the beating of her heart, which pattered at such a rate that it had melded with his own terrified rhythm.

Nesta knew what the necklace was, Cassian was sure of it. Knew by now that he had dived back into the Sidra to retrieve the gift she had refused, just as she had rejected him.

Now Cassian was no longer clouded by the fierce grip of rejection, he could not entirely blame Nesta for turning him away on Solstice. She had spent the evening sitting as far away from the fire as possible during a visit against her will. And not only had she had to fight battle trauma, but she had been forced to endure how they were all moving on without her. It was what Nesta had insisted upon, but Cassian was not stupid enough to think that it hadn’t hurt, especially when he had opened Mor’s gift and laughed along with everyone, pretending everything was fine when it most certainly was not. When it had felt as if someone had already thrust a hand into his chest and thrown out his bloody, bleeding heart for everyone to see.

To see the world through a pair of dusky blue eyes rather than hazel had everything tilted sideways, but it was necessary, he knew that now.

“No,” Cassian replied shortly, and meant it. Nesta was wild and he hungered for it. To see her chained and timid went against every fibre of his being.

“Is that not what is expected of the females here?” Nesta questioned, her voice that little more pointed.

Cassian frowned again. “It is, but I like you just the way you are,” he confessed slowly. “It is not what I would ever expect of you.”

Then, he barked a laugh, missing the sudden change in Nesta’s expression. “And you’ll find your defiance is in good company. You and Frawley are going to make a formidable pair.”

A soft snort. It was as close to a laugh as Cassian was going to get, but he would settle for it, even if it was nothing on the joy that had hit him square in the stomach a few weeks prior. He had been eating breakfast in the kitchen when he had felt it: pure, radiating laughter that had somehow ghosted into his ears and wound itself around his most vital organs. He had been out of his seat and in the skies before he had a moment to catch himself, following that tether between them that was more defined than ever before. But the cold, bracing air had done him good, and Cassian had turned sharply around, suddenly understanding that it was not his moment to share. That it was something Nesta needed to experience independently from him.

So, Cassian had waited at the bungalow for Nesta to return, every second a new form of torture. And from the moment she stepped through the front door, he had known they had reached a turning point. There was a lightness to her features that he had not seen before. As if the laughter had broken through that expressionless mask and rendered her new.

Cassian had expected to have to wait for a glowing retelling from Mas the day after, but Nesta had told him herself, a ghost of a smile on her lips as he made her breakfast and a mug of chai, listening to her talk and talk and talk.

He would have sold his soul in that moment. Would have done anything for her. But he had only sat opposite with a cup of steaming coffee and watched her eat as if she hadn’t for days. And when he had asked if she wanted to come with him to oversee his camp duties, she had nodded without hesitation, telling him she had a few hours before she was due to show Feyre around the camps with Mas.

“I should warn you that they’ll be interested in you,” Cassian told Nesta after a moment.

Nesta’s body turned stiff in his arms. “What do you mean?”

“Word has spread amongst the camps about what you did,” Cassian explained.

Mas had encouraged the widows to do as much. The monthly market set deep in the mist-shrouded valley of Empyr, was the perfect opportunity for those that could fly to spread word, just as Kallon’s recruits spread vicious discourse about the Night Court. The valley was flanked by lush forest green and cascading waterfalls, and Illyrians flew from all over the mountains to stock up on essentials, from grains and spices, to weaponry and healing medicines. It was also the location of the Illyrian festival Kharon, where once a year, Illyrians congregated to sail souls to rest down the River Styx.

Cassian couldn’t wait to take Nesta there. Was waiting for the perfect moment.

“Feyre was there, too,” Nesta reminded him, but Cassian only shook his head.

“You brought Mas back to life. A lowly widow in the eyes of the average Illyrian. You gave someone worth who was deemed as having none, Nesta. You sparked an oppressed female to lead others and finally stand up against cultural traditions that have been engrained for centuries—”

“But the males don’t see it that way?” Nesta guessed, cutting him off. Her expression did not give any indication that his praise had either pleased or irritated her.

Cassian tilted his head in a shrug, but he did not stop staring into her eyes—into the smoky blue that mesmerised him even now. “Should the dissent continue to rise, we might be forced to invoke a referendum about whether Illyria should become an independent nation,” Cassian explained. “Females have the right to vote. Rhys instated the law many years ago, much to the chagrin of the Illyrian males. I think that’s why Kallon has been targeting the females who lost their husbands and sons in the war—in the hope that their support would swing the cause in his favour.”

“But if he is behind the orchestrated attacks, then we could stop a divided nation?” Nesta asked, finishing his strain of thought.

Cassian’s smile was grim. “Exactly.”

“You think he did it?”

Cassian shrugged. “I keep thinking about those bastards who have disappeared. I would not be surprised if their allegiance had been bought by the rebellion. I’m sure they have been promised a station above the lowest ranking foot soldier. You heard Devlon, they are all exceptional in the skies, but they aren’t recognised for their talents. They have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”

“What would happen if you captured them?” Nesta asked quietly.

Cassian looked into the distance—at the pine-capped mountains and the craggy mountain stone. He didn’t want to think about what would befall those males. He knew them. They were good soldiers with no sense of self-worth.

Nesta touched Cassian’s shoulder. “Maybe it won’t come to that,” she said.

“Maybe,” Cassian replied, but he knew he didn’t sound convinced.

Lord Marsh’s residence was a too-large stone building set deep into the forested mountain ledge that overhung the rest of the mountain pass. Flags bearing the Ironcrest insignia—a crested hawk eagle with its wings spread wide—rippled in the breeze, and Fae males armed with spears flanked the huge double-doors, which were made of heavy pine and punctured with black iron studs and heavy handles in the shape of Illyrian wings. The guards iron helmets were plumed with pointed black feathers tipped with white, just like the hawk that had given Ironcrest the latter part of its name.

Carefully, Cassian touched down onto the stone a careful distance from both the entrance and Lorrian and Frawley. He did not give Nesta the opportunity to step away. Instead, he tightened the arm that was still wound around her waist and curled a wing around them like a shield.

Already he felt territorial. Already he did not want to let her go.

“You stay with me tonight.”

Nesta’s head whipped up at the dead seriousness of his tone. His words were not up for debate but to his surprise, she did not hiss ‘no’ and he did not feel that silver power push against her skin. Cassian suspected that Nesta’s nerves had started to fray at the prospect of being somewhere that was not the bungalow or Lorrian and Frawley’s cottage.

He touched her hand to bring her back. Nesta stared down at the fingers that clasped hers as if she did not understand how they had got there, before she tightened her grip and turned to face him. As she met his gaze, that smoky blue latched onto him and he felt as if he was a predator who had crawled into the palm of her hand and rolled over in surrender.

“If you need to get my attention when we are inside then send me a subtle signal,” Cassian told Nesta in a quiet voice. Already there would be too many prying eyes and ears. He could already feel Fae watching him from the crown glass windows, their faces distorted by both the plain whorled glass and the stained colours of the insignia set into their middle.

Nesta frowned. “How—”

Cassian pressed his fingers gently against Nesta’s stomach. He felt the wings of her ribs and the muscles of her core. “Here,” he said softly, his heart battering against his chest. “Like you did the other day at Kanaman.”

This close up Cassian could taste the sweetness of Nesta’s breath. Could see every single one of her eyelashes and the black-blue kohl that rimmed the upper lids. Nesta was not usually one for enhancing the features she already had. She did not need to. Staring at Nesta as a human had been enough for Cassian’s breath to catch in his throat, but as Fae… she was devastating. And whilst Cassian preferred Nesta windswept in leathers and a simple braid, he could not deny that when he had found her that morning to give her the necklace, his knees had gone weak.

Yet, there was something about Nesta being dressed up which made Cassian feel as if he were at a distance from her. As if the formal garments and the tight, intricate arrangement of her braid slammed a partition between them, highlighting how he was only a lowly bastard and she was too good for him. It was why he had often kept his distance before, too fearful to speak with her in front of his friends in case she were to shoot him down publicly. And the truth of it was that Nesta made him feel like he was young again. He had played games without realising it. Ignoring her to feign indifference, hoping to hide just how affected he was by her mere presence in a room. How scared he was to let his friends see just how much his wild and vulnerable heart had been flung out before this bewitching female for the first time in centuries. Because Nesta was not like anyone else he had ever met. He had never felt like this. Not just an undeniable pull of attraction, but something deeper than lust or fancy. Something more.

It was only when Cassian spied the pyrite laying below her collarbone did he relax a little. Perhaps it was too simple for someone as arresting as Nesta, but she hadn’t rejected it. Had let him put it on her and she had not taken it off, not even when she had realised what it was. How it highlighted that painful memory that was strung between them.

She had called the necklace beautiful. Had meant it.

“What—” Nesta started, but she broke off suddenly, a flicker of recognition dawning on her face. Absent-mindedly her fingers closed around the pyrite, as if touching it allowed her to understand—to tap into his mind and read his thoughts.

For a moment, they stared at one another. Both of their hearts thumping even as their expressions remained impassive. If not for the slight stain on Nesta’s cheeks Cassian would not have known she was affected at all.

It amused him that she had thought she had gotten away with sending an emotion back without him noticing. It was the first he had felt something gentle from her, rather than a blast of emotion. And whilst the sensation had still been stifled down that constricted tether, it had touched him in a way he could not explain. That she had cared enough to soothe his torment.

In that moment, Cassian had felt wholly connected to her, but Nesta hadn't even glanced his way.

Outside of their cocoon, Cassian heard approaching voices and the clink of armour. Even still, he found himself hesitating, wanting a private moment with Nesta for a little longer before they were thrown to the vultures.

So, Cassian surprised her, raising her knuckles to his lips. Her skin tasted so intoxicating the primal part of him internally growled, but he only looked at her with dark eyes as he slowly retracted his wing — at the smoky silver that slid behind her irises, and unable to help it, breathed softly, “Pulchra.”

His lips quirked against her skin when her breath hitched. Then, slowly, he dropped her hand and offered her his arm with a smile that for once he did not have to catch and shape into something else. “After you, amore,” he said.

Nesta studied him for a moment. He watched her eyes slide past him to the stone building—to the window and the faces that he knew were staring, prying and scheming. Saw the understanding dawn on Nesta’s face that told him she had believed the kiss for show, when really it had been nothing but a perfect excuse.

And then she took his arm.

Warriors on duty armed only in fighting leathers and what Cassian suspected was a number of well-hidden knives led them to the drawing room. Stone walls lit by bobbing faelights cast dark, long shadows in the hallways and onto the faded rugs. As they turned a corner, female servants came into view laden with silver plates piled high with food. In the near distance, a wide doorframe gleamed, light spilling into the corridor and with it, the rumble of forced conversation and the clink of glasses.

One step into the bright room had Cassian on high alert and scanning for every possible exit point. As usual, the Solstice Luncheon did nothing to bring the Illyrians together. Instead, the clans remained steadfast in their own groups of lords and ladies, save for the odd stiff conversation between camps with long-formed alliances. Cassian spied Lord Condor from Forktail speaking stiffly with Devlon, and Cassian immediately thought of Lorrian. How would he fare coming face-to-face with his younger brother today? Notoriously they did not get on. Rumour had it that Lord Icor Condor had not been happy that Lorrian had been promoted from outcast to Colonel. Cassian had received a hate letter for it, not that he cared. Everyone knew Lorrian was the best equipped Illyrian to get their warriors back to a high-level of skill in the skies.

