#I’m using a direct reference of a statue as practice

[noxcaelestia]

wip 🏹

[simfinityccfinds]

My Sims 4 Mods Folder in text form.

By SimfintyPlays.

"Ever wonder who meticulously documents every mod in their game? Well, guess what? It's none other than me, Sara – the ultimate perfectionist with no room for glitchy mods. Consider this your go-to mod-slaying guide, not just another mundane list. Below, you'll discover the mod's status (When I mention Mods, I'm referring to gameplay, not cc or custom content) and a direct link to it. I genuinely hope this proves helpful to everyone, and I'll keep updating this document with each patch as best I can"

If you like what I do consider supporting me by subscribing to my YouTube which you can find below:

Important Links:



Let's start by exploring all my mods below 🙂:

KEY:

✓ - New Update Available

X- Broken / Hasn’t Been Updated

✓ (Does not affect the game ) - Pretty simple, no need to update

X / ✓ (unconfirmed) - Again Pretty Simple, The Creator is unsure if it causes issues so use at own risk/ Hasn’t spoken or made a post about their mods.

(The empty Ones are cc! So not mods lol and can be updated with sims4studio using batch fixes. Find the tutorial Here)

Update to Defaults:

Lamatisse Tapicoeyes Default

Lamatisse Tinsel Default Skin

Luumia Skin Vanilla Merged

VP Lush Bra, Boxers, and Panties

CAS MODS:

More CAS Columns ( Weerbesu) ✓

NSW CAS Tuning-Controlled Position MOD (Northern Siberian Winds) ✓

More Traits in CAS (The Pancake 1) ✓

Stand Still In Cas MizoreYukui (Shooksims) ✓

JS Gradual Aging ✓

100 Base Game Trait Pack X / ✓ (unconfirmed)

Kiara’s Traits + Mods X / ✓ (unconfirmed)

CAS HONORABLE MENTIONS:

No EA Eyelashes ✓

CAS Background #6 Oyster by Biancml

Sims 4 Elegant Font Override ✓ (Does not affect the game )

Minimalist Cas Organizer’s ✓ (Does not affect the game )

Ea Teeth Begone (Pyxis) ✓ (Does not affect the game )

BUILD AND BUY MODS:

T.O.O.L MOD (Twisted Mexi) X

BetterBuildBuy (Twisted Mexi) X





ESSENTIAL MODS:

MC Command (Deaderpool) ✓

UI Cheats (Weerbesu) ✓

Gshade - How to Install It Here ✓ (Does not affect the game )

Milk Thistle Lighting Mod (Softerhaze)- How to Install It Here ✓ (Does not affect the game )

No Glo and No Blu (Luumina) ✓ (Does not affect the game )

XML Injector X / ✓ (unconfirmed)

Chalkd UI ✓

FOOD MODS:

Grannie Cookbook and Addons (LBB) ✓ (No Update Needed)

Bulk Download (a bunch of recipes in one file) (LBB)

ROMANCE AND RELATIONSHIP MODS:

Relationship & Pregnancy Overhaul (Lumpinou) X

Realistic Childbirth Mod (PandaSama) ✓ (No Update Needed)

Expanded Pregnancy Options ✓ (No Update Needed)

GAMEPLAY MODS:

First Impression Mod (Lumnipou) ✓ (No Update Needed)

Mood Mod Pack ✓ (No Update Needed)

Talents and Weaknesses ✓ (No Update Needed)

Andirz Smart Sim Randomiser + Smart Shared Core (Required). ✓

DanitySimmer’s Fashion Designer Mod ✓

DISL_Residetal Lots NPC + Brain-blasted injection tools ✓

MapleDaFlap Come Celebrate Mod ✓ (No Update Needed)

Utopya Billard Mod X / ✓ (unconfirmed)

AJJ Cold Drinks ✓ (No Update Needed)

Cry Mod c

Danity Simmer NFL, WNBA, Sports Pie Menu. ✓

LTT’s Gift Override ✓ (No Update Needed)

Midnitetech’s Generic Lot’s Empty No more. ✓ (No Update Needed)

Scumbumbo’s Teleport Any Sim ✓ (No Update Needed)

Tiasha No Random Hair, A New Names For CAS ✓ (Does not affect the game )

Everyday Clutter Kit Becomes Functional ✓ (No Update Needed)

MISSHISSY:

Note;

The following mods will be updated for Lovestruck on Friday but are perfectly okay to use right now, The Creator has listed here their updated mods!

MissyHissy’s Personality Mod

The Custom Wants Mod

The Hobby Mod ✓

Basemental :





Language Barrier Mod:





SIMSREALIST:

Private Practice ✓ (No Update Needed)

Mortem ✓ (No Update Needed)

Flow Fit ✓ (No Update Needed)

Home and Land Company ✓ (No Update Needed)

All In One Download Here

LMS MODS:✓

*This one is so big that I’m just going to link her curse forge and you can copy and paste the names in the search bar* ↘





Find That Here

Auto Employee

Babysitter

Better Homework

Chores

Dogwalker

Entrance Lot Fees

Go for a Walk

Improve Kids Night Light

Improved Yoga Mat

Kids go for a Walk with Dogs

No Work Traditions

School Holiday

Better Nanny

Call to Meal

Live in Business

No Auto Food Grab After Cooking

Personal Objects

Quick Shower, Quick Bath

Sui Sui Weather AppWorking Pet Waterbowl

CARL:

Dineout Reloaded X / ✓ (unconfirmed)

Retail Reloaded X / ✓ (unconfirmed)

LOT51:

BirdLife ✓ (No Update Needed)

Doorbell ✓

Sunrise Alarm Clock ✓ (No Update Needed)





ZERBU;

:Go to School ✓

Custom Venue Changes ✓

Staff Icons ✓

All Worlds Residental ✓

Spawn Refresh ✓





QUALITY OF LIFE MODS:

Map Replacements:

20th Centuary ✓ (Does not affect the game )

Dershayan (Fanart Maps) ✓ (Does not affect the game )

Missing Plumbob (Mint Valintine ) ✓ (Does not affect the game )

Selectable Pets Always X / ✓ (unconfirmed)

Control Any Sim X / ✓ (unconfirmed)

AMELLCE:





Steady Sit Mod X / ✓ (unconfirmed)

Clean House X / ✓ (unconfirmed)

IN-GAME OVERRIDES:

✓ (Does not affect the game )

Kitchen Sponge

Spray Bottle

Folded Shirt

Laundry Pile

Mop Default Replacement

Adoption Carrier

Leash

*most of these can be found in an all-in-one download*

You can Find Them Here

RAVASHEEN MODS:

Easy Peasy Lumen Squeezy Lights (RSVN) X





These Mods Work in my Game and Have Been Updated to the newest patch:

As of 7/27/2024 at 10:23 pm this is the Updated List For working with the current

(Lovestruck Pack) PC: 1.108.335.1020 / Mac: 1.108.335.1220

Find Patch Notes Below:





[angelkissiies]

my anderson girl

abby anderson x reader

cw : fluff !

wc : 1.8k

proof read : no | yes

“God, this place is hell.” You stated, pushing around a pile of old clothes with the tip of your rifle, but generally referring to the radio station. It was everyone’s least favorite overnight patrol route, and you and Abby just happened to get lucky enough to be assigned to it during one of the rainiest seasons in Seattle. That meant that the ceiling had begun to leak, dripping slow drizzles of rain through old bullet holes in the plexiglass. 

Abby snorted, glancing up to check that the upper floor was quiet, before letting her heavy pack fall to the floor with an obnoxious thump. “Better get used to it, princess. If the rain doesn’t let up, we might be stuck here longer.” She threw out, clicking her tongue against her teeth gently as she stowed her gun away in her thigh holster. 

You made a face, pulling your rifle back around to rest against your back. “I’m gonna go check the rooms, see if maybe we have a dry place to sleep tonight.” You stepped over the pile, moving towards the west-end staircase. It was the one in better condition, seeing as the east end had cordyceps patches lining the railing that you didn’t feel like aggravating. “Will you check the side exit? We haven’t been back in a while so I’m not sure if it’s still blocked off.” 

She nodded, directing her attention to the puddle of rain that had begun to accumulate near the stairwell that concealed the exit. Silently, she prayed it was still blocked- as she didn’t have the energy to deal with a shambler on a day like this. “I’ve got it, be careful up there. Okay? Yell if you need me.” She enforced, looking back up at you as you halted at the first step of the staircase. 

“Aye, aye, Captain.” You chuckled, practically running up the stairs (much to Abby’s dismay). The second floor was your favorite place to be in the building, as it had windows as far as the eye could see. It gave the best view in Seattle, in your opinion, though you knew Abby would argue that the space needle would be better. Neither of you had ever actually seen the space needle, but it had been on your mutual bucket list for as long as you’d known the girl. 

Just as you’d remembered, the floor was bright and completely void of any pests. Something you’d grown very comfortable with in the past few months, as the rainy season tended to thin out the hordes of infected. You didn’t know why exactly, but the logistics really didn’t matter to you. The less the better, right? 

As you wandered around you made a deal of opening every door, peering in to check their sleepable status. So far, you were stuck between damp and moth-eaten. Not exactly the most comfortable, nor sanitary as you thought about it more. Your thoughts were subdued quickly, after opening the door to the main office. To your (pleasant) surprise, it was in almost perfect condition. You made a mental note to thank Leah when you got back, seeing as you knew she was one of the last groups out here. 

“Abby!” You shouted, hearing a small commotion as the sound echoed through the empty building. You moved to sit your gun down and then leaned against the desk that had been pushed against the window looking in from the hallway, glancing towards the window that looked out towards the convention center. You were barely able to make out a couple close buildings due to the heavy fog that accumulated right at the cut from the first floor to the second. 

Heavy footsteps carried through the building, accompanied by a mass of woman pushing through the doorway to look around hastily. Her hair was sticking up slightly and her skin was glowing with a slight sheen of sweat and rain as she gripped the hilt of her knife. “What’s wrong?” She asked in a slight huff, not taking note of any threat. 

You laughed, covering it with a halfhearted cough as you took in your girlfriend. Somehow your shout to her had translated into danger, though you hadn't realized it at the moment. “Nothing is wrong, but look!” You explained, pointing to the mattress on the floor that was complete with a clean-ish sheet and a blanket that would make due. It was nothing extraordinary, compared to the bed you shared back home but it was pretty great compared to the moth-eaten pallet in the room just next door. “Blanket and everything.”

Abby looked very upset for about half a second before she moved forward to scoop you up in her arms, peppering your cheeks with wet kisses. “You scared the shit out of me, I dropped my walkie-talkie and everything.” She groaned between pecks, her tone devoid of any real annoyance. She had a tendency to imagine the worst, especially when it came to you, so it didn’t surprise you much. “Don’t do that to me, I might die one of these days.” 

You shoved her playfully, giving her a sharp look. “You’re not dying anytime soon, hear me?” It was the truth, seeing as you’d do quite literally anything to keep the girl from harm's way- much to her dismay. She was beyond capable of taking care of herself, seeing as she did so for many years before you came along- but that didn’t stop you from doing everything you could to protect her, even if it wasn’t much. It always just made perfect sense to you, her life meant everything to you, so in turn you’d do anything to keep it safe. 

She rolled her eyes, tossing her knife down on the table as she looked around the room. You were right in your reaction, the room was perfect. A slightly lumpy mattress, blanket, even pillows. Not to mention the eye line from the said mattress was perfect, she could almost see both stairwells. “Well, how do you feel about settling in for the night? It’s getting kinda dark.” She hummed, shedding her thick jacket before nudging you with it gently. “Temps gonna drop, take it.”

“Or,” You began, taking baby steps towards the bed, bending down to unfold the thick duvet. “We could settle into bed together, and then we wouldn't even have to worry about the cold. Body heat, y’know?” 

Abby narrowed her eyes at you, watching as you let the heavy material fall flat against the plush surface before tossing yourself onto it- sinking slightly with a soft sigh. You were so captivating, always drawing her in when she knew she had other things to do. So many things to do at that. All personal requests from Issac that she’d fantasize about telling him where to shove them, she hated being his dog. His toy soldier. Though, he led her to you. For that, she’d forever be grateful, though it changed mostly nothing about the disdain she held for him. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were using me for my body heat.” 

You feigned a shocked gasp, placing a hand over your heart. “Me? Using you? How ever could I?” You teased, rolling over slightly to make room for her. 

She tossed her coat aside, kneeling down at the side of the mattress before wiggling in beside you. She couldn’t lie, it was beyond the comfort she was expecting from such a widely hated place. It was soft, albeit lumpy around the edges, and surprisingly didn’t smell like someone had died on it. Always a plus. “Man, gotta thank Leah for keeping it so nice here, this might be more comfortable than our mattress back home.” She admitted, turning to face you. 

“Much comfier.” Your hands snaked around her waist, drawing her into you until you could feel her breath against the side of your neck. Close was never close enough to you, always trying to bring her nearer and nearer until she ultimately made the joke that you wanted to fuse together or something. It was always good fun though, seeing as she craved the feeling of you just like you did her. “Babygirl, you’re so warm.” You sighed, feeling her rest her head on your collarbone, hand coming to settle on the soft round of your stomach. 

The woman laughed lightly, her fingers now tracing small patterns on the fabric of your shirt. Something about you always made her feel so safe, so vulnerable. You were the home she knew she could always find, always rely on. You made that very apparent through the endless nights you’d stayed awake for her, or went looking for her outside of the walls when you thought she might be in danger. It felt good, for once, to have someone care so much they’d put your safety above their own. It felt good to be seen as an equal instead of some jacked superhero. She was just as scared and tired as you, she just did a better job at coping with it. 

“I love you, Abigail.” You hummed, free hand moving around to toy with the elastic holding her braid together. “You looked really pretty today, you know.” 

She nuzzled her face into your neck, giggling off the comment lightly as a pink blush crept up her neck. She was still getting used to it, the whole compliments thing. After Owen, she felt defeminized- forced into a box of masculinity to fit in with anyone. “I love you too, princess.” 

“I always think you look pretty, actually.” You stated matter-of-factly, finally securing the elastic on your wrist as you slowly begin to take her braid apart. You knew from her countless nights of restlessness, how easy it was for them to make her head hurt- so you made sure that you took them out whenever you remembered to. “You just looked extra pretty today, I think the sun did your freckles well.” You finished, alluding to the sunny days you’d gotten just before the rain began. 

Abby couldn't control the giggles that fell from her lips as she muffled her noises of embarrassment in your neck. It felt weird, but she still loved it. Eating up every love-soaked comment you’d throw her way. Some would complain about your constant spew of compliments you had in store for her, some would say it was overkill- but for her, it was just enough. The perfect amount of too much and not enough left her teetering on the edge of her seat waiting for the next time she’d hear the praise fall from your lips.

You made her feel like herself again, after so long of putting up a front for everyone else, she felt like Abigail Anderson. Not a soldier. Not a bro. Not a dog to order around. 

Abby. 

Just Abby. 

[knightofhylia-sageofthetriforce]

A Ritual of Purification

The purification ritual will utilize my prayer the Four Goddesses but can easily be personalized to address one's primary Hyrulean deity if that is preferable or easier. In my case, I may shorten the prayer on occasion by focusing on the Lady Hylia section of the prayer until I can remember it better. In that particular situation, Lady Hylia is the protector of the Triforce and has direct contact with the Three Golden Goddesses.

Recite the Prayer of Purification either in front of your altar or with a suitable portable icon in your hands if you are traveling. For example, a miniature goddess statue you can keep in your pocket. In the case of my friend who worships the Great Deku Tree, they have found a small tree man statue that is originally part of a fairy garden set. One may choose to use sea salt, blessed sand, flour, or egg shell powder to rub onto the three Triforce Energy Centers I reference in my blog post about my Embodying the Triforce cultivation technique. You may also choose to rub the purifying agent of your choice onto you shoulders and arms. From there there are two different methods to complete the purification.

Shower:

After completing the initial preparation, step into the shower. You may choose your water temperature. Warm is more comfortable, but cold is rather invigorating and has many benefits. Take up a comfortable but meaningful posture. I recommend hands clasped over the heart akin to the posture of the Goddess Statues. It may also help to have a chant or mantra. For example, “Din, Farore, Nayru—Power, Courage, Wisdom— Purify and restore. Lady Hylia, Keeper of the Triforce, purify and restore.” I recommend repeating this at least three times while under the shower stream.