It did not take Cassian long to locate Ironcrest’s war-lord. He was sitting at a large pine table laden with Illyrian cuisine in front of the right-hand bay window. In front of him, a large silver goblet was full to the brim with red wine, as well as a plate piled high with untouched food.

Lord Anguis Marsh had always been a broad shouldered male who was unusually well-kept for a warrior. His dark hair was slicked back to feather at the nape of his neck, and he sported a hooked, crooked nose and an ugly scar which effectively splitting through his upper lip. When Marsh had been in good health, he had been known for his alarming speed on the battlefield and the vicious nature with which he gutted his opponents. Now, Cassian could not find that male in front of him.

Marsh was the eldest of the war-lords—a few millennia old, perhaps—and as Azriel had reported, his health was not what it was. The lord—or prince, as all the top ranking war-lords were referred to (with Enalius being viewed as their God and King)—had not been able to fight in the most recent war, nor had he made a point of sitting in on the War Counsel. Kallon, who was Marsh’s only princeling and son, had been denied a place on the Counsel in his stead, with Cassian arguing that it was not only because Kallon was unseasoned, but because he wasn’t intending to fight against Hybern himself. It had been a decision that Cassian knew had not been taken lightly, and he did not delude himself to think that the repercussions weren’t now stacked against him.

The prince’s declining health was far worse than when Cassian had last seen Marsh. That much was evident from where he remained seated at the thick pine table rather than standing with the majority of his guests. Although, Cassian mused, he would not put it past any Illyrian war-lord to feel so superior that they remained seated at their house table as if it were a throne.

Steering Nesta over the table to get the formalities over and done with, Cassian deliberately shortened his strides to match hers. As he did so, he tracked Marsh reaching stiffly for his goblet to take a deep drink. It did little to disguise the unmistakable tremble of his hand. Only the war-lord’s eyes remained the same as Cassian remembered; small, yellow and beady — alert and vigilant in the way that only a true Illyrian warrior was. They slid from Cassian to Nesta, before moving on to Lorrian and Frawley behind them.

“General.” A deep, drawl laced with the faintest rasp. Not as fierce as it used to be, that was for certain.

Yet, the sneer that twisted the male’s tan face as they came to a stop a few feet from the table undoubtedly belonged to Marsh. The movement highlighted the scar on Marsh’s lip, the skin crumpling as the split caused it to curl in the wrong way. “I see you brought company, bastard, when usually you do not grace us with your presence at all.”

Cassian did not let a flicker of expression taint his blank canvas. He had sent word of their intended stay well ahead of time, but Cassian knew that Marsh would feign ignorance just for the spite of it. “Yes,” he replied. “As I am sure you are already aware, Colonel Lorrian has been reappointed and is overseeing the armies aerial fleet. Neither of us would miss the Rite counsel.”

It was true, Cassian would not miss the Rite counsel that would take place later that afternoon. It was unusual that it had been moved. Usually it took place mid-January, but seeing that it was Ironcrest who was due to hold the ceremony that year, combining the Solstice luncheon and the Rite counsel made sense. It didn’t stop Cassian from being suspicious. Any deviation from the Illyrian’s deepest traditions always had Cassian’s hackles raised, not because he did not appreciate progress or the ability to adapt, but because it was not the Illyrians usual way, especially when it came from one of the oldest Illyrian war-lords.

Marsh did not acknowledge Cassian’s comment regarding the Rite. Instead, he said maliciously, “I didn’t believe there was an aerial fleet left.”

Cassian did not allow his body to stiffen. Did not allow to show how they affected him, even now. He could beat them all to a pulp if he wanted, Cassian reminded himself. He had more siphons than all of them. More Killing Power. He may be a bastard but he was a worthy warrior and better suited to lead the armies than any one of them.

So, he dropped into a voice that he saved for occasions like this. A voice which promised death and destruction and was not to be disputed. “Colonel Lorrian will oversee the training of your aerial warriors tomorrow morning,” Cassian clipped coldly, as if he had not heard the rebuttal. “And we will see how much of that rings true. I am sure Ironcrest would not have allowed their warriors to sink in standard.”

Another curl of the lip as Marsh sneered. Without looking behind him, Marsh raised his goblet with a shaking hand. A female servant rushed forward with a tall, heavy pitcher of wine. When his goblet was refilled, Marsh did not shift his yellow, beady eyes from Cassian as he lifted the goblet to his lips. His hand shook with enough effort that the contents spilled over the lip and onto his arm.

A snarl unleashed itself from Marsh’s throat, the sound not unlike a whip hitting home. The goblet thunked onto the pine table, wine sloshing over the surface. “Maya, you useless female,” Marsh chastised the female servant, whose eyes had widened with fear. “You jostled me. Get me a napkin at once or I will banish you to the widows camp and be done with you.”

The hand that was still looped through Cassian’s arm tightened slightly, and Cassian felt the threat of Nesta’s magic push beneath her skin. Training regularly with Nesta had allowed Cassian to become used to the seal of her magic. It was something which had become as naturally as breathing to him since that day at Spearhead, when they had first trained with his siphon. It was almost as if Nesta’s magic had imprinted onto his very being. When it moved, he felt it. When it blazed, he burned without fire.

As if it were the most natural gesture in the world, Cassian brought a hand to cup Nesta’s where it lay on her arm. It was a reminder to stay calm. Nesta’s job was to scout out the emotions in the room, not set it aflame.

“Father,” a male voice announced.

Cassian turned to see a male standing a few feet from them. Kallon was the imitation of his father when he had been in good health: impossibly dark hair scraped back to the nape of his neck; yellow eyes; a chiselled jaw; and sharp cheekbones. He was handsome in the way that most Fae were, and his skin betrayed his youth; the majority of brown unmarred, save for a vicious looking scar on his arm and half of a missing index finger on his left hand, which left the digit intact only to the knuckle. Kallon did not have Illyrian tattoos yet—had not seen war to earn them—and on the backs of his hands lay no siphons.

Given the steadfast rule at all gatherings for the war-lord, Cassian was not surprised to see that no sword lay either in a scabbard by Kallon’s side, or strapped down his spine, as was Illyrian custom.

“My son, Kallon,” Marsh announced with the stiff flick of a trembling hand, “who I presume you have met before.”

Cassian did not bow his head. “I don’t believe we have met in a number of years.”

Piercing yellow eyes studied Cassian. “I don’t believe I would have had cause to, considering our General does not visit Ironcrest often, and given that I was not permitted a place on your war counsel.”

An insult already and one that was not entirely true. Cassian had visited Ironcrest a fair few times over the last four months, but Kallon had never been in the training ring or with his father at the same time.

Kallon’s luminescent yellow eyes moved from Cassian’s to the female beside him. They stilled and then, painstakingly slowly, they deliberately raked a path over every inch of Nesta’s body. The movement was purposefully claiming, and Cassian suppressed the growl that came roaring to the forefront as Kallon dared to flex the claws on his wings. “And who is this bewitching female?” he asked.

Nesta had turned preternaturally still, and not one part of her body moved save for her eyes, which slid to the talons at the apex of the princeling’s wings. In fact, Cassian noted, Nesta’s posture had not changed since she had entered the house; her spine stacked tall, her chin slightly raised, those beautiful eyes lined with silver shimmering mercury blue. But there was something in her stillness that made Cassian wonder if Nesta, too, had dissected that Kallon’s good looks had a cold and unreachable quality that hinted at something far sinister. As if he used them as a way of luring in victims, much like sirens tempted sailors to the rocks at sea.

Nesta would have felt distant and otherworldly if she had not been holding his arm. If he could not feel her, ever so slightly, down that bond thanks to her lowered walls.

“This is Lady Nesta Archeron,” Cassian replied, forcing all malice from his voice.

“Oh, yes,” Kallon mused smoothly, his irises flaring as if they were an extension of his nostrils. No doubt trying to scent whether Cassian had claimed her. “I have heard of you. I can feel your power. I’ve heard others call you a witch, but I have also heard that you have taken a power that is ancient beyond reckoning. Something that is not yours.”

The princeling’s voice had dropped into a purr and a snarl roared inside of Cassian as Kallon closed the distance between them to take Nesta’s hand. His signet ring flashed in the faelight as he placed a slow, deliberate kiss to Nesta’s knuckles—the exact same spot atop Nesta’s ring finger that Cassian had kissed moments earlier.

“Such a touching story,” Kallon continued, his voice unbelievably even as he looked up at her, “about how you defended one another on the battlefield.” His gaze intensified and sharpened on Nesta as he lowered her hand from his mouth. “Rumour has it that your dedication did not last long, but who can blame you for deciding not to settle for a lowly bastard?”

The way in which Kallon straightened was slow and deliberate. He did not let go of Nesta’s hand, his yellow eyes continuing to stare pointedly at the female before him, as if he had been privy to every night she had fucked someone else and Cassian had perched outside on the rooftop.

Hot and cold washed over Cassian’s body with such ferocity it felt as if he had jumped into both ice and fire. Rage and humiliation battered against his shields, but he did not lower them. Would not allow Nesta or anyone else in the room know how much those words affected him.

But then he felt Nesta’s anger fling itself hard down their tether, the sensation not akin to a blow to the stomach. It pierced through his fire, his heart, and for a moment he felt as if he had been set aflame. He knew she had lowered her shields so she could sense others' emotions in the room, but to be reminded how much she truly felt when she let every barrier fell away was astounding.

Even so, when Nesta spoke, her voice was icy and level beyond reckoning. “Evidently that is not true, otherwise I would not be here.”

She retracted her mist-wrapped hand from Kallon with such care Cassian knew that she was considering smacking him round the face.

A low, sensual laugh that was more fitting for jovial conversation than it was here. “Do not try to convince me that you, a High Fae, has settled for the lowest born faerie? Just how poor was the offering back in Velaris? I hear there was no shortage of males in your bed…”

Cassian had stopped breathing for fear that if he did he would launch towards Kallon and use his fists to beat him bloody and blue. His shield had faltered, the fire sputtering as the words hit home like a spear to the heart.

Nesta did not rise to the bait. She only clipped, “It turns out that the only male I found to be worthy was an Illyrian bastard, so that is no longer relevant.” That chin of Nesta’s rose defiant, and with it, she grew even taller; a vengeful mighty queen looking down on her subjects with pure loathing. “And I may have been Made High Fae against my will, but I am human at heart. I believe you think them to be at the bottom of the chain, so perhaps that will help you sleep easier at night.”

Kallon blinked at Nesta, momentarily stunned. His gaze slid to her fingers, where mist was still seeping from them, curling around Cassian’s bicep. The heat was a welcoming lick rather than hot enough to burn, but the way her fire started to take form, the mist turning into a rope which blazed in coils around her forearm was enough to insinuate otherwise. And there was the fact that Nesta could will it to burn hotter if she liked. Cassian did not doubt that she could incinerate the room with a mere flick of her fingers.

The thought thrilled him. Stacked up the fire inside of his own body, his internal shields answering to hers as his flames licked higher.

Kallon did not step back, although Cassian saw the muscles in his body tense as if to fling himself out of range. He cocked his head to the side, contemplative, as if Nesta were a puzzle he wanted to figure out. And then, he slipped. For a fraction of a second his right hand fell to his hip, where a sword or knife usually hung from his weapon’s belt. But the way his fingers remained there, lingering… it was enough to tell Cassian that he was hiding something. That he was armed, even though he was not supposed to be.

And the knowledge clearly gave him courage, because he stepped towards Nesta, his eyes gleaming—

Nesta snarled, her whip uncoiling itself, the tip lashing out across the clearing with such speed Kallon recoiled.