River/Waterfall/Ocean

Outdoors in natural running water is generally going to be an even more powerful practice so this is recommended to be done as often as possible though the shower practice is more accessible. Complete the same preparations and then step into the water. The same chant will work but one may also wish to recite the full Prayer of Purification while in the water.

Other thoughts and recommendations

I have my Goddess Statue that I keep on my altar but I also intend to buy a stone angel statue I can hold in my palm while I do the prayer away from home and maybe even to hold in my hands while I’m the water chanting. Often these relatively lower detail angel statues are also similar enough to a Goddess Statue and I think would serve as a great tool.

If you choose to use cold water in the shower or you’re in water outdoors that is cold, it may be helpful to practice some breathing techniques ahead of time. I plan to look a bit more into the Wim Hof method to help me better handle cold water. I also recommend taking a full breath at the beginning of each repetition of the chant.

Please feel free to share thoughts and suggestions! I look forward to hearing about your own personal practices if you’d like to share!

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 6.1

very funny that after spending the last arc trying to wrap things up quickly enough to get back to school, this arc is called "Cutting Class"

“I’ll hold off,” Lucy said.  “See how Durocher is as a teacher.  If she’s good, I’ll take that language class.  Then we can share notes.”

if they're planning on only attending in the summer, they should split up as much as possible, and then will have notes to go over during the school years

“We know.  And Verona and Avery,” Chopsticks said.  “I’m Yadira Kennedy, that’s Kassidy but we call her Kass, and that’s Raquel Musser.”

oooh, looked through the student guide and Musser is descended from the school founder, and presumably the sibling she doesn't get along with is the one with multiple familiars I thought sounded interesting

“You’re going to have to try awfully hard, Raquel,” Kass said, sitting back against the bench.  “You’re not a boy, and only boys get the best of what the Mussers have to offer.”

and that would explain the sibling dislike

“Do you know who get even less than girls born to the Musser family?” Raquel asked.  “Venomous little bitches who attack their friends to try and look cool for strangers.”

my initial assumption was that these girls were friends, but I'm starting to doubt that. Adds a little less weight to them commenting on the Kennet Trio being close

“Okay,” Yadira said.  “I’m getting up, I’m sitting between you two, and you two should stop talking to each other until after class.”

i feel so bad for yadira having to deal with this

“I have bound an Other to a certain course of action. Many, in fact,” Mrs. Durocher addressed the room, with a slightly different tone of voice. “Bound them to servitude. Bound them to hunt and kill a threat. Bound them to refrain from hurting people.

: | there's a wide range of morality there

I’ve bound humans in many of these same ways. To their word. In chains.

:| :| :|

So, let me ask you… what is binding?  What is it to be bound?  Are you bound if I invite you to my office here in the school, other people arrive, and you can’t find a polite moment to leave?  What if you find yourself staying five, fifteen, or thirty minutes longer than expected?  Is it me and my status that binds you?  Social pressure?  Convention?  Is it yourself? We use the term ‘bind’ in so many ways, but we really mean one thing. Taking control of another.

this is an interesting way to look at it. I'd primarily use "bound" in a practice sense to refer to some kind of magical constraint (circle etc), or I guess to refer to being bound by a promise. One of the things about magic in the otherverse is how much of it focuses on more mundane methods (often using karma or subtle practices) over direct force. Alexander's control over the school gives him power, as do Bristow's renters. And since the spirits watch everything, it's matters more if you can weaponize social convention.

absorbed by a Compiler Error and extruded, brain damaged, into the nearest appliance or container…

this is the one that would get me

Early in our lives we learn not to touch hot things. That is a fundamental lesson we carry with us, but sometimes we must learn for ourselves, and it doesn’t matter how much our mothers tell us or warn us. My problem as a teacher is that to be responsible and kind I must instill upon you that no, this is not something where I can say stay away, do not touch, and let you make your mistakes.

oh she's absolutely going to put them through an incredibly dangerous practical demonstration

My other apprentice and his Fiancee are taking lessons with Alexander, so it really is up to him and the collective of you.

this also seems like a test for Amine

Variants on the Compiler Error include the Overflow Error and the Resource Error.

at least they don't have to face the dreaded segfault

Positive bindings will not be an affront to the Other. [...] They do, however, make good starting points for negotiation. In essence, we make the Other feel at home. Lucy took note of those, deviating from the focus on the three Others as she thought about Kennet Others.

Could be useful in not torching their relationships with all the Others of Kennet if they have to bind someone?

“Isn’t Kennet a hallow?” Avery asked, hushed. “Some of the same ideas,” Lucy whispered back.

oooh that's a neat way of looking at it

“What if I say I’ll shoot you if you let any monsters loose?  Does that bind your actions?” Lucy asked.  “Seems a lot more manageable than dealing with a random monster that scares even an expert practitioner.”

clever. and very funny.

Even though this didn't end up working out, I feel like Lucy should get some credit with Durocher for thinking of it. It was going along the same lines she wanted students thinking of ("I can't fight those creatures") and taking an out-of-the-box approach. It also seemed like a good application of what Durocher was saying at the very beginning of the class about non-practice forms of binding.

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 200,

Morning thought: I wonder how they reckon the turn of the new year in this place?  As I recall, in my past world we counted it in early winter.  Sometime around now actually, given that the solstice was a couple of weeks ago.  Come to think of it, I’m not sure they even do distinctly mark the passage of years here.  They’re strangely averse to calendars here.  Part of the reason reorganizing the archive took so long.

Wait, but they still celebrate birthdays and refer to their ages by year.  Is this another “outsider auto translation” paradox?  This is going to bug me now until I ask someone about it, isn't it?

*******

No mists today, so no funeral.  In retrospect I probably should have gone outside to check on that before making my morning entry.

Anyway, back to yesterday’s exploration.

Once we’d confirmed that we could all hear the chanting I passed out the notebooks I’d taken from the archive.  The plan was for us all to try transcribing what we heard.  While the chanting did seem to be composed of multiple voices, as far as any of us could tell they all seemed to be speaking the same words in unison.  Thankfully the language of the Village uses a phonetic script, otherwise I’m not sure how we would have gone about writing down a bunch of unknown words.

First though, we took our time walking about the cathedral to see if we could identify a source for the chanting.  A task made confoundingly difficult by the apparent lack of direction to the sound, if indeed it truly even was a sound.  At any rate, covering our ears did nothing to make it quieter, yet talking loudly enough seemed to drown it out.  Almost like the ringing from a mild case of tinnitus; maddeningly loud when all else is quiet yet add in a little ambient noise and you practically forget it was ever there.

That all said the chanting did seem to get marginally louder the closer one got to the Reader statue.  Not that the statue was making the noise per say, for we could feel no vibration when pressing our hands to it and walking around it did nothing to the apparent directionality - or lack thereof - of the sound.  The best analogy I can think to give is one that I’m not sure if the Village’s language even has words for and I’m liable to give myself a headache if I try to think about or examine any of the individual words.  Said analogy being to compare the Reader statue to a wireless transmission antenna and our ears/brains/minds to receivers for the chanting.  The closer you get, the better the signal strength.

*******

Got curious and tried to really go back and examine those last two sentences I wrote a letter at a time then a word at a time.  It was… unpleasant.  Even more than I expected.  Headache, dizziness, nausea, the works.  Probably the worst reaction I’ve had to trying to bypass the auto translation.  Even worse than the first time I tried doing it before spending the weeks leading up to the rainy season practicing.  I wound up needing to take a break and lie down for a bit.

On the bright side, it makes for a decent topic transition as the only other time that came close to that was when I tried doing the phonetic transcriptions yesterday.  That made for an unexpected complication in our plans.  Not to mention that Maiko wasn’t yet quite proficient enough in writing to be able to keep up with the transcription as the words of the chant were being said.

Amending the plan, we decided that Cass, Lin, and Vernon would sit around the Reader while Maiko and I would keep walking around to see if there were any other loud spots or places where the chant seemed to change.

Maiko initially suggested that we split up to make the searching go faster, but I wasn’t about to go anywhere by myself on (probably) haunted ground.  

As we’d already noted in our initial sweep that the volume of the chanting swiftly dropped off as soon as we started to go down the stairs to the catacombs, we started by heading back out the door to case the surrounding area with its ruined foundations of side buildings.  That proved to be a less than fruitful endeavor.  The chanting - already quiet at that distance from the reader - cut off abruptly along with the chill as soon as we crossed the threshold, and nowhere amongst the wider ruins did it return.  We were just discussing the prospect of Maiko climbing to the lower terrace of the roof and checking to see if the voices could be heard from any of the broken windows when the rain that had been going all morning finally ceased.

Rejoining the others back inside the now quiet cathedral we compared notes over a lunch of what food we’d brought with us while we waited to see if the rain would return.  We confirmed that we were all hearing the same words, whatever they were, although there were - as expected - discrepancies in interpretations of pronunciations and how to best transliterate them.  And while there were gaps where someone’s focus would waver or their hand would cramp up resulting in missed words, having three sets of notes mostly patched those up.  Some words or phrases did seem to come up more than others, but during their time of transcription nothing ever seemed to loop.  Additionally, everyone that was in the cathedral at the time agreed that when the rain stopped, the voices cut off mid-sentence.

After an hour or so, the rain came back, harder this time.  The chanting seemed louder as well.

This time around Cass, Lin, and Vernon split up to different spots in the cathedral just in case there might be any variance in position beyond volume.  Meanwhile, Maiko and I returned to the catacomb.

We weren’t quite halfway down that spiraling staircase when I had another episode, flashing for a second - if even that long - to the other, capital-C Catacombs.  Thank goodness Maiko was there to catch me, or else I might have broken my neck tumbling down the stairs when my vision and awareness shifted.  What I saw in that moment  (or rather, heard) was the second most exciting thing of the day.

As ever in those nightmares, I was alone but I could still hear the chanting.  What’s more, I could understand it.  Unfortunately, it was too brief to make out more than a few words, taken mid-sentence, useless without context.

“-and then we will a-”

And then we will what?  Ascend?  Ask?  Answer? Aspirate?  As much as I’d like to think it’s that first one, there’s really no way of knowing for now.  I’ve never known it to rain on a mist night, and even if it did, it would hardly be safe to sleep down there with shades about.

Then again, for reasons I’ll get to shortly, perhaps not so unsafe as one might expect at first glance.

Once we finished our descent tumble-free it was obvious that the chanting was utterly absent here.  Maybe the rain had stopped already, but if that were the case, one of the others likely would have come down to let us know.  And so we began walking that pillared space once more, stopping and listening at intervals to see if the chanting returned as our location shifted.

Nothing.  Not even when standing directly under the Reader.

And then Maiko put a hand on one of the sarcophagi.  Gasped.  Told me to come over and do the same.

When I did so I could hear the chanting once more.  After a fashion.  Where the chanting heard above was comprised of many voices in unison, this was a singular speaker.  As I took my hand on and off the carved stone lid the voice started and stopped.  Or at least my ability to hear it did.  A quick test of Maiko keeping her hand on the sarcophagus and repeating the words as she heard them confirmed that the chant kept going without me listening and when I returned my hand I’d be hearing the same as Maiko.  Testing a few others, we confirmed that with each we heard a voice unique to that particular sarcophagus.

Maiko suggested that we check other sarcophagi to see if any of them were saying anything different from one another before we went back up to retrieve the others and have them record what they could hear down here.  It seemed a reasonable enough plan and I went along with it, thinking no more of it.  Nor did I object beyond a request to stay in eye and ear contact when Maiko said we ought to split up to check more at once.

I made the connection some time later when I heard a shout from the other end of the catacombs and realized I’d let Maiko out of my sight.  It wasn’t a loud shout.  The sort of noise you make when you want to scream in anger or frustration but are trying to stay quiet at the same time so it comes out more like a grunt.  Not loud enough to be heard by anyone upstairs.

I ran toward the noise, catching up just in time to see Maiko straining to dislodge the lid from a sarcophagus.  She ignored my cry as she lifted and pushed.  It was a strain even for her, but with a grinding of stone on stone she managed enough to peak in through a corner.  At times like that, I wonder if there’s something supernatural to her strength on top of her size and musculature.

Not that there was much time for such musings.  The deed was done, and by then I was close enough to peer around Maiko and take a look myself, curious despite all my protestations mere moments before.

Inside was a shade.

It was hard to get a good look at it through that aperture and their forms are indistinct by nature, so there was no way to tell if it had horns like Maiko or other features like Iole’s Ascended illustrations, but there was no mistaking what it was.  And just like a shade at morning’s first light, it melted and disappeared before our eyes.

A shade.

Lying in a box.

During the daytime.

And it dissipated when we opened the box.

Lining the interior of the sarcophagus on every surface I could see were carvings.  Inset into these carvings, filling them, were pieces of metal that brought to mind Priscilla’s map box and the machines in Melaina’s workshop, each perfectly shaped to fill their slot and flush with the surface.  Whether they were more examples of that ancient script or abstract geometric shapes I was too busy fighting down the warring reactions of panic and adrenaline to say with any certainty.

Maiko returned the lid to its original place without another word.

We stared at each other for a time.

Back to the stairs, still not a word.

No chanting from the box when I put my hand on it just before leaving.

Upstairs the others greeted us and asked if we found anything interesting down there given how long we’d been gone.

I told them that it was quiet down there, but if you put your hand on a sarcophagus you could hear chanting.  Just one voice, and a different voice per sarcophagus.

Neither of us mentioned opening one.

Cass of course literally jumped at the chance to head right down and try it out for herself.  Lin volunteered to stay up top and keep transcribing while Cass and Vernon went down and recorded what they heard there.  Maiko volunteered to escort them down and show them while I stayed to keep Lin company.

No one ever mentioned any kind of change or disruption that might have been connected to the release(?) of that shade.

We stayed in those grouping assignments until the rain stopped.  A second round of note comparisons indicated that, as best we could tell, the downstairs chanting was in sync with the upstairs.

Afterwards, we called it a day and headed back out, Maiko to the house and the rest of us to the Village in case the mists came the next morning and we were required for the funeral.  I’ve got hold of all three notebooks now.  Or rather, I did, but I’ve hidden them until I’m ready to go through them with Cass.  I worry this is the sort of answer-seeking that Theo wouldn’t take well to if he caught wind of it.

Speaking of Cass, I suppose I should mention that I’ve had her doing various bits of busywork around the archive today while I come up with excuses not to start going through the notes in detail yet.  Mostly I’m still trying to decide whether to tell her about Maiko opening that sarcophagus (“umbraphagus”?).  I’d hoped that writing down what happened would help get my thoughts in order for making a decision, but I’m not much further on that than when I started.

I’m still not sure why I didn’t tell the others about that, and it makes me sick keeping them in the dark like that.  And yet every time I start to I find myself either stopping or changing the subject.  The best words I can think to put to it is it feels like that Maiko and I crossed a line with our transgression, breaking too strong a taboo to even speak of the deed afterward.

First chance I get I should talk it over with Maiko.

Putting off thinking about a little while longer though, two hundred days.  That feels like another milestone.  I ought to say something retrospective here but I’m not sure what.  Some poetic comparison about the happenstance bookending of anticipating tomorrow’s funerary mist night compared to one hundred’s looking forward to a sunny day at the beach (and weird, revelatory conversation with Pat)?  Maybe a comparison of my experience of the island’s seasons?  How about this: a disclaimer to readers, whether future archivists, the future outsiders, or even my future self taking a stroll down memory lane.

If you haven’t figured out by now, I’m not a reliable narrator.  No one truly is, but I worry I may be worse than most in these journals of mine.  I simplify.  I streamline.  I’m far from objective in my descriptions.  I guess at people’s emotions because I’m bad at reading them and I probably make their personalities come across as flatter than they are because I record only my limited perspective and their relations to me.  I fill in blanks in my memory for the sake of narrative.  

The purpose of these journals from the beginning has been to help me make sense of myself and my circumstances, and this is how I do that.  Does that make me a bad archivist?  Perhaps, but I like to think it makes me human, and this was never for the official record anyway.

All of this, what has come before and what is yet to come, is not a record of events as they happened but as I experienced them.  We would all do well to remember the difference.

<==Previous          Next==>

[cielwells]

Status Update - March 2024, First Month

Background

Quick background and context for anyone stumbling onto this.  On the twelfth, March 12, I decided to try to turn this into a draw/sketch a day thing.  I was already trying to draw at least three times a week and my streak was at 43.  While not 100% accurate, it seemed a good enough number to start at to avoid fighting with my streak keeping app.

The reason I sometimes include “53/53” and the like is because I am not fully abandoning the original three times a week thing.  The first number is the number done.  The second is the current “days since the project started”.

Reflections

The Format

Since this wasn’t planned, I’ve encountered a few things that could be adjusted going forward. 

The collage above?  Yeah, I decided to try for it early on but I didn’t think about making it non-sanity damaging to put together.  Maybe this works with gaps and the like? 

Maybe it is just my fear of having it too big and wasting people’s time and bandwidth.  Maybe it gives the vibes of collaging in books and physical sketchpads.

… I’m not undecided on whether to go for a strictly organized system or just giving each day more breathing room.

In any case, I started using the iOS Clip Studio’s default 4:3 canvas that is 1600 x 1200px.  When I started posting these online more frequently I switched to the square (1640 x 1640 px) because “Instagram”.  Before switching to “Sticker Size” (370 x 320 px) thinking the smaller canvas would be easier to work with.  Before switching between a few of the others once I realized how small the sticker canvas was to other days when compared.

I am, was, until I began writing this section at least, planning to go back to square for consistency’s sake.  Only, I don’t think that will work.  Welcome to real time self reflection folks!  The train has left the script.  It’s 10:19, I need to be at my Easter “Dinner” location at noon.  Only future me knows if I pushed this out beforehand or waited until I got home to clean this up, and practical time travel isn’t invented yet. 

I’m now doubting the square decision for two reasons.  In exploring the different canvas sizes and shapes I’ve started to get a feel for the canvas affects what is created. 

I don’t know if I would have gone for the torso of 61 in a square as I went into it wanting to attempt something with the head.  I like how the torso came out and really disliked the head.

I believe with 55 I cropped it down from a square despite being drawn in a square. 

I’ve caught myself starting to use drawn color swatches for consistency and more room on the canvas leaves more room for them.

Skill Improvement

I guess I can say I improved some.  After 45, Toga, I realized I needed more practice with facial directions.  This lead to more focused practice on that with days 46 through 51 with the last one just focuses on eyes and iris direction.

Then I needed to do something I felt was funner and I felt more passion for, 52 Sukuna.  I didn’t succeed in all my goals for that day.  The lips specifically. 

There are also blow-off days.  59 – Godzilla is the only example I clearly remember.  By time I was “done” I realized I was in so need of breather day that I didn’t even mark that this was, in fact, drawn with a reference.  56 – Snowman was probably a similar low point but I went with a simpler subject to concentrate what bandwidth I had more constructively.

Day 60 – Needlewise?  No, that was trying.  It was me trying to snap out of the duldrums.  The focused practice for that day was this technique I’ve heard and seen about using thicker outlines for the shape and thinner lines inside the “model”.  See on the arms?  This combined with wanting some darn color.  I missed color by this point, which I’ve avoided near all month because I wanted to focus on the basic… is it line art?  I’m also mildly annoyed that the minimalist details in the dessert got covered up by the cactaur once I unhid it.  I could have avoided this if I just greatly reduced the cactaur’s transparency instead of hiding the layer entirely.

Final Thoughts

One thing I think I need to do more of is watch more guides.  Needlewise shows me that knowing something is a thing doesn’t mean I can do it anywhere close to reasonable on my own. 

Me realizing I’m not 100% what I was focusing on, in general, this month is lineart or something else tells me I’m missing some fundamentals in terminology.  If I don’t know the terms then finding guides will be harder.

One thing I like about the Takodachi, 61, Rule 63 v-tuber, and the gnome is that I knew when to stop for the day.  Some advice I’m seeing a lot in videos on the daily drawing topic and general improvement is not drawing for hours and hours just to draw.  Unless you are doing it for fun.  With each I hit some sort of wall, reached a satisfactory minimum amount of goal achieving, and moved on. 

Looking at all the different things I’ve tried, I do wonder if I shouldn’t focus on one specific thing more next month.  Then I look at Sukuna and 55-B the landscape.  I know myself.  If I spent a month working on only lips or only eyes, unless it just groked with me in a fun way, I would begin to resent this project.  I still wish I had a style I knew I wanted to shoot for so that I could at least do variations of topics around that style.

[writing-fanics]

𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝔐𝔬𝔯𝔭𝔥𝔢𝔲𝔰 𝔵 𝔉!ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

chapter one: dancing in the moonlight > chapter two: so this love

«summary: Dream decides to go to a ball. Where the L/n’s are trying to find their daughter a courtship»

<warning: dream : huge amounts of sexual tension : dancing with dream (you will be squealing) : mentions of familial death>

a/n: just imagine that howls moving castle theme song exists during this time. reference to Dickensian (but isn’t Arthur Havisham just uses his last name not affiliated with his character) also my best at writing a romantic dance scene.

Play this when you get to the dance scene (Merry-Go-Round-Of Life-)

She stood in the corner of the room. Her hands held the delicate wine glass; raising it to her lips. Sipping on the wine. Unamused by the party going on around her turning towards her friend, “This party is such a bore.” She groaned, taking a sip of her wine.

“Oh, come on Y/n enjoy the party.” Susan exclaimed. Looking at (Y/n) who rolled her eyes in response.

“Ah, yes a party just so I might find a courtship.” (Y/n) seethed, watching the young men around the room.

“You’ve declined every single one so far brought before you.” Susan said, and (Y/n) chuckled.

“Yes, and I enjoy it. It’s rather fun doing so. Since I have no intentions of marrying someone who only cares for my looks and my status and wealth.” (Y/n) says, finishing up her wine and placing the glass on the draw as a servant walks by.

“But you might find the one tonight.” Susan says, wiggling her eyebrows causing (Y/n) to giggle. “Such rarity that will be.” (Y/n) says, folding her arms across her chest not interacting with the crowd.

“Oh, look here comes Lord Havisham.” Susan said, causing a groan to escape (Y/n)’s mouth.

(Y/n) forced a smile on her lips as she greeted him, raising her hand for him to kiss. “You look rather ravishing tonight, Lady L/n,” He says, and she smiled disdainfully.

“Thank you,” She said, letting her hand fall to her side. As she looks at him annoyed, this man has been practically throwing himself at her for months. “Might I say, doesn’t your wife know that you’re here?” She asks.

“Flirting with another woman? I mean it’s quite ungentlemanly to try and court another.” She replies.

“I’m sure your wife would be furious.” She said, then looks over to the other side of the room. Seeing Mary talking to (Y/n)’s little sister.

“There she is over there.” She grinned, and he looked towards his wife’s direction his face red as he stormed away.

“You won’t tell her will you?” He asked, a smug smile grew on her lips.

“Why, shouldn’t I. Your advances towards me are quite unwelcomed and I’ve declined you many times.” She said, raising an eyebrow.

She began walking towards his wife, when he grabbed her roughly by the wrist. “You dare touch me without my permission.” She seethed, her face red as she glared at him.

“You’ve got no right talking back to me.” He said, and she laughed at him.

“No right? I have the right to decline a man who’s practically throwing themselves at a woman who’s declined them many times before.” She roughly pulled away from his grip, walking towards his wife once more.

She walks towards his wife and whispers into her ear. Mary’s eyes widened as her head snapped into the direction of her husband.

His face paled as she stormed towards him grabbing him roughly by the ear. She swiftly thanked (Y/n). As she dragged him out of the party.

(Y/n) now standing in the corner of the room. Taking a glass of wine off the tray and sipping it, “I want this party to be over with.” She groaned, unamused by the party.

She couldn’t chat with Susan for she’s dancing. (Y/n) wanted to sneak out of the party and up to her bedchambers.

“Might, I have this dance?” A voice asked. She was about to decline until she saw the man before.

His silver blue eyes, his hair as black as a raven. Her voice got caught in her throat, he kissed her hand causing her cheeks to glow a tint of red.

“Yes.” She squeaked, she looked down embarrassed. She didn’t know why her heart was pounding against her chest.

As he lead her the center of the room. Then as if it were magic the band started playing her favorite song. She always imagined herself dancing in a field to this song.

Merry Go Round of Life. She didn’t know why she was feeling so nervous in the moment. Just moments ago she was fine sipping on her wine. She’s been asked to dance countless times. But none of them compared to this, he placed his arm just above her waist.

As the music began, they started dancing. (Y/n) stared into his eyes as they danced. She swore she could see the entire cosmos in his eyes. Her stomach fluttered as he his lips curled into a smile. Her cheeks turned a light shade of red.

His arm wrapped around her waist. Holding her close as they danced. Her heart pounding against her chest. The world around her seemed to stop. She’d just met this man and she already felt some sort of connection.

She stared into his eyes with wonder, as he looked down at her as they danced. She couldn’t help but him along to the song trying to calm her nerves, as well gently swaying her head to the music.

He spun her around gently heart once again skipping a beat. As they danced along to the music, others in the room watching as the young lady danced with the man.

She felt like she were a princess in a fairytale. She felt as if that they were dancing on a cloud. He spun her around once again, she felt as if she was losing more air even with this corset on. This felt like a dream and one she never wanted to wake up from.

She wanted to speak to say something. But her words got caught in her throat, all the blood in her body seemed to rush towards her cheeks. Giving it that red tint that spreads across her cheeks. This had to be a dream right? There isn't anyway this could possibly be real?

The nights rays seemed to reflect onto his eyes. His eyes sparkled as if his irises were made up of stars. Yet even as she looked into his eyes. She still felt a cold demeanor his eyes were giving off. Dream stared down at her as they danced her eyes seemed to sparkle, as the moons light crept through the windows. His arm wrapped around her waist and his around hers, as they danced in circle.

She couldn't stop staring into his eyes; seemingly getting lost in the stars as she did so. Her lips curled into a smile as she looked into his eyes. When his lips curled into a smile as he gazed down at her making her stomach flutter.

Susan's eyes widened seeing (Y/n) on the ballroom floor dancing. Her mouth dropped. (Y/n) turned towards her and smiled softly. That's when she noticed other people almost everyone was watching her dance with the stranger. Her eyes darted around the room seeing everyone standing in a circle.

"Everyone's watching." She whispered, her cheeks bright red. Not liking all the attention that she was getting from the guests. Susan being the good friend immediately took notice of her friends situation. Lily and Susan looked at each other and nodded, Lily let out a shrill scream.

Causing everyone to look towards her as Susan pretended to be passed out on the ground. As the guests ran over to see what the problem was, he seemed to take notice and they made their way towards the garden.

"It seems your friend caused a distraction so we might escape." He says, and moved her lips inward slightly. "Oh, yes seeming me dance was quite a shock for her." She said, and he looked down at her.

"I usually, reject those who ask me to dance." She said, as they continued to dancing. The music fading as they got further and further away from the party inside.

"Then why accept a dance with me?" He asked, and she looked up at him. Her cheeks turning a bright red, "I ah, I-I don't know." She replied, sheepishly. He raised his right eyebrow as he looked down at her, he pulls her closer to him causing her heart to skip as beat as they continued dancing.

She was about to ask for his name when she realized where they were. Her mother's flower garden. Rows and rows of beautiful flowers of different colors. Straight out of a fairytale. A little cottage lied further ahead a small cobblestone path lead up to it. Her smile faltered as she looked around the garden, "This was my mother's favorite place." She said, looking up at him.

The dancing now ceased, they released their hold on each other. She knelt down beside the flowers smiling as she looked at them, "She passed away when my little sister was born." She says, standing up and looking at him.

"I'm sorry for your loss." He says, and she smiled softly looking at him. Realizing because of her they stopped dancing, "Sorry, I stopped dancing without-" She sighed, looking down at her hands. He stepped closer towards her causing her to look up at him.

"I don't usually enjoy theses kinds of party." She says, looking at him and he smirked, as they walked alongside each other. "I don't usually enjoy parties either," He says, as they started walking down the stoned path of the garden.

"But this one was rather." He said, looking down the path alongside her, walking past an array of beautiful flowers. "Entertaining." He finishes, and she chuckles softly. "I could say the same thing." She replies, and he looked down at her as she grinned.

"I'm happy to hear that you've found the party entertaining." She says, their gaze met and her cheeks once again turned red. They stared at each other for a moment her heart pounding against her chest as she gazed into his eyes.

"Y/n, your father is looking for you!" Susan shouted, and (Y/n) looked up towards her and sighed, not wanting the moment between her and him to end.

"Sorry, I must be going." She says, sadly. "Farewell," He says, taking her hand bringing towards her lips and kissing it. She smiled, and his lips curled upward into a smile.

"Farewell to you too." She said, before removing her hand slowly from his grasp. Then turning to walk up the stairs, towards the inside.

She then realized she hadn't asked for his name. Stopping on the stairs. "Oh, I forgot whats your-" She turned around, "Name?" She finished, realizing that he had disappeared. She looked around any sign of him not finding any. She sighed walking up the stairs and back inside.

Taglist:

@nebulosa-reina @stygianoir @catcher11 @pinksirensong @all-things-fandomstuck

[youn9racha]

Long Night

Requested by: @everleigh-davina

Pairing: bff!Jisung x bff!reader (afab) x bff!hyunjin

Genre: smut

Words: 1.2 k

Warning: dom!jisung, dom!hyunjin, sub!reader, threesome (?), jealous!jisung, jealous!hyunjin, elements of fwb, blatant d/s dynamic, choking, degradation, oral sex, dacryphilia, corruption kink, cuckolding, fingering, edging.

Extra Notes: yay, finally i’m back to being a smut writer (im gonna kms if i’m actually referred to that 🧎‍♀️nothing wrong with it, its just not my cup of tea) and its gOOD TO BE BACK BABY 🤑 idk if it’s because i haven’t written smut in a while, i feel like it’s so weird writing jisung as a dom ngl 💀💀 idk what it is, but it’s natural for hyunjin, but jisung ?!?! its almost disrespectful to put him there, but granted it is a request so im here to fullfill their needs so i hope you enjoyed it 🙏

——————————————————————————

This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised.

——————————————————————————

“You really think you were slick, huh?”

Jisung harshly spoke as he moved up close to you, making you back away until you bumped into someone behind you, Hyunjin, who matched up the facial expression as Jisung, which was definitely not a smile he was known for.

Both maintained a not-so-sweet expression and you weren’t too sure why is that. The three of you were having a wonderful time at a party, so why did Jisung and Hyunjin just picked you up and dragged you up to a room with anger fueling in their faces?

“What the hell did i do?” You attempted to fight back as you looked at the two furious men, making them look at each other and mocking laugh at your own idiocy that you’re not even aware of showcasing. Jisung grabbed your jaw harshly, making you gasp, “so you’re unaware of how much of a slut you are?“ Jisung tsked at your cluelessness, which made Hyunjin snicker darkly and you furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

”What are you talking abou—what’s with you two?”

”So you really just going to act like you didn’t just throw yourself onto Minho like that?” Hyunjin smiled, but it was a menacing smile, you knew that just based on his tone hitting your ears from behind you, as he held onto your arms, restricting you from any movements, while Jisung mirrored his exact facial expression, getting it close to you, leaving you to gulp at the strong grip and gaze from both sides.

You and the two men have a rather.. interesting relationship. The three of you were best friends for a couple of years now and as time passes by, it gets more stronger and intense, now you three get to see more of each other no one else saw, literally. You don’t remember how it started, but you remembered it started between you and Jisung. The two of you were one day talking in his bed, and one thing let to another and suddenly clothes were shed off of your bodies and the room was filled with the scent of sex.

You two weren’t by any means attracted to each other romantically, but you certainly do not mind the activities you both partake in. You both couldn’t lie, you guys are very attractive, regardless of relatioship status. And Hyunjin seems to agree, as he always compliments both of you.

Suddenly, he has slowly started to get involve with both of your shenanigans. It started when he practically walked in on you two, naked and inside of each other. He would lie that he didn’t find that hot, so he straightforwardly asked if he can join, to which you both didn’t say no, and the rest was history.

Which leads us to you being put in between both of your best friends, absolutely horrified, yet aroused over the way you’re put into a vulnerable position. However, you stood your ground and gave a stern look, despite only looking at Jisung, the expression was directed to both men. ”So what if I did? Neither of you are my boyfriend, so be—“ your words were cut by a sudden grip on your neck from behind, makinh you gasp at the sudden action. Hyunjin from behind smirked and got closer to your ears, whipsering “know your place, whore.”

”Just because we’re not your boyfriends, doesn’t mean you can go around and be a slut,” Jisung proceeded, getting his face even closer.

You felt trapped, like as if you cannot move.