“It’s true then,” Kallon said, his eyes bright as he took a step backwards. “Silver flames—”

But his father interjected, as if he had endured enough of his son’s games. “I do not remember inviting two witches and an Incomplete to this luncheon,” Marsh snapped.

“Scared of what we’re capable of?” Frawley asked, speaking up for the first time since they had stepped into the room. Her voice was quiet but chilling, and her ice-blue eye levelled Marsh with such a glare that Cassian found himself tensing. Frawley was not irresponsible enough to start a fight, but she had been known to provoke the war-lords when she saw fit. Usually when they insulted her husband.

“To think that you would be in the company of two females more powerful than you,” Frawley mused with the deathly sort of calm that Cassian usually harboured for himself during battle. “And that’s not to mention that one of us beheaded the King of Hybern.”

That lip twisted and contorted, but Kallon spoke before his father had the opportunity to do it himself. “I do not think that we need to thank a witch for ending a war where Illyrians were treated as disposable,” Kallon said.

A murmur went through the crowd. But that did not deter Nesta, who levelled Kallon with a gaze which had him stilling as a slow, cruel smile crept across her face. “I’m not a witch,” she vowed. “I’m something much worse.”

True silence. So quiet that Cassian could have heard a pin drop.

And that was when, without waiting to be dismissed, Cassian chose to steer Nesta away from the war-lord’s table and into the watching crowds.

Nesta moved beside him as if she were floating, as if gravity did not apply to her. Cassian challenged every stare and every curling lip they passed. When they reached the large windows farther down the room where it was less crowded, he drew them to a halt.

Begrudgingly, he dropped his arm, but then he felt couldn’t resist the temptation this partnership had granted him, so he dared to raise a hand to touch his fingers to the nape of Nesta’s neck. As well as being self-indulgent, it was also a gesture of intimacy that he thought would make Nesta least uncomfortable. It was a self-indulgent move, something that sung intimacy and was designed to stake a claim. Because he had seen the way in which Kallon had stared at Nesta. The way he had tried to scent for a bond or claim on her. The gleam in Kallon’s eyes had told Cassian he was not wholly convinced about their claim of being partners, enough for him to prod and poke about Cassian’s bastard status and Nesta’s bedding habits. To see what they said and how they behaved.

And whilst Illyrian males were not overly affectionate with their partners in public, Cassian never intended to take a wife who he did not openly cherish.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked softly.

To his surprise, Nesta did not flinch. Instead, she turned into his touch, lifting those smoky blue eyes to his as if this impromptu dance they were orchestrating was as natural as breathing. That she hadn’t just been called out on her promiscuous behaviour and her continual rejection of him.

She gave a short nod. “Please.”

Her expression, Cassian noted, might be carefully blank, but her eyes were readable to him. He had spent four months living with her. Had learnt to dissect every hollowed out stare and every dulled light whenever she was unguarded enough to let him. And whilst Cassian had expected Nesta to wear the mask she so habitually wore, her eyes were open enough for him to know that she was still angry.

Sweeping up four goblets of wine from the closest servant, Cassian tried not to mourn the loss of Nesta’s skin beneath his fingertips. Frawley flicked her hands casually at both Lorrian’s and Nesta’s drinks, turning the wine to juice before either of them had a moment to comment.

“I could do with some wine,” Lorrian confessed to Cassian in a low, bitter tone as Nesta turned to respond to something Frawley had just said. His friend’s face was wholly impassive to the outsider, but Cassian knew Lorrian well enough to catch the slightly mournful look in the Lorrian’s eyes as he glanced down into the depths of his goblet. “I give it five minutes until I have a war-lord upon me demanding for an update on the state of the aerial fleet.” He cast a slow, hard look around the room. It was a look that Cassian had honed himself over centuries of learning how to assert authority. “That being said,” Lorrian continued, “I think that could have gone a lot worse.”

Cassian grunted, the sensation making his chest jolt and his armour clink. “Speak for yourself.”

Lorrian shot Cassian an apologetic look. He watched Cassian take a deep sip from his goblet. At least the wine was good, Cassian thought bitterly, as if the silver lining would smooth over the battering he’d just received.

“If it’s any consolation, my brother has been sneering at me since we set foot in the room,” Lorrian admitted to Cassian, as if he knew what Cassian was thinking. “I’d sell my other arm in a wager that he’ll have strut over here by the end of this damn luncheon to give me hell.”

It was intended to be a joke but Cassian knew how sensitive Lorrian was about his missing limb. And understandably so. Illyrians were cruel at the best of times, but to have already been referred to as an Incomplete was enough to have a traumatised warrior drowning in a sense of underserved dishonour.

Like Cassian, Lorrian was resplendent today in his black scaled armour, and his right arm glowed a soft emerald from where he had used his magic to temporarily reinstate his limb. “At least we took Frawley’s poison blocker before we left,” Lorrian continued to mutter under his breath. “I bet the majority of this room would take great joy in our deaths.”

Another grunt from Cassian—this time one of agreement. He glanced down into his goblet which was now empty. It was not like him to drink so quickly in the company of the lords, but Kallon had Cassian’s anger pushing at his skin, ready to jump to the forefront with one sneering look.

He lifted his eyes to search for another servant, but the same female Marsh had snapped at earlier—Maya—appeared at his left-hand side with a silver pitcher of wine as if she had been watching him.

The first thing Cassian noticed about the widow was that she had large, almond shaped hazel eyes that were so light, they were almost amber. Her long, ebony hair was fashioned into a double bun at the nape of her neck—a style at odds with her servant status—and on the inside of her wrist, as she lifted her arm to pour him a drink, Cassian spied a tattoo of a sun and moon.

A twin.

Cassian was so distracted by the ink that he didn’t realise he had moved his goblet away until it was too late. The wine spilled over the rim of the cup and onto the flagstone floor, the red liquid splattering over his leg and onto the back of Nesta’s dress.

Maya’s eyes went as round as saucers and he saw the panic flood her expression in a way that told Cassian she was not treated well in the Marsh residence. Nesta turned around sharply, most presumably, from feeling the females terror with her magic.

“I—I am so sorry, my lord,” Maya stammered. Her eyes, which had been dutifully downcast, had snapped up in alarm to connect with his. “Please, let me clean this up. I—”

But Cassian only shook his head, wordlessly taking the handkerchief Lorrian passed to him and took a deliberate step backwards so Maya was deliberately placed in front of him. “I think you will find that it is me who should be apologising,” Cassian corrected kindly. “I moved my goblet.”

He turned to Nesta. “Are you wet?” he asked, holding out the handkerchief to her before even thinking about drying off his wine-covered hand.

“I’m fine,” Nesta replied, shaking her head. She had not made any movements to draw attention to herself like many other females would have done. It was as if she, too, had deduced that if Marsh was to catch wind of the incident, Maya would be cast out into the cold. “It’s only a little on the bottom of my skirts. It will soon dry.”

Maya’s eyes slowly fell to the floor at Nesta’s words. They widened in horror at the spatters of red that had already seeped into the light fabric.

“I am not wed to this dress,” Nesta assured Maya. Her usually clipped manner had fallen into something softer and more sincere. It was a voice she used with a fair few: Elain, Roksana and Mas. Sometimes him.

Sometimes.

Cassian pressed his lips together to stop himself from protesting. Because whilst Nesta might claim not be wedded to her dress, he certainly was. The floating material was the colour of dusky cornflower, a shade which made Nesta’s irises so light they shimmered ice blue. The effect was so startling Cassian’s heart had stopped when she’d opened her bedroom door that morning. If he hadn’t been so nervous he would have probably gone to hell with it all and bent his head to press his lips with hers. Instead, he had stared into those mesmerising eyes and, for a moment, forgotten the silver chain that was burning into his fist.

Avoiding the puddle of wine, Nesta stepped deliberately closer to Cassian, using their bodies to shield the spillage from the war-lord’s table. She touched his arm with her fingertips and looked up at him. “It’s nothing our housekeeper can’t fix. Isn’t that right, amore?”

For a moment, Cassian stared at Nesta, unable to process that she had not only spoke a word of Illyrian, but the term of endearment he had used earlier. Her voice was matter-of-fact, but there was something lacing the words that made him, for a stupid second, believe she meant it.

“Our housekeeper is very skilled,” Cassian assured Maya, allowing a rare smile to slip across his expression. “It won’t be an issue.”

But Maya was still pale. Her eyes slid past them, to the war-lord sat at the far end of the room.

“He can’t see you, Maya,” Cassian assured the servant evenly, as he finished wiping the wine away from his arm and sleeve. When he was finished, he wound an arm around Nesta’s waist, intending to pull her closer to his body, but she moved for him, moulding her curves against his hard lines, blocking Marsh completely from view. Jasmine and vanilla washed over him, the scent a relief. He rubbed a thumb over the fabric of her dress in thanks for playing along. For the blessing of having her pressed up against him.

“I can take care of it.” Frawley took a small step forward to close their circle.

She held out her goblet purposefully outwards, as if she were in need of a refill, and Maya tentatively topped up her a drink as Frawley subtly flicked her fingers. The puddle of wine and the stain on Nesta’s dress vanished.

Again, Maya’s eyes widened, but she was clever enough not to make any kind of movement to attract attention.

“Th-Thank you, my lord. My ladies,” Maya said gratefully, the clear relief in her voice enough to make Cassian angry. When would the injustices inflicted on Illyrians by Illyrians stop? Cassian had no doubt Maya had been mistreated, despite the fact that her twin status must provide her with a certain amount of protection. Illyrians were a superstitious race and would not risk the wrath of the Gods for casting a twin out into the cold.

In fact, Cassian was surprised that Marsh dared to keep her as a servant at all. Usually twins were the only low-born Illyrians that were established into civil society. And they were always low-born and always unbelievably rare. More often than not they were the product of lords unable to keep their cocks in their pants outside of their marriage bed.

Holding back a grimace, Cassian made himself nod at Maya as she bobbed a perfect curtsey to each of them, her golden eyes downcast and submissive, before she took leave.

Curiously, Cassian cocked his head at the widow as she quickly disappeared into the crowds, no doubt to find solace in the kitchens for a moments reprieve.

“Do you know who that was?”

Lorrian’s voice brought Cassian out of his thoughts, and he dragged his eyes away from Maya’s retreating figure to look at his friend. He continued to slowly rub his thumb over Nesta’s ribcage, the curve of her bone beneath the his skin a comfort, somehow.

“No,” he admitted to Lorrian, because he didn’t.

“That’s the widow of Halias Marsh.”

Cassian caught the eyebrows that wanted to disappear into his hairline just in time. “Marsh’s younger brother?”

Halias had not been alive in Cassian’s lifetime, but he knew that he had been a cruel male who had made Anguis Marsh look positively sweet in comparison. Whilst Anguis was known for his sharp, cunning intellect, Halias had been made of a brute strength which had led to an arrogance and dominance both inside and outside the sparring ring. It had been no secret that the brothers had an ongoing rivalry, with Halias believing he was best suited to the role of prince. When Halias had died in a fire, there had been rumours that Marsh had orchestrated his brother’s death, but those sorts of whisperings weren’t uncommon amongst the Illyrian camps, where everyone was out for glory at the expense of others.

“Yes,” Lorrian confirmed in a low voice.

“What happened to her twin?” Cassian asked with a frown.