Jisung backed away, “on your knees,” he commanded you, and pointed downwards, his finger and voice automatically tranced you to go down, your bare knees touching the cold ground of your bedroom. You looked down in fear, shame and arousal, making hyunjin roughly pull your hair up, your head pulled back harshly, making you moan at the sudden movement.

“I’ll take it from there,” Jisung nodded at Hyunjin, pulling taking your hair instead of his hand. Hyunjin backed away and sat on the chair, observing you two. You were looking up, lips quivering, while Jisung was looking down at you with a villainous smile, unbuckling his belt while his hand is still in your hair.

”Open wide, princess,” Jisung said, knowing the petname made you weak. Your lips were shaking but your mouth were ultimately open wide. After Jisung successfully took off his pants and boxers, revealing his erected length, which slapped you upon its release, he held your jaw, “now, suck like the whore you are.”

You nodded, as you pushed your own head down his length, attempting to push aside your gag reflex as it hit the back of your throat. Jisung took full control of the pace and the way your head go, as he thrusts upon your throat, throwing his head back in pleasure.

While your throat was used for Jisung’s pleasuing needs, behind you can sense Hyunjin’s intense eyes were on you, however he wasn’t just silently sitting and admiring the scenery in front of him. His breathing were shaky and you can hear rubbing noises, thats when you know he was indeed touching himself.

Your eyes were getting teary as Jisung’s pull on your hair were getting rougher, however he senses his release getting close as his cock twitches into your mouth, and his moans and grunts were breaking. He twists his head down towards you, and says ”you’re going to swallow up all of it, you got that, slut?”

If you could only nod, but too bad your head was occupied by Jisung’s hand. Meanwhile, Hyunjin’s hand movements were getting faster at the sight in front of him, he sees your mascara running down your face, and he went absolutely wild with it, rolling his head back as he felt himself also nearing his release.

Jisung’s moaned as he spills his all down your throat, on cue with Hyunjin’s orgasm as well. You felt warm liquid going down your throat, and remembered the promise you gave to Jisung. Once he released himself out of your mouth, your mouth closed almost instantly, hesitant to swallow the content in the back of your throat. The way he was looking at you was a silent command to you to swallow.

You looked up at him, eye make up smeared, black tears running down your cheeks, and glossy, puppy eyes were on his face as you swallowed everything with a slight grimace. After the action, you sighed and stuck out your tongue out for him.

The smirk grew on his face, as he held your jaw, ”look at that, Hyunjin,” he pushed your head to Hyunjin’s direction, your eyes met with Hyunjin‘s face, giving him a clear view of your throat. Despite his disheveled hair was covering his 70% of his face, you can still distinguish the dark, lust filled in his eyes.

“The whore got all it down,” Jisung continued making Hyunjin snicker while he started to unbutton his shirt. Your tongue were put back in your mouth, and closing it with a pout. Jisung let go of your chin and pushed you onto Hyunjin, your face landing onto his feet.

“You take care of her, I’m gonna go get cleaned up and I’ll be back with extra stuff,” and there after he announced, he was out of the room, and now you were on the ground, not daring to look up at the man seated in front of you.

“Look at me,”

His voice was dark and you felt yourself shaking at the rumble of his voice. You slowly looked up at him, and sat up for him to have a clearer look. He just examined your pitiful state, and how he enjoyed seeing you like this. If he could he could take a picture of you right now, he would, but he would save it for another time.

He looked down at you, blank stared, “take off your clothes.”

The only ability you were capable of doing was follow his and Jisung’s order, so you stood up and began undressing yourself. Once you were bare in front of him, you felt embarrassed as he was just looking at you without any expression, but his eyes were saying otherwise.

He began rubbing his lap, “come here,” his voice was hushed. He may be very dominant and rough, but his actions and commands were less sporadic than Jisung’s so you couldn’t help but feel even weaker with Hyunjin.

Once you were sat in his lap, he hissed at the sensation of your wet core hitting his skin. “You enjoy getting humiliated like that don’t you?” He snickered, as he began holding you closer to him and his fingers drumming your knees. All you could was look down in shame, which made Hyunjin pull your face back to him, “keep your eyes on me, got it?”

You nodded back at him, biting your bottom lips, while he smirks at you, “good,” and there he pulled you in a kiss. It was very heated and wanton in nature, with his tongue being dragged against yours. Without you realizing, his fingers were placed in between your thighs, slowly beginning to touch your wet slit. Once his fingers landed on it, you moaned into this mouth with the slight drag of his fingers into your clit.

His fingers started to create circular movements right along your clit before he ultimately started to shove his two fingers into your wet hole, making you moan even louder and throwing your head back. Instead of throwing your head back at him like he and Jisung were doing earlier, Hyunjin began diving in into your neck started to mark up the empty skin, while his fingers were still doing all the work.

His fingers hitting the spots whilst his thumb was playing around the bud on top. His mouth moved from your neck down to your chest, your mewls were getting louder as you felt yourself getting closer.

”I’m close..”

You moaned out, but Hyunjin stopped his movement and removed his fingers out of slit, making you whine over the lack of penetration and clenching onto nothing.

“You thought I was going to be easy on you?” Hyunjin questioned, venomous in his tone, which made you pout in fear. As if on cue, Jisung walked in with a rope in one hand and a vibrator in his other, making you look horrified into whats to come.

“Is she ready?” Jisung questioned Hyunjin.

He looked at you, with an evil grin, and then back at Jisung.

”Yes, she is.” It’s going to be a long night for you….

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. III

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 17k (im sorry omg)

➵ warnings : oh boi we have aNgSt, serious familial issues, swearing, multiple fight scenes, mainly verbal but there is a slap in one, mentions of a wound, mentions of alcohol, (there’s honestly a lot that goes wrong in this chapter but at least tae and the reader have each other), sexual tension :o, bit of possessive!tae, (i mention a short reader a lot but i just wanted to say you’re beautiful even if you’re tall! tae is just very tall to me askldjs)  

➵ a/n: i’m back and hoLY is this chapter loaded (and a lil unedited forgive me!!) i’ve finally finished school and get a whole month off now! who knows what works i’ll release in that time 👀. as always, feedback is appreciated loves!

chapter three : “the window opened one time with you and me”

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“Mother?” You stood frozen, completely and utterly shocked as to how your mother was just opposite of you, smiling brightly as if she hadn’t done a single thing wrong in her life and loved you unconditionally.

How incredibly wrong that was. 

“Y/N! How are you? Oh dear, it’s been so long!” Your mother threw her arms around your neck, pulling you against her for a hug you just barely returned. 

“Good. You?” 

“Oh, I’m great!” She beamed.

“What are you doing here?” You inquired, shutting the door after her entry.

“Ah, I just couldn’t believe my daughter’s married now, I wanted to drop by and say congratulations!” Your mother cheered, grinning widely as she began scanning the grand interior of your house, leering as though you weren’t standing just before her.

“Drop by? You could’ve just came to the wedding, Mother...” You suggested despondently, plastering a pained smile onto your face. You attempted to meet her eyes, though they rather seemed to sparkle at anything that appeared expensive.

Anything but you. 

“Oh, I was in Ibiza. I couldn’t just leave while my resort pass still had benefits on it, you know me.” She flashed you a cheeky smile as she playfully hit you, propping her heels off.

You nodded half heartedly, trying extremely hard to not lose it on her because you were in your home; a place meant for peace and comfort and didn’t have room for negative.

Not to mention, Taehyung resided just upstairs in his study with most likely his door open, and you didn’t want to risk bothering him if you raised your voice. 

“Ibiza was more important than your own daughter’s wedding, huh?” You spoke to yourself, nodding in a manner that would somehow help you accept the sad fact, though instead called forth a feeling you should’ve grown accustomed to by now.

Disappointment.

She knew about the wedding, you knew your father informed her of the ceremony along with its date and time. Though as she audaciously ogled the embellishments of your front foyer and spoke to you carelessly, she practically screamed she gave 0 fucks about your wedding. That what really mattered to her was living out the full experience of an expensive vacation than attending a life-changing night for her daughter. 

Typical. 

“Oh, c’mon now. When you put it like that it makes me seem so bad.” Your mother pouted like a child. “It wasn’t a real marriage, anyway.” She waved off the conversation as she ventured further into the house, bold enough to strike another conversation . “My God, this is the house of the Kim Taehyung?” Your mother’s eyebrows shot up, drinking in the grand size and wealthy look of the home. “You got very lucky, Y/N.” 

You cocked an eyebrow, incredulous of what she was insinuating. “What do you mean, Mother?” 

“Y/N, you’re married to Kim Taehyung. Do you understand how fantastic that is? For you?” Your mother was on the verge of scoffing, smoothing over her dress as she looked elsewhere. “He’s an incredibly rich man, and considering that life of yours it’s a miracle he ever agreed to marry you.” Your mother relayed nonchalantly as she caught sight of an exquisite vase. 

And there it was, the belittling. You’d mentioned before you were often disparaged and received numerous insults when anything concerned your status as the runaway heiress. But what you failed to mention was the person who claimed the #1 position as your largest and most incessant hater. 

Your mother. 

“Mother, it doesn’t matter to me whether a man is rich or not.” You countered, trying to quell your snippy tone but it was as grand a fail your mother was at being a mother. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Unlike you, I’m not obsessed with my husband’s money.” You almost spat with crossed arms, only this comment causing her to turn towards you. 

“Excuse me? I’m your mother, watch your tone a little.” She scolded quite lightly, before returning to inspect a painting. 

You scoffed, “My mother...” you repeated under your breath, rolling your eyes. 

“No mumbling, Y/N. Speak up.”

“I said it’s funny you’re referring to yourself as my mother.” You voiced clearer.

“And why is that so funny?” You could visibly see your mother failing to control her temper with you, masking it all behind a fake smile she mastered ages ago. 

“Because you’ve been anything but a mother.” You retorted, knowing exactly what this conversation was leading into. 

An argument.

“And you’ve been daughter of the year?” Your mother countered, sarcastic tone cutting the air, and it only made you more irritated. 

“Here we go again, the bad daughter narrative.” You scoffed. “Find something new to argue, will you?” You narrowed your eyes.

“And you believe your bad mother narrative is any better?” She sneered back. “I’ve even come to visit you yet this it how you’re treating me. When will you ever learn to be grateful?”

“Please, you chose a vacation over your own daughter’s wedding.” You held a hand up, gesturing against her audacity. “And when have I ever been ungrateful? I don’t remember biting the hand that fed me.” 

“No, Y/N, you didn’t bite the hand that fed you, you completely neglected and abandoned it.” She claimed, drawing closer towards your direction. “You left this family to pursue your own selfish desires. You’re the very definition of ungrateful.” 

“Excuse me? Definition?” 

“Yes, definition. You threw everything your father worked so hard for away. All he ever wanted was to provide his family with a comfortable life, but you instead wasted his efforts and made everyone's lives so much harder. Do you really think I’ll forgive you for what you did to your older brother?” Your mother voiced in an accusatory tone, bringing up an age old argument you knew was going to ravage any peace between you two. 

“That was not my fault, he was already due for the same thing in Korea, it doesn’t matter if he’s in the U.S now.” You argued back. 

“It’s all your fault! You’re the reason Yoongi hasn’t been able to come home in years! You ruined his entire life by making him uproot and take over the U.S faction when it was your role. Your decision to leave forced him into it!” 

“So you’d rather have my life uprooted and ruined than your precious son’s?”

“Because my son isn’t like you! He isn’t selfish at all, Yoonie is a hard-working man who’s always listened to me and your father, always rightfully prioritized the company. But you? You’ve only ever made things worse. You’re completely useless, all you do is tear this family apart. Your father has to pick up your work, you keep your brother out of this country and give me years worth of stress!” Your mother shouted louder than she should’ve, angry as her eyes revealed searing frustration, contempt. 

You were trying to negate the hurt you felt by her words, having trained yourself to endure their sharp sting, though no matter how many times you heard them, it never made it any easier. 

“Oh please, your favouritism is showing, mother.” You remarked with near tears, her disregard for you so disturbingly apparent it left your eyes watering. 

“Yoongi has always loved his work and the company, but I never have. When will you understand that? If I’ve ruined our family so much why have I never heard these same words from Dad or Yoongi? They’ve always supported me, understood and loved me regardless of what life I chose. Why can’t you do the same? Why can’t you just try to understand me for once?” 

“Because there’s nothing to understand. You’re an heiress to this family, you are meant to live for this company and this company only. You owe your father and I your life, nothing has ever been yours. The least you could do to pay us back is by rightfully working at the company and not being as much of a disappointment as you are now.” You mother’s tone was strict and resolute, utterly fed up with you.

“Cry me a river, mother. I don't owe you a single thing. You’re one to talk about working alongside Dad and the company, all you’ve ever done is use his money without a single care for his work.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad for his money. You know next to nothing about business or the company and have the least amount of right to lecture me about it. At least I’m not a woman who mooches off somebody and lives recklessly!” You snapped back at her with tears just pooling your lash line, arms crossed tightly holding your chest where it felt your heart would collapse.  

“Do you understand who you’re talking to? Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother.” She tried to finalize, but you weren’t having any of it. 

“And I could care less. You’ve never once done anything to warrant that title. All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi. It was always dad despite being so busy, it was never you. You weren't even there for my wedding, when I needed my mother the most. No, you’re someone who’d rather use your rich husband and forget he’s a person.” Your voice was shaking at this point, practically rattling. “You may not have been there for my wedding, but I would never do that to my husband.” You let everything out without a care at the point, flooding the tense air. 

Your mother seemed to completely lose it at this, her tone scarily still as she gritted through her teeth. “You wouldn’t do that to your husband, really? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?” 

You flashed her an incredulous look. “Pardon?”

“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat? Whose lavish lifestyle do you now get to relish in? It’s all your husband’s, not yours.” Your mother was practically spitting venom at this point, scoffing. “I must say, your quest for independence is interesting, having landed you in the exact same place you always berated me for. Look where you are now, mooching off your rich husband.” 

If words could dagger you in the heart and looks could kill, you’d surely be 6 ft. under by now.

Years, years you’ve been stuck in this constant loop of back and fourth with your mother, arguing the same 5 things you could never see eye-to-eye on. And no matter what she said, no matter the insults, the belittling, the verbal abuse she always spat your way; you’d grown used to it. Her words became normal, second nature to you and so you easily drowned them out. Her insults became useless weapons you simply dodged and avoided. 

But this, this was where your mother won. 

Her words dawned a laughable sense of irony on you, nearly physically reeling as though someone had punched you in the gut at the realization. It was raw agony, the very prospect you’d spent the entirety of this ordeal evading. 

To think the same independence you fought so gravely for, can so easily be erased and forgotten all due to marrying a rich CEO. It felt pathetic, unfair you had no choice but to marry Taehyung. It wasn’t his fault he was rich, neither was it yours. 

It was just coincidence, pure and utter coincidence. But to think this very coincidence would be the reason your stomach is churning and self-worth is collapsing; it was fucking unfortunate, miserable. 

“Leave my house, this instance.” There was no emotion in your voice, it was flat, vision clouded.

“What did you say to me?” 

“I said get out!” You yelled, the shrill in your voice evidence of tears. “I don’t ever want to see you again!” 

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me! I’m your mother!” 

“You’re not my mother at all, you’re the worst excuse of one. Leave my house!” 

“It’s not your house, Y/N! It’s your husband’s, and you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!” Your mother had somehow made her way over to you, having the audacity to push you back by your arms, driving her point home by the act of aggression. 

You gritted through your teeth, eyes teary. “I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats on her husband with wealthy men in other countries!”

This was the moment your mother gasped scandalously, becoming so irate she didn’t hesitate to raise her hand and slap you across the face. 

You stood emotionless, not even having the capacity to feel shocked or in pain due to how normal this was. There wasn’t a single unfamiliar thing about the sting of her hand, the way her manicured nails scratched against your skin and worse, the way her wedding ring usually cut into your cheek to produce a small wound. 

It was all too familiar, making you scoff as if this was exactly what you expected from her, exactly what you've always known. 

“You still hit your grown daughter, huh? The last 10 years of it weren’t enough?” You endured the ache, swallowing back tears. You weren’t letting them spill, not at this. 

Not at something as undeserving as your mother. 

“You give reasons to, Y/N.” Your mother simply crossed her arms and looked away, showing the slightest hint of shame though never allowing it to leak into the proud and egotistical persona she assumed around you. 

A suffocating silence pierced the air, looming for some time until you spoke. 

“Leave this house, mother. I beg of you.” You pleaded, not out of desperation, though out of sheer tiredness. Tiredness of the same argument and the same insults you always directed each other, tired of the same outcomes that only ever lead to more bitterness tainting your relationship. “Don’t make this any worse, we’ve probably disturbed Taehyung upstairs.” 

Your mother looked at you with lightly raised eyebrows, inquiring. “He’s home?” 

You nodded faintly. “Yeah, so leave.” 

“Am I not allowed to meet him?” Your mother seemed offended. 

“No, you’re not.” You stated firmly, not caring about the sliver of respect you thought you had for her and instantly pushing her towards your front entrance, nabbing her shoes along the way. 

“What are you-” She didn’t even get to finish her sentence before you swung the front door open, guiding her outside and shoving her shoes in her hands. 

She was about to retort until you shut the door on her, locking it. You leaned against the wood as you heard her protests, not minding her calls as you allowed your constrained tears to finally stream down your face. 

It was too much, she was too much. 

Why could your mother never see eye-to-eye with you? Why couldn’t she be a normal mother? Why couldn’t she be supportive? All she ever did was preach how useless you were, how selfish and ungrateful your very existence was.

Of course someone like her could never understand, never understand the value of autonomy and achieving something for yourself; she’s never once done anything along those lines in her entire life. 

Her words ran deeper today than they ever have, sending a stifling feeling to swarm your chest, your self-esteem and everything alike collapsing along with your pride.

It hurt, it really did. To hear those words from the very woman meant to love you so dearly, so unconditionally only exacerbated the pain. It made you jealous of every child you was gifted with a kind mother, not daring to curse anyone for it but simply feel it was unfair. Even Taehyung had such a warm and loving mother. 

Maybe that’s why Taehyung was so warm. 

Taehyung. 

You realized you were out in the open shedding tears where he could possibly see you, trying to silence the sobs that escaped your lips. You only failed, agony tightening your chest and growing more painful the more you held it all in. So you clutched your hand to your mouth and made straight for the kitchen sink, running the water loudly enough to drown out the sounds of you candidly crying. 

Your cheek still stung, your heart ached and your mind spun endlessly, all while trying to desperately rid yourself of the worthless feeling inside you. 

And it didn’t work. 

Taehyung had been working, scrolling through his laptop as he diligently reviewed status reports, only to have a notification brighten his phone screen. He flashed his occupied vision towards it and caught sight of his security system alerting him of his front door. 

He grew curious knowing the housekeepers were shopping for groceries at this hour, causing him to tap the notification and display the camera feed of his front porch. He was welcomed by a woman he’s never seen, peaking his curiosity. 

He almost rose from his seat until he saw the woman turn towards the door in accordance with you opening it, assuming you most likely knew her as she smiled brightly and ventured comfortably into the home. 

Taehyung shrugged it off and returned to his tedious reading, staring at the practically blurring lines of text until he eventually began hearing raised voices from downstairs, his ajar doors and grand home producing an echoing effect that reached his study. 

Taehyung cocked an eyebrow as he grew slightly worried, discerning it didn’t sound like a friendly conversation. He abandoned his work and made towards the doors of his study, peaking towards the direction of his stair railings that overlooked the first floor of his home. 

More of the conversation became apparent, and Taehyung instantly identified it sounded more like a negatively charged argument than a conversation. His eyebrows furrowed the more he listened, knowing it was bad manners to eavesdrop though finding himself doing so anyways. 

“You heard me, Mother, all you do is use Dad’s money. You know next to nothing about business or the company...” Taehyung’s eyebrows shot to the sky, realizing you were speaking to your mother; the same woman you explicitly expressed was to be avoided at all costs and even winced at the mention of. 

He couldn’t forget that from the first time he met you. 

“...Speak with respect, Y/N, I am your mother. ” The crudeness in your mother’s voice was already indicative of your ill relationship, the harshness sounding like second nature. 

Taehyung grimaced. 

“...All you’ve ever done is travel the world and bathe in the luxuries your husband affords you without ever being there for me or Yoongi...” Yoongi? As in your brother, Min Yoongi? Taehyung only loosely recalled Min Yoongi lived and worked in the States, where he headed your father’s lucrative faction there.

He’d only met the mellow, though diligent man a couple times before.

“...I would never do that to my husband.” Despite the intense situation, Taehyung felt the slightest tinge of pride hearing you refer to him as your husband.  

“You wouldn’t do that to your husband? Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing right now?” 

Oh fuck, Taehyung thought. This isn’t going anywhere good. 

“You’re married to one of the richest men in Seoul, and you think you’re not doing the same thing? Whose house do you live in? Whose food do you eat?...”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Taehyung became alarmed, silently drawing his index finger and thumb over his lips in frustration. You didn’t need to hear this, it was complete bullshit. Your situation with him was different, it was forced and coerced. Taehyung could tell you were someone who truly didn't favour using someone else’s money, and knew you were trying your damn hardest to adjust to the idea itself having to spend your life with him. 

He rushed out into the hallway where he began pacing, trying his hardest to contain himself and hope that you wouldn’t take your mother’s words to heart. Was this why you were so adamant about the fucking card? Because you had to hear shit like this from your mother? 

This was only going to undo the work he’d successfully laid out, thinking it would erase any convincing he had done about his money and what’s his is yours. This was bad news, he didn’t want you thinking any of your mother’s words were true. 

They simply weren’t. 

“Leave my house, this instance.”

“What did you say to me?”

“I said get out! I don’t ever want to see you again!”

Taehyung was becoming anxious, the argument was clearly escalating and he felt uneasy, an incessant feeling bothering his chest. 

There it was again, that same sense of protection he felt when he saw you practically shaking talking to that Kisoo guy. He didn't understand why it manifested, or why he felt it so emphatically. All he knew was after hearing the way your voice nearly cracked, unstable and troubled as you grew more emotional, he felt the strong feeling to oddly.. rescue you? 

It’s like he wanted to bolt down the stairs, physically stand in between the argument and force your mother out of the house, all while trying to persuade you what she said wasn't true. 

Why did he feel this way? This was none of his damn business, had absolutely nothing to do with him yet if it weren't for half the mind he had, he could’ve found himself racing down the stairs to defend you.

Taehyung shivered at the thought, shaking it off.

“... you will end up living the same life as me, using your husband for his money!”

“I’ll never be like you, I’ll never be a cheap woman who only stays with a man for his money. A woman who probably cheats...”

And not long after he heard the slap, evidently hard and painful in just it’s sound. Taehyung immediately froze in his tracks, halting his pacing as worry blossomed in his chest. He prodded over to hide against the edge of the wall that connected to his staircase, able to peak at the sight of both you and your mother stood before the front foyer. 

Taehyung felt pissed within seconds, again unable to decipher why he felt the need to protect you. Though what he did know was that he felt bothered, never wanted anyone to hurt you and he hated the very thought of it. 

Maybe it was because of his considerate personality again, or maybe it really was because of you. 

What made Taehyung grow even angrier, though, was the way you reacted, listening to you dub this as something that happened often, and he was uber pissed now. 

You didn’t fucking deserve that at all. 

It took him no time to understand your apprehension and natural disliking for your mother, wanting himself to never have to converse with her. He would most likely be rude and curt, replaying the same vile words she really had the nerve to say to her own daughter. Scratch that, his wife. 

Yeah, Taehyung thought. My wife shouldn’t be treated like this. 

He knew it was wrong, impolite of him to assume and judge a person so openly based on their cover, though Taehyung could tell these were your mother’s true colours, and any other persona she assumed would only be a farce. 

Taehyung watched as you simply shoved your mother out of the house, shutting the door only to lean against it and allow the tears you’d hidden to fall down your cheeks. Taehyung turned his back and leaned against the wall, concealing himself to give you privacy. 

He knew it was already rude to have eavesdropped, even ruder to look on at such a vulnerable moment. It was rude because he wouldn’t even be able to comfort you, only watch as a dumb-founded bystander; rendered useless because it wasn’t his place to console you.

He knew nothing about you.

He really didn’t know your situation, the relationship you had with your mother. He couldn’t step on your toes and give you advice as if he knew you, nor supply you with words that would make you feel better; contemplating he’d possibly never be able to. 

He wasn’t your remedy, he wasn’t your muse, just a man you were forced to marry and now have to live with. A man who stripped you of your independence, ruined your life all just by his mere existence.

 And so Taehyung found even more reasons to not rush to you, simply leave you on your own knowing he was partly the reason for your pain, your suffering. That your mother only said such things because of him, that she only insulted you because of him. 

So he found himself retreating, walking carefully back to his study to mind his own business and continue his work, complete it as though nothing happened. 

But as each step seemed to grow longer, heavier, he found himself unable to retreat. Unable to function knowing you were probably hurting, unable to ignore you and so blatantly turn his back on you. 

So in a hasty, irrational decision, Taehyung found himself turning on his heel and rushing towards the staircase. 

You continued to sob quietly, thinking if you just let it all out now, cried just about hard enough all the sorrow would leave your body. So that’s what you did, bit your lips to contain the aching feeling in your chest as your throat seemed to constrict, swallowing all your feelings down in an attempt to poorly control them. 

You were in your own world, the sink’s water masking any noise behind you, and so when somebody’s hand reached out to rest against your shoulder, you were completely startled. You jumped, quickly shutting the water in a flash and refusing to look back at the culprit to save your pride. 

Whoever it was, they couldn’t see you like this. 

Though when you heard his dulcet, deep voice calling your name, you knew exactly who it was.

“Y/N?”

You straightened yourself up, breathing out the emotions ravaging your chest and stabilizing your voice to address him. “Hey, Taehyung. What um.. what are you doing here?” 

Taehyung could hear your solemn attempt to cover everything up, feeling your sense of embarrassment practically fill the air. 

“Nothing, just.. wanted to see you.” Taehyung said, unsure of how to approach this.

“You’re probably busy. You should go back to work.” You tried hard to sound okay while you practically swallowed back tears, clutching the counter of the sink.

“It’s alright, not important.” Taehyung waved it off, letting his hard remain on your shoulder seeing you didn’t reject him. A beat of silence lingered until he spoke again.

“Can you look at me, Y/N?” There was no pressure in his voice, just the same soft consideration you’d heard at the hotel suite a couple nights ago.

And you hated it, hated that it made you want to give in, want to so easily follow his request and bare to him whatever he wanted.

Until your last braincell kicked in. 

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry if I interrupted your work. Please go back to your study.” You voiced just barely above a shaky tone, trying your absolute hardest to sound just fine, seem okay. But the more Taehyung spoke, the more you felt your defense mechanisms slowly coming undone.

And you knew he knew.

“I wasn't interrupted.” He stated normally, his voice natural and yet he sounded so.. comforting? He was simply responding to you and yet his voice and presence seemed to soothe the sharp ache in your chest. 

It was fucking poetic. 

“I’m sure I did, Taehyung. Just please, return to your work.” 

“I don’t need to, Y/N, I can stay here.” He was firm as he stood behind you, measly hand against your shoulder and his usually intimidating, towering figure reassuring.

It was odd.

“You shouldn’t. Just go back, Taehyung.” You attempted to voice with more strength, trying to blink tears away and it didn’t convince Taehyung in the slightest.

“I don’t want to. Look at me first.” His voice sounded calm, and it was really like honey. Thick yet sweet, so deep and yet it’s cadence harboured the ability to put anyone at ease.

You shut your eyes tightly, wiping at them hastily to rid any tears as you sniffled and turned around. You were met by his face that slightly softened at the sight of you, eyes seeming to melt as they swirled with consideration, different from his usually unreadable expression. 

“See, I’m fine. You can go back to work.” You plastered a smile on, trying to stand a little more confidently, though Taehyung didn’t budge. 

He only remained, gazing at the features of your face as he seemed to drape his own with a small sense of sadness, like he was upset, maybe even hurt? It was slight, though identifiable. It left you quite speechless, thinking it was all just part of your imagination.

It couldn’t be real.  

But it exactly was as Taehyung’s large hand came up to gently touch the cheek your mother slapped. You didn’t realize it hurt more than it should’ve when you felt a sharp sting at his touch, wincing.

You registered there was probably a visible mark and grew too vulnerable, downright embarrassed for your liking and so you deflected him, smacking his hand away from your face as you looked off to the side. 

“I’m fine, Taehyung.” You declared, and Taehyung didn’t know how to react as his hand came off you, feeling a bit disheartened. He simply wanted to help, and he didn’t want to leave without doing so.

So he still looked at you, eyes possibly growing sympathetic though it could’ve been a figment of your imagination again.

“You didn’t deserve that.” He voiced soft in sound, though resolute in nature.

Taehyung was having trouble choosing what he could say without overstepping, invading a part of you he probably shouldn’t. 

“I didn’t ask for a pity party, Taehyung. Go back to work.” You said with a more snippy tone than you planned, though found it befitting of your current emotions nonetheless. 

“I’m not pitying. I’m..” Taehyung struggled for a word until you answered. 

“What, caring?” You scoffed, “Please, Taehyung, you don’t have to care like my real husband, it’s only on paper-”

“But I am your real husband.” Taehyung emphasized, his serious eyes meeting yours. “It’s on paper and in real life, so I think I’m allowed to care.” Taehyung retorted with narrowed eyes finding he liked that sentence, liked what it had to convey because it was damn true. 

Taehyung decided on reaching for your arms to drive his point home, though watched as you again, naturally retracted from him. You still seemed to refuse him, didn’t see him in a good enough light to not cower away. 

And he still fucking hated it. 

Taehyung went for it anyway and gripped your arms when you began to draw away, catching you. The action nearly demanded you look into his eyes, and found yourself doing exactly so. 

“Y/N, first, don’t be scared of me, please?” His eyes grew soft. “I seriously-I really hate it. I would never..” Taehyung trailed as his vision fell to the side of your face, eyes seeming to reflect concern.

You were completely surprised, watching him unmask a plethora of emotion you didn't think he’d so candidly reveal.

Taehyung brought his hand to brush your slightly swollen cheek, continuing. “I would never do this, do anything to scare you. I just wouldn’t.” Taehyung was emphatic and genuine, gently touching the fresh wound on the apple of your cheek.

“I.. know that, Taehyung.” You again felt that same urge to touch his hand that touched you, but you decided against it. “Though I don’t need your pity. This doesn’t hurt, don’t break a sweat about it, please.” You were trying to turn away from his hold but Taehyung didn’t let go, maintaining you in his hands.

“It’s not pity, Y/N. It’s sympathy. This bothers me, okay?”

“I don’t need it. I’ve got myself-” 

“But you’re not alone.” Taehyung suddenly stated seriously, tone permeating the air and you just about froze. You only looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to decipher what he was trying to say.

“You’re not.. alone, okay? You have me.” He spoke as though he was trying to convey a meaningful message, trying to mark his own words. “In whatever way... you have me.” It was a hesitant claim, but it felt just like when he’d made his promise to you at the altar. 

And suddenly you found yourself giving in, sighing as you registered this was all pretty much an elaborate reflection of the lesson you learned not so long ago.  You and Taehyung are married now, and no matter how that status manifested itself, you had to accept what came with it.

Especially if it meant him.

“Okay.” You replied simply, multiple emotions masked by the plain word. 

Taehyung looked at you a little surprised you’d actually accepted that, but broke into a genuine grin you hadn’t really seen before. 

And you really did like the way he smiled.

He made you want to smile too, though as your facial muscles worked for the grin your cheek stung, wincing as a result. Taehyung exclaimed within a matter of seconds. “Ah, don’t move.” He cautioned, smiling a little when you chuckled at his overreaction. “Don’t worry, Taehyung. It’s alright.” 

“Alright, my foot.” Taehyung joked, bending down to inspect your wound closer than you expected, and you hid the feeling that shot through you because of his proximity with a nervous laugh, causing you to wince again. 

“Hey, what did I say?” Taehyung chastised you lightly, lips in a straight line as he shook his head disapprovingly. “C’mon, let’s treat this.” 

You immediately whined, feeling too lazy to get something so small and insignificant treated. “Taehyung, it’s not even that bad, why?” You pouted. 

“Cause it’ll leave a mark on your pretty face.” Taehyung smiled innocently, not even caring about the effect it left on you as he found your hand and tugged you along to the second floor. Your eyes only remained widened, never letting up the surprise that took you. 

Did he just call you pretty? 

You let Taehyung lead you to your master bathroom, where he situated you by the counter and shuffled around for his first-aid kit. He finally retrieved the box, dabbing some alcohol onto a cotton swab and bringing it to your face. 