As Cassian and Azriel’s self-appointed guardian, Rhys’s mother had done her best to teach them the history of the Illyrian camps and the war-lords family trees. They had been lessons which Cassian had found inanely dull at the time, usually because he had been exhausted from a rigorous day of training. But he did remember learning that the Ironcrest brothers had secured twins for brides. He also recalled that it had caused uproar amongst the clans at the time. Twins were rare in Prythian and a symbol of fertility, power and good luck. As was usual for twins, they weren’t of high status, but had been plucked from the mud and inserted into elevated society from birth—reared for the two princelings for when they came of age.

The tattoo Cassian had spied on Maya’s wrist was a part of Illyrian culture. When twins were born, they were marked with the tattoo of a sun and moon: separate yet integral to one another, forever entwined. They were said to be a gift from the Gods: fertile and harbouring power beyond reckoning which would be passed down to their offspring. Their wings were cut at birth. Twins were too precious to risk flying away when they could produce offspring with hearty Killing Power.

“Her twin died in the fire with Halias. I believe she was called Lyanne.”

It was Frawley who had spoken and Cassian looked at her with a frown on his face. “With her twin’s husband?”

“It was quite the scandal at the time,” Frawley said in low tones. “Her twin sister was married to Marsh but sleeping with his brother. I’m surprised you have not heard of it before.”

“Marsh loved his first wife.” It was Nesta who had spoken, and Cassian instinctively tightened his arm around her. “I felt his pain when he looked at Maya. It ran deep, as if he could not bare to look at her.”

That would explain why Marsh had not taken Maya as his wife, Cassian thought. To be wed to a replica but know that they were not the Fae you loved… The heartache would be too much, especially if the female you had given your heart to had bedded his brother, and whilst Marsh was cold beyond reckoning, it was interesting to know there was a side of him that was warm-blooded.

“I bet there’s a reason she’s not in the widows camp,” Lorrian said quietly, and Cassian’s eyes snapped to his friends so quickly his neck cricked.

His neck burned but he was too busy processing what Lorrian was saying. To think that Marsh had kept his wife’s sister in his residence so she could warm his bed when he willed it… the hairs on his arm stood up and something inside of him recoiled, even as he knew that it was incredibly likely. It would explain how well-kept Maya was. How, like Lorrian had said, she had not been turned out into the widows camp and into the cold.

“How long have you known that?” Cassian demanded quietly.

Beside him, Nesta had turned rigid. He didn’t have to look at her to know her skin had turned pale. And despite their constricted bond he felt an unfathomable icy rage force its way down the tether of twisted rope to meet his own.

He did not look at Nesta as he sent an emotion to soothe. A heat to lick against their anger until it had thawed.

He dragged his thumb across her rib cage in a slow, deliberate motion. He felt her let out a long, measure breath.

“I don’t know it,” Lorrian corrected Cassian smoothly, as if he were discussing the weather, not wanting to raise his voice so others could hear. His eyes burned when they connected wth Cassian’s. “But it would be interesting to find out, wouldn’t it?”

By the time Cassian and Lorrian headed into the Rite meeting, Cassian wanted to leave Ironcrest so fiercely that he had almost refused to leave Nesta behind. As usual, as the lords consumed more wine throughout the luncheon, they seemed to overcome their disdain at approaching rival clans. It result in the pursuit of a kind of hostile, verbal swordplay that reaffirmed why no-one had been permitted to enter the residence with a weapon.

Not, Cassian thought grimly, that it would stop any of them from magicking one with their siphons anyway.

Icor Condor—Lorrian’s brother—had been the first to stride over to them and interrupt their conversation to publicly sneer at his sibling

Despite being the eldest of the two, Lorrian had lost his right as princeling heir when he had left the camp for Frawley’s heart. When their late father had died, his brother Icor had inherited the status of war-lord, much to his pleasure and Lorrian’s disgust.

Icor was Lorrian’s sole sibling, and at a first glance, the two of them were almost identical in looks. It was only on closer inspection that one noticed the unrelenting hardness to Icor’s dark features—something that was due to the constant state of stark displeasure that hung across his expression. He was also slightly broader in build, the twisted cords of his muscles pushing against what Cassian suspected was too-small armour, and whilst Icor’s eyes were technically hazel, the majority of the time they were a light, unnerving jade.

To the untrained eye, it was Icor who appeared more formidable. But outcast or no outcast, Lorrian was the finest cut of Forktail princeling, made for the skies in a way his brother was not. And whilst Icor was undeniably an exceptional warrior—his primary skill was with the spear—Forktail’s ancestry boasted formidable warriors from the skies, and Icor had been loath to forget it.

To his credit, Lorrian had appeared completely unaffected as his brother barrelled insult after insult his way, but when Frawley’s ice eye had glowed brightly with threat, Icor had taken sudden leave, claiming that he couldn’t stand to breathe the air of someone who was not only Incomplete but a defector of his race, as well.

Nesta had dug her fingers so hard into Cassian’s armour at that point that Cassian had thought her fire might beat Frawley’s own magic to throwing itself across the room and hitting Icor square in the chest.

Now, Lorrian and Cassian followed the rest of the war-lords as they made their way to the war-room, which was situated in the right-hand wing of the residence.

They had barely had time to say goodbye as Frawley and Nesta were ushered into the parlour with the war-lords and Rite representatives partners. Frawley’s eyes had gleamed as she and Nesta floated from the room, and Cassian knew that the witch hoped to wheedle out some information from the females whilst their husbands weren’t by their sides.

The issue of oppressing others, Frawley had said the evening prior, when they were hashing out their plans, was that oppressors had a tendency to become over-confident and over-trusting in their tyranny; so sure of their unwavering power over others that their mouths became loose. And if the females did prefer to keep quiet due to fear of being found out by their husbands, Nesta would sense it.

It was, Frawley had insisted, a win-win situation, and Cassian would have been inclined to agree, if the Illyrians didn't harbour such a fear of outsiders, especially those that were not only powerful but looked terrifying, as well.

Lorrian, Cassian had noticed, hadn’t pointed that out to his wife. Nor had he reminded her that her independently moving eyes had a tendency to put Fae on edge rather than at ease.

Which, Cassian thought with a near huff of laughter, probably made Nesta the most approachable out of the two of them.

That knowledge grew inside of his mind until he wanted to howl, and he clamped his lips tightly together to stop a sound from escaping.

He supposed it was a good sign that he could still find humour in things, especially when he had a looming sense of dread that everything was about to go southward.

“She will be fine,” Lorrian told Cassian, frowning at his friend as they walked through the dimly lit corridors which were darkened all the more by heavy tapestries. “Nesta is more than capable of looking after herself, and she has Frawley with her. They are probably safest with the females, anyway.”

Cassian didn’t want to explain the reason for his expression, so he just nodded. It wasn’t as if he liked being separated from Nesta. The more time they spent together, the more he dreaded their time apart. It was a constant sort of worry that gnawed at his insides and made him feel as if someone had ripped a limb clean off his body. And since Nesta had nearly died healing Mas, Cassian had started to experience incandescent, sporadic flashes of panic that Nesta was dying and he did not know. That she was suffering and he was not there to ease it, even as reason told him that anything that urgent would fly down their shared tether.

“That’s what it was like with Frawley,” Lorrian added to Cassian, his hazel eyes discerning as they followed the hulking, retreating backs of the other war-lords.

“What it was like?” Cassian repeated, feigning confusion. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to partake in the discussion.

But Lorrian only dipped his chin. “It’s when I knew we would be chroí . After we were joined, it felt like the greatest relief, as if a spool of yarn had been pulled tight between us but now it could just… exist. Relax a little.”

Cassian thought of the constricted tether between them and the way his light was desperate to push against the inner walls, until that rope had widened into a tunnel clear of brambles.

Not once had Cassian spoken with Lorrian or Frawley about Nesta. About how he was in so deep that sometimes he thought that if she were ever to reject him again he wouldn't be able to climb out of the pit he had fallen into. Both of his friends were sharp enough to have dissected his feelings, he wasn’t naive enough to pretend otherwise. He had never introduced them to a female before, had never allowed them to get to know someone so intimately that was clearly not a friend.

Not that Cassian knew what he and Nesta were. Wouldn’t dare to ask for fear of ruining it all.

And his friends had not pressed him for more information or, to his knowledge, asked Nesta about the two of them. The latter of which he was immensely thankful for.

Yet, that didn’t mean that Cassian hadn’t felt Frawley’s ice blue eye swivel carefully between the two of them, or Lorrian’s knowing smile as Nesta joined in with his friend to torment him.

In fact, the only thing Frawley had commented on was her fondness for Nesta.

“I hope we get to keep her, Cassian,” the witch had said sternly when he had arrived at the cottage earlier that week, as if, ironically, the decision was up to him. Then, without commenting on how premature his arrival was, Frawley had waved impatiently to the back door, “She’s training with Lorrian.”

Having been thoroughly dismissed, Cassian had headed into the backyard to find the paddock to the left of the barn had been cleared of its usual horses. Instead, Nesta stood at a shooting line that Cassian suspected had been made by Lorrian dragging the toe of his boot through the mud. At the far end of the ring —20 metres or so away—stood an archery target.

His friend had not turned as Cassian drew up beside him. Instead, they had both watched in silence as Nesta pulled back the bow string with a strength that no other Illyrian female possessed before releasing it.

Together, they watched an arrow fly across the clearing and hit clean into the outer yellow ring of the target. Lorrian had still not looked at Cassian, had only kept his arms crossed firmly over his chest as they watched Nesta stride over to the target on her long legs to collect her arrows.

“You’ve met your match,” was all Lorrian eventually said, shaking his head in disbelief, before he went over to correct Nesta on her stance.

Now, Cassian glanced sideways at his friend. Lorrian’s eyes were full of a shared understanding that Cassian could not bear. So he looked away, and before he could stop the words, he admitted tightly—quietly, “It’s going to be the death of me.”

Ahead of them, the heavy double doors of the war-room came looming into view, and with it, another layer of dread. Cassian flared his siphons, breaking the sound bubble Lorrian had encased them in, and stalked into the room.

Marsh was already seated at the long, wooden table. He had left the drawing room well before the rest of them, no doubt to hide the extent of his illness, but Cassian could almost taste death on the war-lord.

The others could, too. Those sharp, beady eyes never missed a thing. And if they had not gleaned it for themselves, the way in which Kallon seated himself beside his father was enough of an indication of who was truly intending to run the meeting.

There was a growing expectancy in the air. The deafening kind that was almost like a ringing silence, even as chairs scraped against flagstones and war-lords muttered to their Rite representatives, who took a seat beside them.

It did not escape Cassian that one of Ragar’s friends was seated beside Devlon. That beside the other war-lords, Cassian recognised lordlings who had been reported to have met with Kallon all those weeks ago.

That sense of apprehension intensified, but Cassian settled his wings over his chair and waited for the first war-lord to break the silence. Even as his mind worked at a hundred miles per minute, trying to piece together what he was clearly not seeing.

Unsurprisingly, it was Icor who finally broke the silence. “A representative can’t take place in the Rite,” Lorrian’s brother sneered from where he sat opposite Cassian and Lorrian, his lip already curled as he narrowed his eyes at Kallon.

The princeling did not rise to the barb. He only settled back into his chair with an unrivalled arrogance and smoothness that made Cassian want to smack him in the face. It was an action that almost reminded Cassian of Rhys when he was playing wicked, but there was something impossibly cold and threatening beneath the movement which set Kallon apart from his brother. It made Cassian want to sit up straighter, but he did not allow himself to do it. To let others know that Kallon held his attention so fiercely.

“I am aware of that, Icor,” Kallon replied, once he had taken his time getting comfortable. “I do not intend to partake in the Rite this year.”