Taehyung just about performed the action until he began struggling bending to your height, wanting to carefully apply the alcohol. So he tried different angles and maneuvered himself around, all coming up useless. “God, why do you have to be so small?” Taehyung huffed under his breath as he stood to his full height, contemplating how he’d accomplish this. 

“I’m not small, you’re just really-” You were about to complete your sentence until Taehyung’s hands suddenly grabbed your waist, lifting you in a single breath and propping you up onto the bathroom counter. You would’ve exclaimed, maybe protest though believed it would’ve made the heat in your face so much more apparent.

“That’s better.” He grinned, biting back a chuckle at your flushed face and widened eyes.  

Those fucking eyes. 

Taehyung then found it easier to apply what he needed, cleaning up the wound precariously before dabbing on some ointment to avoid any scarring, only missing a bandage to place on your cheek. Taehyung searched for one in his kit and drawers, though came up empty-handed. He became puzzled as to where he put his bandages, placing his hands in his pockets to think until he felt the familiar scratch of a wrapper.

He furrowed his eyebrows at first until he figured exactly what it was. 

And he suppressed a stupid grin. 

Taehyung pulled out the wrapper and watched as you avoided eye contact with him, cheeks still clearly warm as you swung your legs on the counter in anticipation of him.

Cute, he thought.

He ripped the wrapper, chucking the garbage aside as he drew close to your face. His breath suddenly fanned you, mere inches from your face with his lips so proximal you were stupidly remembering your kiss from a couple days ago.

He was just so close. So close that you could actually discern he had this pretty little mole on his cheek, even one just underneath his eye, lining his lash line. You smiled realizing he had such unique details, even seeing he had a mono-lid and a double eyelid. Then came his obvious features, his plushy, pink lips, his chocolate eyes, his soft hair and sculpted face structure. It made you want to hide your own face out of near insecurity.

He was just so beautiful.

You watched him as he focused on you, trying to calm down your oddly racing heart, feeling the sensation of his closeness shoot through your body. He smoothed the bandage over your cheek and drew away far too earlier than you wanted.

“There. Apply something before putting a bandage on, right?” He cocked an eyebrow and looked at you knowingly, crossing his arms. 

You immediately smiled at the sentiment, realizing it’s the same line you said to him during your first exchange, and you felt your heart just slightly, slightly flutter at the thought he remembered.

“Right.”

It had been a week since that incident.

Taehyung and yourself had assumed your regular lives, having to drudge back to work after a few days off.

Your mother’s words still lingered around in your head, spoiling your mood here and there though assuming the ever-so healthy manner of simply pushing the mentally detrimental thoughts away, distracting yourself with work. 

You wish you could detail anymore interactions with Taehyung, though they were scarce with how rarely you saw each other. You both either just missed each other, were too busy to pay attention or simply came home too late. Even sleeping together was hit or miss, usually either of you crawling into bed earlier than the other with no real exchanges.

You could say it made you feel just a little sad, though not entirely considering you two were genuinely busy people, Taehyung an even busier person.

That all came to a full stop though one Friday morning, you were seated by the island and staring at your most recent design for a building, iPad pen twirling in hand. You were sipping on coffee when Taehyung pulled out a chair and suddenly startled you, coffee almost spilling.

“Jheez,” you huffed, “you scared me.” 

“Sorry, you were just really focused.” Taehyung apologized as he placed his own iPad down, reading away.

It’d been like this the whole week, you either designing and leading projects at your own job with Taehyung the ever-busy CEO at his own company, causing you both to often sit in each other’s presence though never take your eyes off your screens.

“Hey, I wanted to tell you something.” Taehyung suddenly perked up, stopping his scrolling. 

“Hm?” You looked up. 

“I should’ve told you this sooner, but we have to attend a gala tonight.” Taehyung grimaced at how sudden this seemed, arms crossed as he leaned on the counter.

Did the action really have to make his biceps pop?

Anyway, you were nearly spitting out your drink for the umpteenth time because of Taehyung, eyes blown out at his abrupt news. 

“Wh-what did you just say? Tonight?”

“Yeah, one of friends’ companies. 25th anniversary since establishment.” Taehyung went to bite a piece of his toast with strawberry jam.

You noticed he liked strawberries and didn’t like bread crust, making you want to smile sometimes at the child-like charm he hid underneath his intimidating persona. “They’re holding a huge gala and he’s one of my best friends, we’ll have to attend.”

You eventually came to understanding him, trying to wrap your head around having to suddenly attend such a high-end event. 

“This event is also going to be our first public appearance together. It’s important.” Taehyung stressed, back to scrolling through his iPad. 

“That’s alright. I don’t mind going, it’s just...I don’t think I even have a dress for a gala.” You mentally sifted through your own wardrobe, coming up short once you realized you haven’t been to an extravagant event like that since you were a teenager.

“I know, I bought one for you.”

You should really stop drinking beverages around Taehyung because you can never seem to keep them in your damn mouth. “You bought one? Taehyung..” You whined. “What did I say about giving me things?” 

“Hey, what did I say about giving you things?” He scolded you lightly. “I give you things simply because I want to.”  

You pouted. “Still, you don’t even know my size, when did you even have time?”

“That doesn’t matter. It’ll fit you, don’t worry.” Taehyung sent a smile as he deflected your question and returned to his iPad, not wanting to reveal that he’d secretly referred to your other dresses in your shared closet for your correct measurements.

“But it probably wasted your time. I should’ve gone out and bought it myself.” You felt guilty, realizing it probably made him compromise his work.

“It wasn’t a waste of time.” Taehyung countered, not really liking how you considered yourself not worthy of spending time on.

“I- thank you.” You blurted out before his statement could effect you. “When does the event begin?”

“7. You should try getting off work early to get ready.” Taehyung suggested, sipping his tea as he looked at you.

“Oh God, I’m gonna have to doll myself up. I haven’t done that in ages.” You held a hand to your mouth, trying to digest the fact you’d probably have to look like a trophy wife. 

“I could get you a makeup artist and hair stylist.” Taehyung offered. 

“No, it’s okay. I think I’ll be fine. I just haven’t been to a gala in a long time.” You felt surprised about the fact yourself. “I’m gonna have to meet so many people.” 

“You will, but I’ll be there.” Taehyung assured, glancing up at you.

“Of course, but you won’t be with me the entire night. I’ll have to brush up on my rich people skills.” You blew a raspberry, knowing you had great interpersonal skills but just didn’t like acting so fake all the time. 

“I won’t leave, just stick with me the whole night.” Taehyung stated as he absentmindedly held his index finger to his lips reading an email, quite goddamn illegally if you had to say so yourself. 

“I will.” You confirmed, erasing at a line on your iPad. “Will you come home early too?”

Taehyung clicked his tongue disappointingly. “I will but just barely on time. Friday’s mean meetings for me, so I can’t leave early. I’ll get ready at work, come back inside the house to get you.”

“Okay.” You’re not sure why you felt suddenly sad he wouldn’t be home earlier. Maybe it was just the usual feeling of not wanting to be alone, because God forbid you actually started getting used to Taehyung’s presence. 

Taehyung rose from his seat and cast his iPad to the side, sliding on his suit jacket as he glanced at his watch, checking the time. You noticed yourself and flashed your vision to your iPad, gawking at the time and realizing you could be late. 

“Oh shit, I have to go.” 

“Me too, I’ll see you tonight, okay?” Taehyung confirmed as he made his way to the front door, fixing his sleeve. You propped off your own seat and began walking towards the stairs, just about ascending until Taehyung suddenly called your name. 

“Y/N!” He peeked out from the front door, seconds from leaving. 

“Yes?” 

“I hope you like the colour, it’s one of my favourites.” Taehyung smiled sweetly, sending his last farewell before he dashed out of the house. 

Your eyebrows shot up and practically gawked, immediately running up the stairs thinking of where to find this dress. He had to have hidden it from you considering he’s been doing so ever since he mysteriously bought it. 

You instinctively rushed into your shared bedroom to grab a scrunchy for the day, all distracted until you caught sight of a white box adorned with a black bow sitting atop your bed. 

Your eyes went wide just reading the infamous label. 

Chanel. 

You had to physically keep from flooring yourself, in disbelief he’d purchased you a Chanel dress. You were even more fearful to uncover it, the information of him buying it himself raking your brain. 

It was even his favourite colour, nearly swooning at the fact he chose for you to wear his favourite colour. So you made your way over to the box hesitantly, untying the ribbon and casting the lid aside cautiously, only to audibly gasp. 

Your eyes fell to a ruby red dress with a delicate V neckline, completely blown away he chose such a bold colour for you to wear. 

You carefully grabbed the dress to take it out of its box, revealing more to discover it was a floor-length gown. It produced a small train though lifted in the front to reveal the shoes you’d wear, the skirt of plain, thick fabric until you saw the torso area; light beading expanding from the stomach area eventually leading into the skirt. 

Shock wasn’t even the correct word to use, you were stunned, completely taken by his choice. The dress was simply gorgeous, beautiful in its own right and you were almost too afraid to wear it. 

Nonetheless, this event was important to Taehyung, so you took a deep breath, tucked the dress back into its box and mentally prepared yourself for the day ahead. 

It was bordering 6:30 now. 

You’d successfully left work early, around the 2 o’clock mark to come home and indulge in a 4 hour self-care routine. It’d seriously been too long since you last attended an event similar to this, grand in size and visited by at least a hundred people. 

It reminded you of your engagement party, though not entirely since there would paparazzi and would be your first real appearance with Taehyung ever since your wedding. 

And quite frankly, you really wanted look better than you did then. You labelled it pretty much a disaster since you were a catatonic mess regretting all her life choices, probably looking unappealing in all your photos. 

Along with knowing the impact Taehyung has, not only in the business world but in general also left you wanting to up your game. You were his wife now, and that came with a high amount of scrutiny and criticism having nabbed one of the most eligible bachelor’s in Korea.

You’d already given up ever checking any articles and avoided social media, knowing that there would be inevitably nasty and judgmental comments. This night was important though, where you’d flank him as the women he’s so-called ‘in love with’ or the ‘love of his life’. 

It also dawned on you Taehyung in fact had a high-valued reputation to uphold, and so did you as his wife. 

So as you stood before the mirror in the walk-in closet, inspecting your dress, you contemplated how you’d survive this night, how you would act as the perfect, most suitable wife to Taehyung. 

You really wanted to hide your face out of how dolled up you looked; your makeup was on the elegant side, not heavy but brushed up to look soft, completed with red lipstick that matched your dress and hair set around your face in loose waves. 

The dress looked almost embarrassingly good on you, Taehyung somehow having chosen the right sized dress as it hugged your every curve right, accentuating the right parts of your body and even the V neckline not dipping too low, but showing quite the generous amount of skin. 

You couldn’t stop blushing at all. 

Taehyung had finally arrived at the house, rushing inside quickly registering he was cutting the time close. “Y/N! I’m home!” he called for you, quickly checking his appearance in a mirror as he smoothed pieces of his parted hair, curling just before his eyes and revealing some forehead.

“I’m in our room!” 

He approved his own look in the mirror and jogged up the stairs, mentally preparing himself before he’d have to see you in the dress he chose, almost excited about it. 

He’d simply loved it at first sight, and couldn’t stop pondering what the striking colour would look like on you. So as Taehyung entered your bedroom, he became confused finding it empty. He then ventured further inside, catching sight of the ajar closet door and light beaming through. 

He sauntered over carefully, peeking inside and Taehyung’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor, almost stupidly. 

His eyes fell to you standing in front of the mirror, fidgeting as you looked at yourself in the dress with the back of it undone. 

And Taehyung had never seen anything more pretty in his life. 

He was speechless for the umpteenth time because of you, not even knowing how to begin a sentence because he might sound like a second grader if he did. So all Taehyung could muster up the literacy to say was “Wow.” 

You turned around instantly, eyes looking as though you were a deer caught in headlights. Taehyung’s eyes widened even more peering at the elegant front, jaw almost slack as he scanned over your body.

“T-Taehyung.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

Taehyung still seemed to be struggling a little, eyes glued to you until he cleared his throat and looked away. “Um, yeah?” 

“S-sorry, but.. could you actually..?” And you did it again, angling your back towards Taehyung to call to the zipper of your dress. You really couldn’t try zipping it yourself, which left it sitting comfortably just at your lower back, your skin exposed to Taehyung. 

You could visibly see Taehyung flash his eyes to your skin until he looked elsewhere, nodding as he licked his lips. “Sure.” 

You watched him near you, his face blank as he took a handful of your hair and softly placed in front of you. He then brought his hand against your side to hold you in place, his other working for the zipper. It was another case of his rather hot breath fanning your back, almost teasingly zipping up your dress by simple inches. 

He was close again, closer than he’s been in a week and you sincerely hated it always affected you in some way. It made your chest flutter, suck in a breath you didn’t even need to hold in. You relaxed when Taehyung finally finished, his hands gripping your arms from behind as he looked at you through the mirror.

And for some odd reason, he liked how your heights contrasted each other. 

He had the slightest hint of a smile, eyes seeming to gleam with something you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“You look pretty.” He said, gazing at you through the reflection and you had to physically stop from beaming like an idiot. Your chest fills with butterflies, face collecting with heat at his compliment. 

How could an Adonis like him call you pretty?

You bit your lip, gazing up at his taller, impeccably dressed reflection as you admired him, his every feature crafted to a degree of perfection that left you in awe. 

“You look really handsome.” You complimented, watching his lips just about curve into a smile that met his eyes, and you wish he didn’t have to look so handsome when he smiled too. 

“Thank you.” He voiced before turning you around by your arms to face him. “Make sure you wear a coat tonight, it’s cold.” He informed, you nodding until your quick eyes spotted his tie loosened by just a centimeter, throwing you off. 

“Oh, your tie.” You exclaimed quietly, reaching for it without a thought and pushing it upwards, angling it to perfection. Taehyung suddenly froze, unexpecting of you doing such a thing and so proximal his nose flooded with your perfume, liking the scent. 

Peonies. 

He tensed with an unknown feeling until your gazes locked on each other, simply looking to look while your hands remained on his tie. He realized more than a second passed and Taehyung scrambled for something to say, sputtering.

“I’ll uh.. I’ll be waiting out front.” He assured as he stepped away, exiting the room quickly and leaving you to your lonesome. 

This was gonna be one hell of a night, you thought.

“Remember, there’s going to be a lot of cameras and people here. We’ll really need to act like a couple.” Taehyung sat beside you in the back of an Escalade, manspreading in all his glory and you were sincerely glad he couldn’t read your mind.

“Got it, let’s give em’ a show.” You cheered with your little fists, determined as the car arrived at the lavish venue. 

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Taehyung mimicked your action. “Don’t worry about getting nervous, I’m there.” He assured for good measure, gauging your affirmation.  

You nodded as you took a deep breath, smoothing over your dress and fixing your hair. Taehyung unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned into you, speaking near your ear. “I’ll get out first and open the door for you, wait here.” You tensed at the action before nodding again, Taehyung making his way out the car. 

He then opened your door as promised within seconds, greeting you with a warm smile as he held out his hand for you. You grinned back at him affectionately as you took it, adjusting your dress to step onto the concrete. 

You were met by dozens of camera flashes and a yelling crowd, shouting various things you couldn’t quite make out. You were almost distracted by it and felt a small sense of anxiety creep up you, until Taehyung pulled you flush against his side, hand curving around your waist.

You smiled up at him in accordance, and he beamed back as he walked you two down the carpet leading into the venue, casually ignoring all the noise and people. 

Taehyung guided you inside safely to where you were welcomed by a beautiful looking hall, pristine and extremely elegant. It was surely fitting for a grand gala. Your eyes caught a small crowd of photographers in the foyer snapping photos at a certain wall with a backdrop, curiosity dawning on you as Taehyung led you towards the coat check. 

“What’s happening there?” You pointed towards the scene. 

“Oh, exclusive press.” He snuck a look, stripping off his coat. “They’re the ones I was talking about, they’re gonna take pictures of us.” Taehyung answered distracted as he retrieved your coat and gave both to the coat checker, smiling a thank you. 

You didn’t even have time to really respond as Taehyung dragged you to the very scene, the pair of you next to have photos taken. You tried to process the whole thing as he walked you over, mentally preparing to look your best until Taehyung suddenly whispered lowly in your ear again. 

And again, it sent shivers down your spine. 

“Just smile and hold me, okay?” Your chest fluttered for an odd reason, nodding back to him as he brought you in front of the line of photographers. 

You stayed true to your promise and tucked an arm around his torso as the other draped his chest, closest to him as you could. Taehyung almost settled next to you until he felt something at his feet, noticing he was nearly stepping on your gown. 