Not a murmur ran down the table, but the air became tight and pregnant again. Expectant. It was almost unheard of for a princeling not to partake in the Rite past a certain age, and Kallon was near twenty-five.

It meant that he would not earn siphons of his own for another year.

It was an unusual move, especially given that Kallon was trying to stake authority amongst the Illyrians. Siphons were the quickest way to earn respect amongst Cassian’s race. It was why they begrudgingly accepted Cassian.

Kallon’s birth as a princeling meant that he was born with a natural amount of Killing Power that superseded low-born foot soldiers. Azriel’s information had detailed that Kallon usually trained with three siphons in the sparring ring. That although he was green, he was better than most with the Illyrian saber. That since he had been training with the sword he claimed to be Enalius’s, he had taken to using a fourth siphon to contain the Killing Power that seemed to still be growing within him.

That, in itself, was a worry. Cassian’s Killing Power had reached its maturity at the age of twenty-five, training with seven borrowed siphons in the sparring ring until he finally earned his jewels after the Blood Rite.

The Siphon Master had not hesitated in giving Cassian siphons the colour of blood.

For the blood glory you will earn in battle, ratnik, the Siphon Master had said at the Rite ceremony, as he placed red siphons atop Cassian’s hands, on his knee caps, his upper arms… And across his heart, a flawless star ruby. Even now, Cassian remembered how the jewel had beat a deep, dark red that took on a blueish hue, as if it were kicking into life for the first time. Cassian remembered the gratification that had flickered over the Siphon Master’s face as the ruby did not shatter but became an additional heart, pulsing gently in the spring light.

“Shall we begin, Father?”

This time, every war-lord bristled as Kallon spoke. Somehow, the air became even thicker. A princeling did not order a prince. Yet, Marsh only raked his shrewd eyes over every single male in challenge, before he waved a trembling hand at his son, commanding him to start.

Kallon stood with a confidence that superseded his age; as if he were a messenger sent by the Gods and had the intention of delivering a fucking sermon. Cassian’s stomach dropped leaden to his toes at the same time that his blood began to boil beneath his skin.

Beside him, Lorrian stiffened, as if he too knew that they had been foiled, even though neither of them had yet learnt why.

“Many of you are probably wondering why my father and I have called this meeting early,” Kallon started. The princeling stood tall, his feet slightly apart, his shoulders squared, his wings held up high… A warrior’s stance. But there was something infuriatingly relaxed about his posture, as if commanding an audience was all completely natural to him.

“Tradition states that the first Rite counsel is not held until the new year, but given that Ironcrest is hosting the ceremony this year, we thought it made sense to arrange for this meeting to coincide with the Solstice luncheon.”

There was a pause in which Kallon looked around the room. His voice was too cordial for an Illyrian, especially a princeling, and if it were not for that unfathomable chill to his voice—a carved out emptiness—Cassian would have been willing to bet that he would have been sneered back into his seat. And of course, there was arrogance, too. An entitlement that came with those born into wealth.

“Since Enalius gifted our ancestors with a drop of his power and we were able to mine siphons, the Blood Rite has become the most important tradition in our culture,” Kallon continued. “Illyrians produce the best warriors Prythian has ever seen. Our bloody history shows that whilst we are perceived by High Fae and many others of our kind to be the lowest of faeries, we are triumphant in battle and far supersede not only the Night Courts forces, but the forces in every other court. We Illyrians are relied upon for our gifts, but we are treated as disposable when our talents are not required. The recent kerit attacks on our camps has highlighted what we have known for centuries; that the Night Court does not care about our race to provide sufficient protection.”

Another cessation of speech for what Cassian expected was not for Kallon to catch his breath, but to allow his words to settle. All of the war-lords and representatives remained eerily silent, and whilst they had originally sat forward as if they were waiting to jump in and protest, they were now stock still, drawn in by the words that they all already believed to be true.

“We suffered many losses in the war against Hybern,” Kallon pushed on. “Forces across all of our camps are drained and depleted. Whilst the Rite is an important part of who we are, the loss of more Illyrian lives would be the greatest sin. Enalius gifted all of our families with a drop of his blood so we could ensure that the Illyrian lines did not die out. That we could continue to perform our duty to honour and protect. My father and I have called you here today to consider a hiatus on the Blood Rite. To focus instead on strengthening our troops rather than inflicting more bloodshed upon our kind.”

Silence fell again as Kallon stopped talking. As, with a sweeping look around the table, the princeling sat back down and leant back into his chair with a superior expression on his face. No doubt a sense of achievement that he had captivated the hostile war-lords for enough time to say exactly what he intended. To plant the seeds in the minds of those who already did not look favourably towards their High Lord’s rule.

Lord Alcathoe was the first to snap. The war-lord from Swallow’s Ridge leant forward, his expression dark and openly aggressive. “The Blood Rite has been performed every year without fail. What claim do you have to suggest a hiatus?”

“We have not ceased the Rite in the aftermath of war before,” Lord Hamel added. Hamel’s voice was monotone and bored, but Cassian had learnt from his many visits to Craggs Peak that the war-lord was as vicious as any of the other males around the table—worse than some, actually. One misplaced word and the war-lord was known to explode.

Cassian thought it only a matter of time until everyone at the table witnessed it.

“I don’t think a young whelp who has not fought in a war or earned his own siphons should be leading a discussion in which he has no place.”

“Watch your mouth, Hamel,” Marsh snarled in warning. “My son is smarter than all of your offspring, both the bastards and your true heirs. If you have any true heirs, that is.”

Hamel’s answering snarl had him rising out of his seat. The war-lord’s face had turned purple with rage and his teeth were bared. Spittle flew across the wooden surface of the strategy table. “If you weren’t already on your death bed, Marsh, I’d—”

“It is true that I do not yet own my own siphons and that I have not yet fought in a war,” Kallon interrupted, standing again with a flare of his wings. The sound snapped around the room, like a nine-tail whip cracking against skin. “But I see what our race has suffered at the hands of the Night Court. We are treated as expendable and as bodies rather than being valued for who we are and what we stand for. To put a hiatus on the Blood Rite will allow us to become stronger. It will allow our warriors to become proficient in the art of battle and for our numbers to rise. We cannot afford to lose any more warriors.”

The blood in Hamel’s face was slowly draining from purple to red. Still angry, but not as if he was going to self-combust. The war-lord had sunk back down into his seat, and it was clear that an internal conflict was going on in his mind; as he decided what held greater importance, his hatred of Anguis Marsh and his son, or his opinions on Night Court affairs.

And the issue was that whilst there were statements of Kallon’s that were wrong—namely that the war was not an Illyrian cause and that Rhys saw the Illyrians as disposable— the princeling was also right. The Illyrians could not afford to lose any more warrior blood in the upcoming Rite. It was an issue Cassian had deliberated over repeatedly. One he had brought up with Rhys and Azriel. A problem they had decided not to interfere with for fear that it would set the Illyrians against them even further.

But what Kallon was doing… it was clever. It played on the Illyrians sensibilities and the ever-growing notion that they should not be ruled by Rhys’s hand. And if Kallon could get the war-lords to agree… he would be seen as a martyr, whilst the Night Court would be viewed as complacent in further deaths of the Illyrian race.

It would gain him support amongst the most influential of the Illyrians. It would strengthen the dissent. And if the war-lords made it clear that they were openly opposing Rhys’s rule, then many more Illyrians would follow their example.

As if Kallon knew he was triumphant, he pinned Cassian with a stare. “Do you not agree, General? We have suffered the death of an entire aerial legion, plus many of our strongest warriors against Hybern. Surely you cannot argue that we should go ahead with the Blood Rite rather than strengthen our forces before we allow ourselves to suffer any more losses?”

Cassian and Lorrian were rabbits caught in a hunters snare and Kallon knew it.

“The Night Court agrees that we cannot afford to lose any more males in the Blood Rite,” Cassian replied, his voice so deep and commanding that he did not recognise his true self—the part of him that was not General but Fae. “Should another war come to Illyria, we need to ensure we can protect our kind and those throughout our court. A reprieve from the Blood Rite is the best way to prevent further bloodshed.”

A growl sounded from Icor. It was an abrupt, guttural sound that sounded too much like a temper tantrum. He had no doubt been expecting Cassian to side with him. “You have not answered the question, princeling. What right do you have to suggest a hiatus?”

Across his cruel face, Icor looked briefly triumphant. A petulant child believing he’d won a game rather than contemplating the life or death of his best warriors. “So tell me, what right do we have to interfere with the will of our warrior Gods?”

“My son has been chosen by the Gods. By Enalius himself.” Marsh’s grating voice was deep and commanding. Forceful.

A dismissive snort. “I do not think—” Icor started, but Marsh dismissed Forktail’s war-lord entirely, and looked towards his son. His heir.

“Show them,” Marsh ordered Kallon with a wave of his hand.

The princeling turned his head in a way that was more automaton than Fae. He looked towards the doors, where a male steward wearing Ironcrest colours stepped out of the shadows.

In that moment, Cassian wished Nesta was in the room with them, if only to sense the emotions of every single war-lord as their lofty expressions turned carefully blank. As their eyes fell to the sword laying atop a velvet-crushed cushion the colour of mustard.

Enalius’s sword. Or at least, a sword with ancient magical properties.

Cassian could feel the hum of it in his blood—his magic—turning over inside of him, pressing against his skin as if it was trying to leap from his body and join with the steel. His siphons pulsed, his star ruby beating like a star-blessed heart. And from the look on every other males face, they could sense the magic of it, too.

The sword looked exactly as it did in the drawing printed in Heroicis. The sword Cassian had committed to memory as a youngling, as he stared at that inked drawing—the only thing he could understand as an illiterate bastard trying to make sense of a book full of words. The blade was arced, the steel etched with the Illyrian marks of glory that each of the war-lords wore on their own skin. The curved bone pommel gleamed as if it had been recently polished, even though the handle looked well-worn and cracked.

Just as Frawley had reported, the oval jewel was missing from where it should sit on the wide guard.

Cassian knew without Frawley having to confirm it—with a certainty that was completely devoid of doubt—that Kallon was presenting them with Enalius’s sword.

And worse, that the princeling would gain the begrudging respect of the males around this table for it.

Tags: @arin1030 @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @iammissstark @lovelynesta @melphss @nestalytical @darkshadowqueensrule @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @grouchycritic7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @princessconsuela02 @lavendergoomsltd @little-diyosa @princessofmerchants-reads @jeakat @sjm-things @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta @inyourmindeye @amelie775 @iwastoowildinthe70s @helen-the-weirdo @pizzaneverdisappoints

#embersandlightfic #embers and light #nessianfic #nessian #nesta x cassian #acotarfanfiction #acotar #acofas #acosf #cassianfic #cassian #nestaarcheron #nestafic

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tea-and-spoons · 3 years

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Today’s Tips: Safety

Hello hello! This is a super important topic, and also oddly enough one that was missed by most of my care team. SO, I’m here to give you all my best advice for how to stay safe when you have a chronic illness/rare disease/disability. This is written from my perspective as someone with idiopathic anaphylaxis (translation: random life threatening allergic reactions) but also applies to anyone with severe allergies or asthma, a seizure disorder, diabetes... really any condition that has dangerous flare ups, or would significantly affect how you need to be treated in an emergency. Let’s get started!