He broke away from you, unexpectedly bending down to catch the skirt of your dress and delicately fix it behind you. You heard the hushed exclamations of the photographers, most of them doting on his considerate act as you just about protested, though suddenly remembered Taehyung’s words from today. 

It was probably better to stay silent. 

So you simply smiled as you watched Taehyung adjust your dress, feeling a warm sensation spread across your chest when he returned even though it most likely was for show, his hands coming back on you. 

This time you didn’t try to suppress anything, allowing some of your feelings to manifest into a real smile, remembering you were to appear as a couple anyway. 

And whether or not there was some truth to your expressions, was anyone really keeping track?

You two began posing for the photographers, smiling in all directions and clutching onto each other closely. You occasionally tried different angles to look better, everything going smoothly until you heard someone shout out, eyes widening as a result.

“Kiss her!” 

It wasn’t long before the other photographers began agreeing, encouraging Taehyung to kiss you and you had no clue how he would react. You were slightly biting your lip as you were occupied avoiding eye contact, that was until Taehyung quietly called you.

“Y/N, look at me.” 

“Hm?” You instinctively responded and looked up at him, completely taken by surprise when Taehyung suddenly planted a soft kiss to your forehead. Your eyes visibly went wider, only his chest to stare at until he eventually disconnected.

He returned his eyes to you and grinned at your wide-eyed reaction, suddenly reminding you. “Smile,” he encouraged with the flash of his own boxy grin, wanting to see you smile. 

And it damn well worked. 

Taehyung was right about the size of this gala. 

Huge. 

It was grand, the entire hall seeming to be spat right out of a castle with about a hundred fancy-looking people inside. You thought it would’ve been uninteresting and difficult to communicate with others tonight and put on your best fake smile, though the night’s atmosphere amassed with champagne, good food and great conversationalists left you in a better mood than you expected. 

It was actually quite fun, finding yourself genuinely conversing with the people Taehyung dragged you to meet, keeping to your promise of staying right by his side the whole night, and he kept his, never having left you. 

You’d met various people, having gotten familiar to Taehyung’s high-status world of business and relations. Long story short, Taehyung knew a lot of people, and you were surprised at how extroverted he suddenly seemed.  

He was practically a social butterfly, not having forgotten a single name of who he spoke to along with somehow remembering personal details about their lives. It left you impressed, joining along with his light-hearted conversation with your own extrovert tendencies. 

Everyone you’d met had been nice so far, but by far the most amusing people you’d met had to have been Taehyung’s 5 best friends, the same ones you’d seen in his photographs. 

“Y/N, this is Kim Namjoon and Seokjin, they’re brothers.” 

Both tall and quite frankly broad men greeted you warmly, one of them having a nice dimply smile while the other was far too handsome to be looked at for free. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” They said after another, reaching out to shake your hand. “We’re co-CEOs of one of Korea’s largest private airline.” Namjoon of the two informed.   

“Likewise. And wow, that’s impressive.” You complimented. “Might I also say, you’re both.. tall.” You had to almost crane your neck to meet their eyes, thankful for the heels you were wearing as the group laughed at your remark. 

“Perhaps, though you’re quite short yourself, Y/N.” Seokijn commented light-heartedly, causing you to playfully pout and retort him. “Oh c’mon, I hear that from Taehyung already, not you too.” You giggled, absentmindedly leaning into Taehyung as he tensed, your body pressing into his. 

“It’s cause Taehyung likes short girls, teasing means he likes you.”  A built looking man with longer hair suddenly joked, nudging Taehyung with his elbow.

“Shut up, Jungkook. I was gonna give you a proper introduction, not anymore.” Taehyung scolded, though Jungkook persisted. 

“Well, you just said my name, that’s already half the intro.” Jungkook then gently took your hand, placing a chaste kiss against the back of it you didn’t expect at all. 

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Korea’s largest game development company.” Jungkook sent you a kind smile and it was hard to not compare him to a bunny, his teeth reminding you of one. 

“Yah, don’t do that” Taehyung swatted Jungkook’s hand away, protesting disapprovingly. 

“Woah, did Taehyung just get jealous?” Namjoon inquired shocked.

“Somebody get their phone out, we’ll need evidence I didn’t hit him first.” Jungkook held up his hands in mock surrender. 

“Jungkook, the only thing we’re finding in our phones is videos of you nibbling on carrots.” Taehyung quipped and it made the group chortle, yourself speaking up at the mention of a rabbit. 

“Actually, I was thinking you resemble a bunny.” You simply wanted to voice an observation, though it sent the whole group into a frenzy. 

“See Jungkook! Other people notice it too!” A man you hadn’t been introduced to yet suddenly burst out, though you could automatically tell he gave off this radiant energy that was infectious. 

He almost felt like the sun. 

“Whatever, Hoseok, you’re like a squirrel.” Jungkook countered and you digested the man’s name for information. 

“And you’re a rabbit, you better buy me what we wagered.” Hoseok scolded from what you could assume, was the younger of the two. 

“Wagered? I don’t remember anything about that.” Jungkook feigned innocence as he looked off to the side.

“Jungkook, we were all there that day, you owe Hoseok a vending machine.” Namjoon spoke up, laughing through the remark. 

“Guys. Y/N is literally right here, we didn’t even introduce ourselves properly.” A man with a fairly sweet voice interjected. He had such soft visuals, almost similar to an angel if you wanted to be honest. 

He then looked to you with a sweet smile, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Park Jimin, CEO of Park Hotels & Resorts”

“This is his event.” Taehyung informed.

“Ohh, nice to meet you!” You perked up, his aura making you feel all comfortable and giggly, there was just something about his bubbly energy. 

The man named Hoseok then extended his hand, “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jung Hoseok. Sorry for the late introduction, but I basically own a bunch of famous clubs across Korea.” He laughed all dimply and warm, and he really did remind you of the sun. 

“Oh wow, hopefully we’ll get to visit sometime! Clubs are so fun.” You lit up, all excited about a good club scene until Taehyung ruined your fun. 

“Nuh uh, not after your little drunk scene at our engagement party.” Taehyung looked down at you and chastised. 

“Taehyung, it wasn’t even that much. Don’t be dramatic.” You scolded him back. 

“Alright Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, I almost had to carry you.” 

“I was walking just fine last time I remembered.” You crossed your arms and feigned innocence, Taehyung growing scandalized. 

“Oh really, now?” He cocked an eyebrow, just about to continue until Namjoon interjected. “Looks like married life’s been treating you guys well.” 

“Of course, they look practically in love.” Hoseok beamed sarcastically, gesturing towards you both.

“C’mon, Taehyung, tell us what you love about her. Let’s see the simping.” Jungkook playfully taunted Taehyung, egging him on.  

“Shut up. You all already know our marriage isn’t real.” Taehyung rebutted the younger man, eyes narrowed. 

You were taken aback, eyes flashing to Taehyung. “They know?” 

“Of course they do, your best friend knows too, doesn’t she?” Taehyung was referring to Hana, and you acquiesced realizing he had a point. 

“You know, you guys say it’s a fake marriage but you look pretty close to me.” Jimin pointed towards Taehyung’s arm still hugging around your waist, causing you both to realize and promptly disconnect. 

“No, we aren’t.” You and Taehyung retorted at the same time, vision snapping to each other with shocked eyes. 

“Oh c’mon, Tae, you’re really gonna say about your wife?” Seokjin teased him, playful lilt to his tone. 

“Yeah, Taehyung, just look at her, how aren’t you whipped already?” Jungkook remarked as he gestured towards you, feeling shy as your feet shuffled. 

“I’m not answering that.” Taehyung bit back with an irritated tone, folding his arms as he broke eye contact with the group. 

You decided to lighten the mood. “Guys, please, the only thing Taehyung’s whipped for is his company.” You joked, and despite the small sense of hurt saying that sentence, you felt joy making the men suddenly laugh so loudly. 

Taehyung’s shy and embarrassed expression was even more priceless. 

“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re seriously the perfect match for him.” Hoseok added on as he laughed and you couldn’t help but bite back a smile, not knowing what he meant by that though taking it as a compliment.

“Alright guys, remember we had a mission: operation make-Taehyung-and-Y/N’s-marriage-seem-real-as-fuck.” Jungkook suddenly put on the theatrics and halted the group, changing the conversation. 

“Oh yeah, we had a whole plan, didn’t we?” Jimin remembered. 

“Yup. Gotta prepare them for nosey press and annoying relatives. We should start with questions they’d get asked. Make it like a fake interview or something.” Namjoon suggested, leading along the others as he pretended to hold a microphone. 

“You’re all some of the richest men in Seoul yet you’re acting like children. I don’t know you people.” Taehyung tried waving the men off while you couldn’t help but laugh, finding them the most fun people you’ve encountered. 

Childish or not, they were completely unexpected of what you thought a group of CEOs. They didn’t live up to the cliché uptight and uber sophisticated stereotype, rather open and acted however they chose. 

It was refreshing. 

“It’s cause we’re friends with you, Taehyung.” Hoseok shot back and it made everyone snicker. 

“I got it. Let’s ask them to spill some details about each other only they’d know. Someone’s bound to ask that.” Seokjin reasoned, gauging agreeance from the others. 

“Oh my God, you guys already know our marriage is fake. Why would you make this up?” You asked through a giggle, still finding the situation comical. 

“Sorry Mrs. Kim, but that’s precisely why, and I’m afraid we don’t know what you mean by ‘fake’. Now tell the good press something about Mr. Kim we don’t know.” Jungkook began the skit as he held his fake microphone towards you, the others joining in as though imitating paparazzi. 

“Alright, this is gonna be exclusive, pens ready?” You decided to join them, and they all nodded in confirmation as Taehyung flashed his eyes to you, unprepared for you to play along. 

“Mr. Kim is quite something.” You addressed him formally for effect. “He acts all mysterious and cool, but he’s actually just a cuddler who likes tea and cuts the crusts off his bread.” You relayed with a wide grin, all of them suddenly exclaiming and reacting like a high schooler has just confessed the name of their crush. 

“Oh my God, Tae, seriously? Bread crusts? What are you, like, 3?” Seokjin teased. 

“Hyung, your ears literally turn red when people give you attention. Are you 3?” Taehyung retorted and it only elicited more noise from the group, Seokjin exclaiming defensively and Taehyung bringing a hand up to his forehead, sighing. 

“Guys! Okay, let’s get some real answers here. We gotta know what Y/N would say if someone asked her.. maybe some things she likes about Taehyung. Let’s hear it.” Jimin got everyone back on track, attention on you. 

You smiled nervously and flashed a look towards Taehyung, who still had this arms folded and vision looking off to the side, ignoring the entire situation before him. 

You could tell he was pissed with the way his jaw locked, though the fact that he wasn’t paying attention made you a little more confident. 

Taehyung wasn’t exactly pissed, though if he could bonk all his friends on the head a few times he would. He knew teasing and jokes were all common within the group, he just didn’t expect to be the sole target tonight, and so he decided to smoothly neglect the conversation altogether. 

He was succeeding, not expecting you to answer their question seriously until Taehyung suddenly heard you speak up, surprised eyes flickering to you. 

“Hmm, if I had to say..” You were hesitant, Taehyung shocked you were even answering. 

What would you say? 

“He has nice, big hands.” You admitted softly, Taehyung’s brows raising with surprise. “He has a nice voice, too, and... his smile.” You added as you nodded to yourself, confirming your own list and Taehyung was left damn near speechless once again. 

He didn’t really know how to act, acknowledging his face as the most common thing people liked about him, rarely ever hearing those aspects of himself mentioned. 

And he oddly felt.. nice.

“Awh, now that’s cute, good job, Y/N.” Jungkook praised you, Hoseok then pointing his make-believe mic in Taehyung’s direction. 

“Your turn, Chairman Kim, what do you like most about your wife?” He mimicked an interviewer and everyone followed in accordance, mics shifting towards him. 

“Uhh..” Taehyung became slightly nervous under everyone’s scrutiny, not knowing if he should assume his usual unreadable nature or answer their request truthfully. 

“Tae, dude, if you don’t say anything then I will.” Jungkook declared, just about ready to speak again until you cut him off, snorting. 

“Don’t sweat it, guys. He won’t say anything.” You really knew Taehyung would have nothing to say, so you crossed your arms and became uninterested in the conversation.

Until Taehyung spoke. 

“She does this pouting thing.. with her lips. It’s cute.” Taehyung started, coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly and peer at anything but a pair of eyes. “Her height.. and her eyes. She has nice eyes.” 

The floor had to be tired of you by now, because Taehyung seemed to make you want to fall hard pretty often. You didn’t know what to do, eyes blown and nearly on the verge of choking, unable to believe a Godly being like Taehyung just admitted to liking something about you. 

Is this what it feels like to win at life?

His words kept ringing in your head, melting into a shy mess with your cheeks beyond hot, avoiding eye contact with everyone while Taehyung grew slightly embarrassed, similarly looking off to the side. 

“Holy shit, you guys are actually cute.” Jimin remarked through a chuckle as he  pointed at you both, you and Taehyung mirroring the same look of horror while protesting at the same time. “No we aren’t!” 

And it only made the men crack up even harder. 

It was laugh after laugh as that conversation went on, finding a quick and pleasant liking to Taehyung’s friends. They’d made it clear as day they liked you as well, to be precise they seemed to love you, making playful nudges at Taehyung for saying yes to someone just right for him; and you seriously pondered what that exactly meant. 

It was further into the night now, the gala having picked up in activity and passed the long social hour, now leading into more of a party scene as upbeat music filled the hall. 

You’d stuck with Taehyung the whole night as promised, having met more of the people he knew. The evening had been quite calm, both you and Taehyung having silently, though mutually ignored the conversation from before for sanity purposes, only focusing on the additional people you met. 

Taehyung and yourself had been talking up a storm with Jimin for the past half an hour, Taehyung introducing him as his best friend and getting the full run down of how that came about. It was highly entertaining, listening to mentions of alcohol, 4AM fighting and even an incident with dumplings. 

It had you three laughing merrily while music played, Taehyung’s arm draped around you like it had been for majority of the night, practically hugging you to him. He was elaborating on a story that had something to do with a dream-catcher, all smiles and giggles. 

That was until Taehyung suddenly froze next to you, sight seeming to set on a person behind Jimin and he immediately changed his aura. 

“Jimin, what the fuck? Did you invite him?” Taehyung cocked his head in the general direction, eyes set hard. 

Jimin’s eyebrows shot up and and casually looked behind him, registering the culprit himself and turning back to Taehyung. “Holy shit, no, I didn’t.” 

“Then why is he here?” 

“Fuck, I don’t know, Tae. My parents probably invited him, I’m sorry.” Jimin apologized as he rubbed the back of his neck, growing apprehensive.

“Don’t worry, Jimin. It’s just.. not him, not fucking him.” Taehyung’s voice grew a little darker, almost hateful as his hand gripped around you tighter.  

“Taehyung, what’s wrong?” You asked tentatively, though didn’t exactly get a response since Taehyung became distracted, talking more so to himself. 

“Why the fuck is he here of all people? Of all damn people..” Taehyung scoffed to himself humorlessly, clearly annoyed. 

“Taehyung, who?” 

“Nobody, we’re getting a drink. Jimin, please?” Taehyung and Jimin had a conversation with their eyes, Jimin immediately nodding and moving towards a certain man you barely caught sight off before Taehyung was pulling you away. You tried protesting, but the tightened grip around you and Taehyung’s frustrated expression was enough to shut you up. 

Something was seriously wrong. 

You followed him along quietly until you heard a bit of a commotion behind you, able to distinguish Jimin’s voice protesting. You almost looked back until a stranger suddenly snuck up on Taehyung, draping an arm over him. 

“Kim Taehyung! Where you going? Damn, it’s been long.” The man spoke as he lowered his hand to Taehyung’s back, nearly smacking it as though they were old time buddies. 

Though the expression that painted Taehyung’s face said completely otherwise; he looked extremely irritated, and not the playful type. 

“Hisung, yeah, it has.” Taehyung bleakly acknowledged him, said man with an arm still draped over Taehyung’s shoulders until he shrugged him off harshly, pulling you closer to him protectively.

It made the man direct his attention to you. “Oh, this is your wife, right? Nice to meet you, Han Hisung.” The man smiled and extended his hand, not knowing if you should extend yours until Taehyung blatantly cut the man off, physically blocking his hand. 