-Medical ID bracelets! Or necklaces, or I’ve even seen tags that go on your shoelaces. The point is to have a little tag visible on you that lists your basic information. This probably includes your full name, your relevant diagnoses (anaphylaxis, heart condition, epilepsy- whatever the Big Ones are for you), any key medications you’re on (such as beta blockers, blood thinners, or insulin), and possibly an emergency contact. If you are deaf, non-verbal, or have low vision, those might also be important to include. You only get 4-ish lines, so pick whatever is the most key information for first responders to know how to help you. The trick with choosing a medical ID is finding one that is recognizable as a med ID, and also something you’ll actually wear! I’d personally recommend an engraved stainless steel tag with the caduceus on it (that’s a symbol for medical things, I’ll add a picture at the bottom of this post). The chain can be anything you want as long as it’s reasonably strong. I would also suggest something that can get wet so you can leave it on in the shower or for swimming. I wear my med ID bracelet all the time to be extra safe, but it’s especially important when you’re alone and/or not at home. I also have a similar tag on my backpack that says my epipens are inside.

-Medical ID on smartphone. If you have an iPhone, you can fill out the medical ID in your health app and set it to be visible even if your phone is locked. To view it, hold both side buttons at the same time. If you have an Android, you’ll have to download an app for this. Or, I’ve also seen some people set a screenshot of emergency information as their lock screen. That way people won’t have to search for it either.

-Index cards with emergency info. I carry a set of brightly colored index cards with me everywhere that have all my emergency info on them. That way, instead of having to remember details when I’m in anaphylaxis (very hard, would not recommend), I can just hand these cards to the paramedics. I have a card that lists all of my medications and doses, one for all my allergies, one with emergency contacts (doctors and family members), and one with all my other relevant info (name, birthday/age, height and weight, medical conditions, preferred hospital, and insurance information). If you have a rare disease, I would also suggest a card that gives the basics of what your condition is. A website about your condition might even have a premade card you can print for this exact purpose!

-Record keeping. In general, it’s really helpful to find a system that works for you to keep track of your symptoms, treatments, appointments, and/or testing. That way you can always go look things up when new doctors are asking you a million questions! Mine is just a notebook organized by date, but I’ve also seen binders, apps, filing systems, and computer folders. Just something that works for how you think and when this information will be needed- bonus points if you pick a pretty something that will make you a little happier when dealing with medical stuff:) Aside from the day to day benefits, this record can also serve as an important safety tool. If you’re too sick to answer questions yourself, your records become a super useful resource for whoever is helping you. It can also help you remember important details from appointments that might be relevant when making treatment decisions later on. Even if you never need it for emergency reasons, I still highly recommend keeping good notes on your medical things. Future you and future medical professionals will be glad you did!

Since this topic is so important (and also a little heavy, and somewhat lengthy), I’m going to split it up into two posts. Part 2 will be up soon, but please feel free to ask me questions about part 1 in the meantime.

Oh, and here’s what the caduceus/star of life looks like, although it’s not always blue:

[image description: Blue shape made of six intersecting rectangles to look like a six sided star with square points. In the middle is a white pole with a snake wrapped around it. End image description]

Image source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_of_Life

#medical id #chronic illness #rare disease #disability #chronic illness advice #epipens #food allergies #anaphylaxis #diabetes #epilepsy #heart condition #POTS #postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome #ehlers danlos syndrome #asthma #marfan syndrome #teaandspoons

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1ddotdhq · 4 years

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☀️ Mon 26 Oct ‘20 Part 1 💙

Tell us a story about love, Harry, the fans demanded, and give it a happy ending. In a way, he did that, but it isn’t what you’d expect. Instead of creating a standard love story, the Golden video was an ode to joy: goofy and joyful and playful and FUN which is really what a good love story should be - a true love letter to the song! It dropped at 12 pm EST (which was an hour EARLIER than Sony Italia said it would) and was entirely Harry goofing off and running (literally running) around the Italian coast. Earlier today, AP dropped an interview with him talking about Golden, among other things, and he’d said about the song, “it’s one of the first songs when I was making the album and it's always been a source of joy for me. And I wanted to make a video that encapsulated that. I’d like to think it will maybe cheer a couple of people up. Cheered me up!” The video cheered me up immensely, too, and I particularly liked the costumes: alongside the Steven Daley floral pants and fisherman’s hat we saw the other day, he included a blue (yes, that blue) blazer over a striped blue and white shirt, complete with tattered vans on his feet, the flowy shirt we’d seen him wear in filming, and his swim shorts! And don't worry darlings, it is still a Harry video, he IS submerged in water at one point (as is the camera, giving us some nice Eroda!fish POV shots.) Remember those pap shots of him and Molly Hawkins at the pool where everyone was like “we CAN’T TALK ABOUT IT the paps INVADED HIS PRIVACY”? Well, no, actually, it was for the music video - He’s even wearing that blue daffodil Eliou necklace in both the video and the picture! There were no other characters to introduce in the video, it was just him joking around, except for a motorcyclist with a neon green helmet and a few old women at the very end who’d car Harry decided to climb. You can sort of see her waving at him to get off of her car and him just...giggling at her and popping his ankle into the air like the queen he is. What was notably MISSING from the video was: the boat scenes, the purple gown outfit, and the vespa! I wonder what happened to those shots? I’d very much like to see that footage if HSHQ wants to release a director’s cut for the video, but as we know that Ben Winston had a hand in producing this, and given his history of withholding footage, I wouldn’t hold my breath….

Is that it for Harry? *Checks notes* why NO it is NOT! Well, okay, first, let’s talk about the reaction to the video: fans love it! It’s everything we wanted but never expected! Parallels have been made between the outfit he wore in Golden and WMYB wayyy back in the day, and it’s true: semi-longhaired Harry wearing striped shirts HAS made a comeback almost ten years later! It’s like his own little version of the ‘how it started...how it’s going’ memes going around. Harry Lambert posted tons of behind the scenes shots, including one of Harry in a feathered Steven Dayler hat, and Harry himself posted a picture to his instagram of him throwing up the middle finger by biting the lace glove and pulling it off of his hand! He’s in the Louis blue blazer and it's a very funny and cute picture and it reminds us that Louis does NOT have a monopoly on middle finger pictures: Harry can pull them off too THANK YOU VERY MUCH! This picture was a super popular one; it was liked by Helene Horlyck, Gene Gallagher, Sandy Beales, Harry Lambert, and even Micheal Blackwell (Louis’ guitarist!). Harris Reed - who can’t help themselves, they’re as in love with that color blue as we are - “The colour of dreams 💙” . They were not the only blue heart in the comments, lots of people chimed in with their 💙💙 love - MTV even made a (joking) post speculating that it was Louis in car that Harry crawled on, and Eliou was discovered to sell both middle finger candles (suggested color: blue) and peace sign candle (suggested color: green). I...want them both. Helene Pambrun then added to the Harry praise by celebrating her third anniversary with the team (“~ 3 years ago [Harry] opened a new chapter of my life”), thanking him for the opportunity, but also perhaps saying goodbye? She says, “There is still a long way to find who I really am and what I want/need to be...what I know, though is that I certainly miss all of those faces who I’ve been...sharing the last 3 years [with]”. I guess we’ll find out sooner or later if she’s still around, but her pictures have been a joy!

And now for the news I don’t think anyone was expecting: Harry is investing in a new stadium in Manchester that aims to add jobs to the economy, engage the community, and create a space that musicians would want to play at as well as a welcoming space for fans. He mentions how much he misses live music (hey we have a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert video for you!) and how Manchester was his hometown, which made this a very personal investment for him. Building a new arena may seem highly counterintuitive at a moment when arenas are shut down indefinitely due to contagion concerns, but it seems to us that building new music venues at this time, while not possible for most people or places, might be kind of optimal; a new venue can include conscientious future-looking measures incorporating ventilation and seating innovations for the times we live in in a way that's hard to retrofit to existing spaces. We don't know yet if it WILL, but it COULD! It's being built by Oak View Group, an Irving Azoff enterprise, and we're told that Harry “will take more than just a capital interest, he will also be actively involved in the development of the project.” Getting ahead of the curve and building the first contagion conscious arena sounds very Azoff and like something Harry would throw himself into: we're eager to hear whether it's the case. “As long as everything's in order by 2023, hopefully they’ll let me play there. If I haven’t messed it up yet,” he says: yes we all hope so too!

#harry styles #wow guys what a day #i loved this video i dont want see any negative comments about this video #also my opening sentence is a quote from an old fic in the merlin fandom #it is called Fundamental Imperfection if you want to read it #also discourse mostly wrote that last paragraph i was flailing over the video #so everyone say THANK YOU DISCOURSE #is there a better way that we can make this clear in the text if we're switching off the writing??? what do you guys think???#anyways!#song of the day!#(pt 1)#ever after by the marianas trench

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fanartfunart · 3 years

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Fly Away

Episode 3: Despair Bear

Ao3 - First - 2

(Féline Sombre & Paon Lilas designs)

Summery: An AU where Adrien never went to in-person school, not getting the cat miraculous, and found the peacock miraculous. -Chloé, determined to be allowed back to visit Adrien’s house, and discovering Adrien is visiting Marinette, sets up a party to showcase just how nice she can be. (posted in full for tumblr while I have power/internet on my computer :P)

Duusu was sitting on top of Adrien’s shoulder when he pressed play on the virtual hello from the class he was almost able to join. Adrien handed him a dried mango chip and he happily munched on it.

Chloé, of course, was the first person to show up on the video, “Adrikins Hiii! I miss you already~”

The camera turned around to show Sabrina, who must’ve been recording. She waved “Hi!”

“Sabrinaaa, camera focused on me. Meee.”

“Oh, right!”

Chloé spent at least a third of the video showing him the building as if she owned it. ...Adrien was surprised it didn’t last longer.

It shifted from the single-take style into more professionally edited together clips of various classmates. Adrien assumed this was where the boy interested in filmmaking had taken over.

“Yo, I’m Nino, hope you get to hang out outside of school one of these days dude. If you ever need a DJ I’m your man! See you around someday!”

“Hi, I’m Alya, investigative journalist-”

Chloé scoffed offscreen, “You wish.”

“Chloé I will-” the video cut out whatever happened after that. Alya stood a bit prouder, “I run the Ladyblog and am the head of the school blog! If you ever have any curiosity about the school news or superhero news, just check those out! Leave some comments if you want and I’ll get back to you asap! Keep it classy."

The rest of the class’s videos went about the same, until the very last one. The girl from the bakery frowned at someone off to the side out of sight from the camera.

“Come on girl, before Chloé comes back.”

“Hi, I’m er, Marinette. I’m uh, an aspiring fashion designer and my parents own Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. I suggest trying out the macaroons! I brought some on the first day, uh, but I tripped so there weren't many left anyway so you probably didn’t miss anything!” She giggled awkwardly. She trailed off, giving a pleading look towards someone behind the camera. “Alya, I don’t know what else to say.”

“Whatever you’d say to a new kid!”

“Uhg, get better friends than Chloé?” She covered her mouth as Alya and Nino laughed from behind the camera. “I- mean whatttt Chloé's er, Chloé. Great evil-er friend… to er, to be setting up this videooo….ohmygosh. Can you edit that out?”

“I would’ve, but now I’m keeping it.” Nino said. Marinette gasped in offence while Alya and Nino giggled more.

“What are you all giggling over?” Chloé complained off-screen. Marinette gave a pointed look to the camera, and the video faded into a written message.

“Sorry I couldn’t properly finish my message. I wish you a wonderful year, and hope you can build great friendships, even without going to school. At least you don’t have to worry about being late! Good luck Adrien -Signed, Marinette.”

“Awwwwwwww, that’s sweet,” Duusu cried.

“Yeah, it was.” He got out his phone to text Chloé a thank you. He sighed as he looked at her many, many, many messages of upset about no longer being allowed over anymore. He was just glad she didn’t get akumatized over it….

He got up, glancing at Duusu. "How about we go visit the bakery and see if Marinette is open to hanging out. My father can't ban me from bakeries, right?"

Duusu giggled, "Sounds like fun!" He frowned, "Are you only choosing to visit Marinette because she has a good place to tell your father you're going to?"

"...No… She's just the only person in that video who mentioned a place I can visit at all."

Duusu just giggled like he knew something Adrien didn't. He shook his head with a smile and grabbed his bag. "Come on, let's go."

"Marinette," Sabine called, opening the trap door to Marinette's room. She waved to the group of girls doing a miniature fashion show there. "Your friend's here."

Marinette looked up from the blog post Alya was showing her, as the other girls continued to put on various jewelry pieces. "Who? I didn't ask anyone else to come over?"

"A boy named Adrien. I can tell him you're busy if you want me to."

"Adrien… Agreste?" Marinette tilted her head. He was Chloé's friend. The one that visited the bakery and fell/she pushed. Wait… he was also the guy who she made a feathered hat for who had a feather allergy wasn't he?! Why on earth would he want to visit her? Did he have some sort of ulterior motive? Was he Chloé's spy? Did he want revenge for the feathers?! "Er."

Alya, Rose, Juleka, and Myléne all oooh-ed at the same time.

"Oh hush. What uh, do you all think?"

Alya grinned "Good with me, girl. I wanna see how this plays out."

Rose nodded enthusiastically and Juleka gave a thumbs up.

Myléne smiled, adjusting her hat, "He's a professional model right? He probably could give us some tips!"

Marinette rolled her eyes, lowering her voice to a harsh stage-whisper, "He's Chloé’s friend."

"The one we made the video for, yep," Alya nodded, "Exactly my point. You said it yourself, he needs better friends than her." ….On the other hand, instead of a revenge-seeking spy, he could simply be that lonely sounding boy they made a video for, trying to escape the clutches of the evil Chloé. Marinette could be the only non-Chloé & minions person he knows! Marinette sighed heavily.

Sabine sighed softly, "Marinette… he's waiting downstairs. Yes or no."

"Okay! Okay. I'll go down and bring him up, I guess." Marinette trudged down, ignoring the giggling girls.

Adrien was wandering curiously around the bakery, hands politely behind his back. He noticed the door open and waved enthusiastically to Marinette. She squeaked and closed the door. Sabine raised a brow.

"You can always tell him you're busy."

"Nooo, it's fine." Marinette sighed and entered the room. Adrien’s confused head tilt turned into a smile. Like a… puppy. An incredibly patient puppy waiting for someone to play with him.

"Hi Marinette. I watched that video today! Thank you, it was really sweet of you guys to do that. I hope you don't mind me kinda just… showing up."

"Oh er… you're welcome. I was actually hanging out with some of the girls who helped make that."

"Oh! If you're busy-" He gestured awkwardly to the door.

"No, no, uh, we were just hanging out, you can join us."

He immediately perked up, "Cool! That sounds like fun!"

Marinette stared at him in his enthusiasm and nodded. "Come on up."

Adrien climbed up into the room, Marinette shortly after him. The group of girls all immediately hushed their conversation upon noticing them and dissolved into giggles.

He chuckled and waved, "Well hello. You all are wearing some lovely hats, is this a fashion show?"

"We're helping Marinette take photos for her Instagram." Myléne said.

"And future blog!" Alya added.

"They've been great models for me," Marinette smiled.

"Oh really? May I see some of the photos?" Alya handed him a phone immediately. He scrolled through some of the photos, nodding."These are great," he smiled and glanced at Marinette, "You made all these hats?"

Marinette nodded, giggling. Rose bounced over to Adrien, showcasing a necklace. "She makes jewelry too!"

"Those are lovely! You're really talented!" He gave Marinette a dazzling smile. She giggled and stuttered something, which was almost a thanks?

"Hey, you're like, a pro model, right?" Alya asked, "Do you mind helping us? Got some insider tips?"

"Oh, uh, sure!" Adrien smiled. It would be fun to help them. Probably more so than a regular photo shoot.

Chloé gasped at her phone. Her Adrien in a picture on Marinette's Instagram post? All squished in a group photo with her little squad?! Why is he hanging out with her!?

She called Adrien, anxiously tapping her nails against the back of the phone.

Adrien picked up and Chloé did not waste a precious minute. "Why are you at Dupain-Chang's?"

"Hello to you too, Chloé. I'm just hanging out. Marinette and her friends wanted some help with modeling her fashions."

"Humph, that ugly stuff? Far too kind of you to do that for her."

He sighed, "Maybe you could benefit from being a bit kinder, Chloé. It's not that hard."

She heard a few hushed whispers in the background over the line. She balked. "I- But why would your father let you visit her and not let me, your oldest friend, over!"

"Marinette didn't steal a book from my father's safe and get him upset enough to get akumatized." Adrien's voice was level. Gentle even. Chloé felt that was probably worse than any direct anger.

Marinette's voice in the background squeaked out "Chloé’s book belonged to your dad?!"

"Oh." Chloé muttered. "But actually Sabrina-"

"I don't care if you got Sabrina to do it or not. I care if you learn from this kind of stuff and become a bit more considerate," Adrien sighed, "Maybe if you showcase some better behavior my father might let you come back over more again. But until then, I can't do anything about it. Sorry."

"I…" Any defences or retorts died on her tongue.

Adrien waited a moment, "I gotta go Chloé. Talk to you later, okay? Goodbye."

"Goodbye...Adrien."

Adrien hung up and she plopped onto the couch, staring at the earlier text messages between her and Adrien.

Chloé blinked away tears.

Adrien sighed, turning towards the group of girls, "Sorry. My father kinda banned Chloé from coming over to my house and she's still… very upset about it…"

"She…" Marinette coughed, "Um. What was that about a book?"

"Chloé and Sabrina came over and uh, Sabrina got caught taking my father's book. It was important to him. Apparently they lost it… I was hoping they could find and return it and they'd be allowed back but…" He glanced at the floor and shrugged.

"Right. Right. And where did your dad get this book? Er… Maybe we can get a replacement?" She giggled awkwardly.

"I don't know. He didn't explain much about it." He waved a hand dismissively, "Anyway, you were uh, suggesting food?"

"Right!" Marinette cheered, "Shall we raid the kitchen? Maybe dad can teach us a good recipe and we can bake something like we were supposed to at school today." She opened the door and gestured for the group to file out downstairs.

"Yeah, before the fire alarm interfered," Alya said, walking down.

Rose took Julika's hand and they made their way down, Meline and Adrien not far behind.

Marinette waited for them to get out of earshot before whispering for Tiki to come out. She zipped out as Marinette grabbed her purse. "If Chloé got the book from Adrien's house, why did Adrien's father have the spellbook? He was akumatized so he can't be Hawkmoth right?"

Tiki shrugged helplessly, "You'll have to go over and ask him."

"Ugh, why is tracing down who had this book like a game of evil telephone?" Marinette groaned.

"Marinette, are you coming?" Myléne called.

"Oop! Be right there!" She opened her purse for Tiki to zip into it. She raced down the steps to catch up to her friends.

Jean-Claude arrived with chocolates and Chloé tearfully popped them into her mouth. He lingered despite his job being complete. "May I ask what has upset Mademoiselle?"

"Adrien doesn't wanna be my friend anymoreeee," She whined, "He's making new friends with other girls. How can he do this to me, Jean-Michel?"

"Uh, my name is- nevermind. Perhaps Mademoiselle can see comfort with Mr. Cuddly?" He offered the stuffed bear with a light flourish.

She gasped and grabbed the teddy bear, cuddling it close.

"If you don't mind my asking Mademoiselle, did he say why?"

"Something, something kindness and consideration." She waved a hand. She pouted. "What do I do Jean-Yves?"

"Perhaps Mademoiselle remembers Mr. Cuddly when she was a little girl and how he was always nice to Mademoiselle when she was a child?"

Chloé pursed her lips, eyes shiny, and nodded.

"Mr. Cuddly is always kind, even when it doesn't directly benefit him. But that has made him a very good friend. Perhaps, Mademoiselle can follow Mr. Cuddly's example and Adrien will see how good a friend Mademoiselle can be."

"Oh you're right Jean-Jacque, Adrien wanted me to show his dad I'm considerate, so I'll show him! Then I'll get my Adrikins back and he'll stop hanging out with Dupain-Chang! Er…. How...should I do that?" She giggled awkwardly.

Jean-Pierre sighed heavily, looking exhausted already.

Adrien was covered in flour and giggling about it. Juleka wasn't even halfway through a mumbled apology before he was forgiving her. Marinette wasn't sure how he was supposedly friends with Chloé in the first place. Was he mind controlled or something by her?

Alya slid next to Marinette and grinned "So, are we thinking friendly boy or boyfriend here?"

Marinette rolled her eyes and shook her head "I am not competing with Chloé over her infamous 'Adrikins'. Blegh."

"That wasn't a 'ew no' though~ You can't deny he's cute."

Marinette huffed, "Like, in a cute puppy way."

Alya snorted and nodded, "Fair enough."

The group's phones all pinged with the exception of Marinette's.

They each got out their phones. Adrien raised a brow. "Chloé's hosting a party?"

"Did you all get one?" Juleka asked, looking around at them.

Myléne nodded, "It looks like it. Maybe she's taking Adrien's advice and is gonna try to be nicer."

Marinette scoffed, "Please, it's probably some sort of joke or prank."

"Did you get an invite?"

Marinette looked at her phone and shook her head, "No…"

Alya chuckled, "Well that means it's real and not a joke, doesn't it, hm?

Marinette made a disgruntled face. Then her phone pinged, "Eeew! I got invited!" She threw her phone, then stumbled to catch it before it landed in the batter. Adrien stumbled and caught it for her. They crashed into each other, pinning Adrien between the counter and Marinette. She immediately backpedaled. He giggled awkwardly and handed the phone to her, stepping back out of her space.

"This is gonna be so much fun! There's gonna be dancing!" Rose looked up, smiling at Juleka.

"Wait, you guys aren't seriously considering going, are you?" Marinette squeaked.

"Why not?" Myléne muttered, shrugging, "Maybe she's really trying to be nice."

"Chloé? Nice?" She shook her head, "Eugh, whatever, you guys can go but count me out."

Adrien shrugged, idly fiddling with the dough. "I've known Chloé for a long time. She can be cool, sometimes, really." He looked up. ...Wait, did he have baby-doll eyes like Manon or something?! What is this sorcery? He smiled softly. "Maybe give her a chance, Marinette."

Marinette pursed her lips and sighed "Yeah, yeah, fine, I guess." Alya’s teasing smirk didn't help at all though.

Chloé had it all planned. She had set up a section for adults as well, having sent invites for some of the teens' parents. Namely, she needed Adrien’s father to see how great of a person she could be. Unfortunately the main person she wanted there...was not. But hey maybe this could work with word-of-mouth…. Parents talk to other parents about how nice random kids are, right?

So while the adults mostly stayed around the tables talking, the teens danced and played in the ball pit. Jean-Paul had been practically following her around with Mr. Cuddly, reminding her what Mr. Cuddly would do. But, Adrien was there! And! Adrien smiled at her! Every time she was nice! So the plan seemed to be working.

Until he left the dance floor to talk to Marinette and her friends. She barely contained her rage. Actually, she didn't contain it at all. Chloé abandoned her dance with Kim and started marching toward them.

"Oh, I do need to get some of your guys' phone numbers or something so I don't have to make surprise visits all the time," Adrien said, giggling awkwardly.

Alya nodded, "Yeah for sure, I'll give you Nino's number too, he's DJing-"

Chloé was so close to pulling Adrien away until Jean-George blocked her path.

"Mademoiselle if you-"

"Move, Jean-Marc!"

He pulled out Mr Cuddly, and spoke in a squeaky voice, "Oh, Chloé dear, Mr Cuddly is very proud of you-" Chloé gasped and tried to bat the teddy bear away.

"Is that your teddy bear Chloé?" Kim laughed, leading the traitorous group of teens.

Chloé gasped and pulled Jean-Louis into the kitchens.

"I've had it with you and your stupid advice! Ive had it with you, Jean-whatever your stupid name is!"

"Mademoiselle I was only trying to help."

"No more Mademoiselle, no more help, no more anything! You're fired!" She marched out, leaving Jean-??? clutching the teddy bear. Somewhere, a very patient Hawkmoth (who purposefully declined an invitation in a subtle attempt to make a teenage girl more frustrated and anxious and make a villain at her party eventually) grinned to himself.

Sabrina was just chilling, really. She'd helped set up the entire thing and now they'd much rather just sit and drink her juice. Just as content as Plagg with an extra piece of cheese.

Until a teddy bear clamped onto her leg.

Chloé utilized her excess frustration to pull Adrien away from Marinette. "Come on, we should dance."

"Right now? But, I was talking to-" Adrien half heartedly protested, already stumbling along.

"He doesn't have to go with you if he doesn't want to, you can't just drag him around," Marinette interrupted, grabbing Adrien's other arm.

"Chloeee," Sabrina called, brandishing a hair brush like a weapon, "Come here. Let me brush your hair. It won't hurt I promise."

"Don't you see I'm busy?" Chloé huffed. She tugged on Adrien's arm, except this time she got resistance. Adrien pulled his arm away, frowning at Sabrina.

"Uh, something's… wrong with Sabrina," he said.

Sabrina smiled, and leapt toward Chloé.

Marinette intercepted Sabrina, brows furrowed in determination and flipped her onto the ground. Adrien stared at her.

"Oh. Wow," He breathed out.

Sabrina blinked and sat up, "Huh? Why am I on the floor?"

Marinette frowned, looking around the room, "Er… you were… trying to attack Chloé."

Sabrina gasped and scrambled to a stand. "Ohno, I… I uh, I need to go." Sabrina anxiously smiled and then ran off.

"Me too actually… I, uh ...too much orange juice." Marinette ran off, leaving Adrien with- ….Where did Chloé go?

He glanced around, and found her swatting away… some kid Adrien didn't know. He was pretty sure they were in the video somewhere.

He frowned and glanced around, before running off to the stairwell.

Marinette shook her head as she hid in the bathroom stall, "Looks like Chloé upset someone. Guess it was only a matter of time. Tiki, Spots on!"

Sabrina raced into the kitchen, "Oh I can't believe I was just mind controlled by an Akuma. Poor Chloé!"

Plagg cackled in laughter, "You have the power of destruction and you were about to chase Chloé with a hair brush. I can't believe it."

They rolled their eyes, "That's definitely a good thing. Plagg, Claws out!"

Adrien closed the door to the stairwell, checking that no one was there. Duusu zipped out with a cheer, "You love Marinette!"

"I- what? I er-" He blushed and glanced to the side, "No I don't," his voice came out squeaky.

"Yes you do, I know it!" Duusu giggled, gesturing to himself, " Emotion Kwami." Duusu tilted his head, "Do you intend to tell her? How? Maybe a cute letter or something? Oh you two would be just so cute together! And we could have more fresh pastries!"

He sputtered and shook his head. "Focus Duusu. We need to help Chloé," Adrien said, fixing the brooch to the front of his shirt.

Duusu giggled more.

Adrien took in a deep breath, trying to calm his own blush. "Duusu, Spread my feathers!"

Ladybug and Féline Sombre were already there… Well that was fast.

"You finally showed up! What took so long!?" Chloé cried towards the two superheros, as she peered from her hiding spot behind a pillar. ...Or maybe it wasn't fast? Did Chloé call them or something? She has mentioned being their friend. Often. By the annoyance from Ladybug, he guessed she wasn't a very good friend if that was the case.

"What, not excited to see me?" Paon Lilas asked with a grin.

"Oh yeah you too." Chloé waved a hand, apparently having just noticed him. ...Paon really needed to work on some dramatic entrances.

Nino threw a CD disc towards Chloé and she shrieked.

Ladybug wrapped her yoyo around Chloé's leg, pulling her back and into the ball pit. Féline Sombre leaped up to restrain Nino.

Nino blinked in confusion, "Huh?"

"Oh, sorry," Féline Sombre let him go, looking for the teddy bear controlling people.

Another boy threw a chair towards Ladybug. "How about a game of flying chairs?" He taunted.

"Love to but," Paon kicked the chair away, landing in a wall, "shouldn't music be involved?"

Ladybug was grabbed from behind and she pushed Alya off, spinning around to find the teen reporter blinking in confusion.

A boy raised a table above his head, and Féline Sombre extended her staff to knock it out of his hands. Paon grabbed the table before it flew into any civilians and dropped it on the floor. "Careful kitty."

"Whoops... But, where'd he go?" Féline asked, turning around.

Ladybug looked around frantically, trying to find someone who was acting off. Paon Lilas grabbed her hand.

"What are you doing?" Ladybug tugged away. Paon pulled back, making her stumble forward. "Oh no."

"Ooo, pretty earrings." He made a swipe towards her earrings and she shoved him back, making him stumble.

"Knock it off, bird brain!" She exclaimed.

He growled and tried again with a punch. Féline Sombre vaulted in on her staff and kicked him back into a table.

Paon Lilas plucked a feather and grabbed a plastic spoon from the table.

A floating marionette rod was summoned. The strings wrapped Féline Sombre's arms and legs. They gasped as they were dragged forward towards Ladybug.

"Hey!" Ladybug cried, "What are you doing?"

"I'm not doing this!" Féline shrieked. She threw a punch towards Ladybug, "Sorry!"

"Paws off kitty cat!" Chloé called, pushing Féline over.

"Thanks!" Ladybug called, "Lucky Charm!" And… got an over large crochet hook.

Paon Lilas growled and motioned his head, the senti-marrionetted Féline being flung back towards Chloé. He charged toward Ladybug.

Ladybug glanced between the marionette rod and the teddy bear. She grabbed a marionette string with the crochet hook Féline passed her and twirling the hook to properly tangle the string, threw it into a wall. The string snapped, giving Féline control of one of her hands.

"Féline," Ladybug called. Paon kicked her and she jumped back, "I need you to cut some strings soon!" Ladybug and Paon Lilas fought. She shielded, he swept her legs. He went in for a strike, she blocked.

"Sure thing, Bug," Féline raised a hand, summoning her destructive power, "Cataclysm!"

"Now, Chloé if you could be so kind-” She gestured to the captured marionette strings.

Chloé nodded, taking up the hook and diving for the teddy bear, catching a loop on its back. She tugged and threw it back to Féline Sombre. They touched the Akuma string with their Cataclysm.

Paon blinked as the Akuma was destroyed, halting a punch. He took in heavy breaths, stumbling back as a wave of fear hit him over the receding fog of mind control. "Ladybug? What are you doing?"

Fear was quickly replaced with relief and pride. Ladybug grinned, "Just saving your feathery hide with our new sidekick." She looked at Chloé.

"You haven't defeated me yet!" A small voice squeaked and kicked Paon Lilas in the chin.

"Watch your step!" Ladybug readied her yoyo to capture and purify the butterfly that was fluttering away.

"Can someone help me out here!?" Féline Sombre yelled. Paon glanced at the senti-monster strings attached to her feet and hand and then at the spoon he was carrying. His miraculous beeped. He snapped his fingers, pulling the amok from the spoon and dropping it.

Ladybug threw her crochet hook into the air, "Miraculous Ladybug!" The swarm of ladybugs returned everything in the room to normal. Ladybug and Féline Sombe high fived. Paon Lilas ran. Before either of them turned to look his way.

Ladybug turned, finding the other miraculous wielder missing. She sighed, "He flew off again."

Chloé cleared her throat.

Ladybug blinked and looked at her. "Oh. Er, thanks for helping me back there…. It was very nice of you."

Chloé smiled, dusting off her jacket, "It was, wasn't it? Did you hear that, Jean-Pascal?! If Ladybug says I'm nice then Adrien and his dad have to believe it!"

"...Mademoiselle I must admit I have no memory of what just happened."

"Basically you turned evil and I saved you. Without me the superheros probably never would have succeeded." Chloé explained.

Both Ladybug's and Féline Sombre's miraculous' beeped.

"Gotta go," Ladybug said, running up the stairwell to the roof.

"Same here," Féline said, giving a polite nod to Chloé and Jean-Something. She ran out the doors.

"Hm. Maybe some of this nice-stuff of yours makes some sense….. Jean-Baptiste, I've decided to keep you on. Don't let the guests all run away, they don't wanna miss what's next!"

Jean-Pierre nodded "Thank you, Mademoiselle, I will Mademoiselle."

Adrien sighed as he watched Marinette finish her macaroons. He was too tired to make his own. He sat in a chair to avoid any sudden dizzy spells, resting his head on the table.

Chloé slid next to him, looping her arms around his shoulders. "Sooo Adrikins, I'm really nice now, did you notice? I even let Marinette's dad finish teaching everyone how to make those messy macaroons."

He pulled his attention from Marinette and nodded. "Yes, it's very nice of you." He smiled a little. She frowned…. Usually smiling causes the opposite response.

"Ugh, what's wrong? You're not like, super happy. I did everythingggg."

"Oh uh," he glanced at Marinette again, before looking back at Chloé, "It's nothing."

Chloé followed his glance and pouted, "Did she say mean things to you? Do I need to tell her her macaroons are appalling or something?"

"No! No. Please no. We just talked about being nice."

"Oops! Right…. Wait. You don't like her do you?"

He blushed and looked away, shrugging.

Chloé gasped, "Nooo! Ughhh, why couldn't you fall in love with someone unattainable? Like Ladybug or somebody."

"Huh?" Adrien crinkled his nose, "What?"

"Nothing~ Fine, fine. We're still best friends forever right though?"

He huffed a smile and nodded, "Yeah, Chloé, best friends forever."

"Pinky swear?" She held out her pinky in front of him and he linked their fingers.

"Pinky swear."

She let out an exhale of relief, "Okay, make sure to tell your dad I'm the best influence ever now."

Adrien giggled and nodded, "Sure. I'll try."

"Perfect. You promised," She grinned and waltzed over to the bakers and began listing off what was wrong with their goods. Pausing at Marinette, she glanced at Adrien and simply passed her by without a word…. Marinette seemed offended anyway.

Adrien shook his head. Oh, that didn't cause spots in his vision. Good. Satisfied with the conclusion the worst of the battle weariness had passed, he got up to see if Marinette might share some of those cookies. Then, if he had the energy, repair some of Chloé’s emotional damage.

#fanfic #ml fanfiction #miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #marinette dupen chang #Chloé Bourgeois #sabrina raincomprix #black cat!sabrina #peacock!adrien #miraculous swap #fly away fic #fanart's fanfic #apparently I cant help myself but post the entire thing #lol

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