“Skip the pleasantries, Hisung, what do you want?” You were shocked to see this emotion on Taehyung; rarely having seen him frustrated, trying to manage his annoyance as he gave Hisung a dead stare, intimidating as ever. 

Though Hisung didn’t cower like everyone else did, seeming to rather thrive.

“I don’t want anything. I can’t just meet your wife?” He coated his tone condescendingly, gesturing towards you. 

“No, you can’t. We’re getting a drink.” Taehyung seriously seemed bothered as he began walking you away with him, the harder squeeze of his hand around you indicating he was either growing more irritated, didn’t want to let you go, or a mix of both. 

“Oh, c’mon.” Hisung pulled Taehyung back by the shoulder but Taehyung becomes irritated, shoving his arm away harshly. 

“Not now, Hisung. Not at Jimin’s event.” Taehyung warned him as though he was crossing a fine line, and you grew afraid of what would occur if that were compromised.  

“What, I’m not doing anything.” Hisung held out his arms, feigning innocence. “I gotta say though, if I wanted one thing it’d be to say your wife’s hot as fuck.” He cocked an eyebrow and began eyeing you in your dress, growing uncomfortable and sending him a dirty look, though you naturally leaned closer towards Taehyung and he took notice. 

“Say that again I’ll make you regret it, Hisung.” Taehyung’s jaw was locked, a protective feeling overwhelming him. 

“You’re seriously gonna introduce her to everyone but me?” Hisung looked offended. “She should know who I am, especially to you.” He tried making a point, eluding to something between them. 

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung flat out rejected him, his expression blunt as he seemed to radiate unbothered energy. 

“I think you should. She should know the kind of man her husband is, and what he’s done.” He said knowingly, in a daunting way that accused Taehyung of something that seemed deeper than it looked.  

“There’s nothing to know, and I never did anything.” Taehyung simply denied, as though he’s said this multiple times.

“Really? You don’t wanna tell her about how you sabotage people? Use your money to buy success?” 

Taehyung had to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing out frustrated. “For fuck’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you? I’ve never done shit like that. Leave.” Taehyung finalized, attempting to control his anger.

You were trying to remain calm and look on objectively, though felt a sense of worry for where this was going, only Taehyung’s seemingly instinctive guard on you keeping you from anxiety. 

Hisung scoffed, “You know, your wife should know how much of a fucking liar you are.” He spat, his vision suddenly growing narrowed as he eyed you both suspiciously. “Come to think of it, wife kinda sounds like a stretch.” 

This time it wasn’t even Taehyung responding, you beating him to the punch. “Excuse me? The fuck does that mean?” 

“Oh, so she talks.” 

You were just about stepping forward to give this asshole a piece of your mind until Taehyung suddenly gripped onto your arms from behind, pulling you to him protectively.

“Hisung, what the fuck do you want?” Taehyung’s tone was leveled with a sense of controlled rage, clear effort to contain himself and you were completely understanding of that. 

“Not much. I just find your marriage suspicious, and if I do then others do too. Wouldn’t want to taint the precious Kim reputation with that, now would we?” The remark was sly, causing Taehyung’s hold around you to tense.  

“What the fuck are you implying, exactly? Try making some sense.” 

“Your marriage isn’t convincing, jackass. There’s no way you two are really married, don’t think I don’t know there’s something behind it.” He stared squarely back at Taehyung, determined. “And when I get my hands on that information, don't think you're the only one who can sabotage someone.” Hisung was resolute as he declared his threat, only making Taehyung more resentful, more rash. 

“Your opinion doesn’t matter to me, jackass. Nothing you do does” Taehyung was confident in the argument and it oddly made you proud, now understanding why he was so successful and well-acclaimed. It’s like he truly didn't care what others thought and only lived for the purpose of what he found important to him, contributing to his confidence and composed approach towards life. He carried himself with an affirmed sense of self-worth that never bordered egotistical, and you were lying if you said it wasn’t hot sometimes. 

Because scratch that, it was incredibly hot. 

Hisung laughed humourlessly, hissing. “I don’t think we can say the same about Mrs. Kim, though, her opinion should matter to you, right?” He then suddenly turned his vision to you and drew closer, speaking in a superficially saccharine tone. “Jagiya, you should really look into who your husband is. He’s not half the man he says he is.” Hisung suddenly came too close and Taehyung immediately tugged you behind him, shielding your smaller frame as his tone dangerously darkened. 

“Don’t call her that, and never fucking come near her.” Taehyung was seething now, clutching one of your hands so tightly you became worried of his heightened emotions.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Hisung mimicked him. “She should know I’d treat her better than her asshole of a husband, make sure she’s nice and satisfied with how much of a man I am compared to you.” Hisung remarked without a single care, and you nearly felt the blooding searing in Taehyung’s veins. 

But you could tell that was exactly Hisung’s goal; to rile Taehyung up and it unfortunately worked. No longer was the calm, cool and collected Taehyung you knew, instead feeling him suddenly rush towards Hisung with a fist until you gripped onto his jacket from behind, calling his name. 

“Tae.” Your voice was soft, immediately stopping him as you clutched urgently. Taehyung could hear the frailty of your worried voice, could feel your little hold on his jacket as he came to his senses.

Taehyung grinded his teeth hard as his fist tightened for a mere second before steadily loosening, calming himself down before he made his last remark. “Go fuck yourself, Hisung.” Taehyung spat with pure disdain as he turned around and swept up your hand, leading you away from the situation as far as possible. 

He pulled you along hastily, walking with a sense of speed that almost had you tripping on your dress. You were seconds from telling him to slow down until he stopped you both in a hallway.

“Taehyung, wh-” You almost got out until Taehyung suddenly pushed you up against the nearest wall, breath hot and heavy as he huffed frustratedly, raw anger written all over him. 

Taehyung’s entire towering body was unexpectedly inches from you, his forearms laid against the marble tiling above your head as he hung his own low, almost trying to conceal his face into your shoulder. It’s like he was blocking you off from any other person, defensively caging you as his chest rose and fell shallowly with white hot anger, your face tucked into his shoulder. His heated breath was continuously tickling the exposed skin of your neck, so close your heart was beating faster than it should’ve. 

You were only left shocked, hands fallen slack by your sides and unable to move. 

“I’m sorry.” He huffed out suddenly. “Fuck, I’m so sorry I’m just.. really angry right now and I can’t calm down.” Taehyung seemed infuriated though worried, his hands clutching into fists above you as he leaned in even closer, mere centimeters between you two as he remained pressed into your personal space.

“Shit, don’t be scared I just-fuck, I hate him. He’s the only person who makes me so angry.” Taehyung breathed out frustratedly, eyes shut as he tried to control himself. “And fuck, I didn’t want him near you. I don’t want him to talk to you. I don’t want anyone to fucking come near you.” 

Taehyung’s confessions kept coming and you were simply taken aback, another show of his emotions on full display and you wondered how he always so neatly composed himself.

“Tae-”

“Just stay in front of me, please.” He begged. “Where I can see you, just stay here.” He stressed, trying his best to breathe properly but only failed. “I don’t.. think I like when other guys are around you.” He confessed out of nowhere, trying to work through the claim hesitantly at first until he eventually nodded, affirming it. 

“Yeah, I don’t like it.” He declared as he continued to lean in, his proximity allowing for you to constantly smell his intoxicating, Invictus cologne; its sexy scent paired with his perfectly tailored suit hugging the curves of his large, broad body only arousing your nerves. 

“God, fuck.” He huffed out. “No matter what, stay away from Hisung. Never talk to him. He ruins everything he touches, every fucking thing.” Taehyung was dead serious, still hiding his face from you as he spoke angrily near your ear. “He’s been trying to ruin me for years. He’s already tried with everything else and he’ll come for you. He can’t ruin our marriage, and I swear to God if he fucking does anything to you-”

“Taehyung, hey, shh.” You brought your hands up to his chest to try calming him down, able to discern Taehyung ever rarely grew angry and when he did, just needed someone to quell his troubles. “Breathe, Taehyung, breathe, okay?” You spoke with a soft tone, trying to contrast the white hot anger you could sense in him by rubbing his chest pacifyingly. 

Taehyung immediately tensed at the action, almost in shock until he ultimately tried to breathe, slow and steady. 

“There you go, that’s better.” You encouraged into his shoulder, hands resting and lightly massaging as you inquired. “Talk to me, Taehyung, what’s wrong? Who’s Hisung?” 

“Fuck, I’ll get angry again.” He warned, breath still hot and heavy as you smoothed over his dress shirt, trying to soothe him.  

“It’s okay. I’m here, Tae, you have me. Tell me anything.” You assured and attempted to mirror his own words from a week ago, worried about his open show of emotions and thinking you should be helpful, make sure you're supplying all the support he needs because he may never be this open again. 

Taehyung’s temper was still high, more of his hot breath on your shoulder as he spoke, lips still by your ear and the bass in his voice sending currents through you. 

“It goes back 3 years, rival companies.” He began. “His father was dismissed as CEO and they held a shareholders meeting to decide a new one. Long story short, he won the vote, but only by a 49-51 percent margin. He barely scrapped by, and after he was appointed CEO he found out his major shareholders voted against him. What made things worse was that right after, they pulled all their shares from his company and invested in mine, and he fucking-” Taehyung was growing frustrated again recounting the story, his body rising and falling faster until your hands snaked up to his jaw, fingers splaying across his cheeks as you held his face pacifyingly. 

“Taehyung, breathe again. You’re fine.” You felt him listen to you, breathing deeply as he became more composed again, continuing.

“He thinks I sabotaged him, that I colluded with his shareholders and used my money when I never did. I only had acquainted relationships with them at the time and never convinced them of anything. They told me they chose to invest because they saw me as the better company, the more competent CEO.” Taehyung was venting, and you let him exactly do so by attentively listening, holding him. 

“It wasn’t my fault, but he thinks it is. And now he’s made it his life’s mission to ruin mine, ruin anything he can get his hands on because he’s convinced I ruined his.” Taehyung sounded upset, clearly fed up with having to deal with such an incessant pain in the ass. 

“Just not you,” He sounded like he was pleading, a whisper. “Not fucking you, he can’t ruin us, or our marriage.”  

“He won’t, Taehyung. We won’t let him.” The pads of your thumbs smoothed over Taehyung’s skin, trying to ease him as he moved back slightly, vision meeting yours.

“Y/N, I don’t lie. I wouldn’t sabotage anybody, I don’t play dirty like that. Even if the business world is riddled with people like that, I would never do it. I’m not like that at all.” A hint of desperation leaked into his tone, eyes gentle as he so emphatically tried to convince you he was nothing like Hisung said. 

And you found your heart softening thinking about the fact that it affected him so much. That while he didn’t care what others thought of him, he somehow valued what you thought. 

“Taehyung, don’t worry, I know, okay? You’re completely fine. He just tries to rile you up because he knows you’re better, more competent.” You slid your hands back down over his neck, letting them rest over his strong chest again. It made your breaths uneven, registering how close he was to you, just inches from your face. 

“He probably knows those shareholders chose you because you’re the better CEO. He knows it, he just tries to deny the truth by looking for ways to ruin your life, so he doesn’t have to accept he’s inferior.” You offered earnestly, rhythmically smoothing him over. Taehyung’s eyes suddenly swirled with a sense of ease, his tense body now seeming to relax. “You think so?” 

“Of course, Tae. You’re nothing like that, I know you’re not.” You said determinedly, gripping his shirt lightly to drive your point forward, eyes conveying warmth. 

Though the response that met you was Taehyung gazing into your eyes boldly as he heard you address him so casually by a nickname already, his look containing something you couldn’t decipher, and it left butterflies swarming your chest. 

You didn’t realize how intoxicatingly close you both were in this position; Taehyung’s arms caging you against the wall, body pressing into you as he looked at you, not breathing hard anymore but hotly, like he was feeling something he was attempting to manage. Your hands funnily contrasted the size of his chest as he glanced at them, then up at him, clutching him a little tighter the more the tension seemed to build.  

It was obvious now, both of you were merely staring at each other, Taehyung’s Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed and your eyes followed the movement, something unknown alighting inside you at the image. It called necessary attention to his sculpted neck and you found yourself wondering if you’d ever get to lay kisses on it, possibly even mark it

You bit your lip at the thought, hating that such an idea dawned on you, igniting with something unholy the more you breathed in his sexy scent, his large body enclosing you. It sent chills down your spine, trying to contain yourself by shifting and clamping down on your lip harder.

Taehyung’s eyes flickered to the very action, his undivided attention now on your mouth. He could feel every harder squeeze of your hands on his chest as the heat rose, fisting his own hands against the wall with the need to draw himself closer to you, especially with the way you looked right now. 

Taehyung already couldn’t keep his hands off you when you resembled the hottest, and yet most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen in that dress. Either a sweet angel descended from heaven or the right kind of demon he craved. It was even more difficult knowing it’s a dress he chose, adoring the way you were wrapped up in his favourite colour, and thought red has never looked better on anyone else.

It also made him think of some things he shouldn’t speak aloud. Though Taehyung knew you, and knew you weren't ready for anything of that sort, so he remained collected and only stuck to having an arm around you tonight, mindful of boundaries. 

But when you were under his scrutiny, smaller self tucked against a wall because of him and clearly hot and bothered yourself, your exposed skin raking his brain, he couldn’t keep from nearing your lips. 

He’s once felt how soft they were before, seeing on multiple occasions how plushy they truly are and desiring to feel that same soft sensation again. So he disregarded all thought, coming forward inch by inch as he gauged your response, and when he viewed you fluttering your eyes shut and lifting your head towards him, he fought back cracking a smirk. 

Taehyung was milliseconds from connecting your mouths, feeling the skin of his lips blissfully brush yours as his sweet breath invaded your mouth, only for a frantic voice suddenly calling out his name to interrupt, the very culprit tumbling into the hallway. 

“Taehyung! Y/N- oh shit.” Taehyung immediately ducked his face away from you and you hastily let him go, Taehyung puffing out frustrated air as he met his friends’ eyes. “Jimin.. what?” 

“I-uh. I’m sorry, but I got Hisung kicked out and we’re gonna start the last toast. You guys should um...be there.” Jimin cleared his throat and began shuffling, avoiding eye contact with the both of you. 

“Okay, we’re coming.” 

“Sorry, again.” Jimin bowed lightly and nearly made a break for it. 

Taehyung sighed heavily, pushing himself off the wall and straightening up as he freed you, finally able to breathe peacefully. 

“We should um.. go.” He voiced awkwardly.

“Yeah.. just give me a second. I’ll be back from the restroom.” You dared to make eye contact with him to seem unaffected, though panicked the instant your gazes locked.

“Okay.” He nodded, seeming unbothered.

You grasped the skirt of your dress and your heels clacked against the tiled flooring as you scurried off, needing to find the bathroom to see whether or not you appeared as much of a mess as you felt. 

You bolted inside and ran towards the sink, spotting two women possibly your age by the mirror though ultimately ignored them, patting over your cheeks to feel how warm they were. 

Were you really just seconds away from kissing Taehyung? Kissing him? What would’ve happened if Jimin never walked in? Would you have kissed him for however long, would you have stopped it? 

Even better question, why didn’t you stop it? Why were you so ready to kiss him, maybe even excited by the very idea? It sent a chill down your spine, even recalling that Taehyung stated earlier he liked your lips. 

Kim Taehyung liked your lips, the same ridiculously high-status, wealthy man people were on their knees for, practically Seoul’s most powerful CEO and Korea’s seemingly unattainable bachelor; that same Taehyung was the one who liked not only your lips, but your height, even your eyes. 

He said they were nice. 

You didn’t even want to unbox the entire Hisung situation. He so naturally defended you, even held you back out of consideration for your safety it seemed, and it frightened you how much you liked it, liked that he was so protective and made all those confessions about disliking other men around you.

It may have been possessive, but you fucking liked it. 

And you already felt doomed. 

You were simply imploding on yourself, having your own personal meltdown when one of the two women audaciously addressed you, tone light and airy. 

“Oh my God, are you Min Y/N?” She inquired. 

You flashed your eyes to her, answering with furrowed eyebrows. “Uh, Kim Y/N now, but yes.” 

“Wow, so you’re the woman Kim Taehyung married?” The other one perked up. 

“..Yes.” You answered confused.  

The other woman really scoffed here, scoffed, “Song-i, it’s the other way around. She married him.” The rather rude looking woman clarified, and you found out right after just how rude she was. “The Kim Taehyung would never willingly marry someone like her.” 

Your expression immediately contorted, unbelieving of her audacity. “Excuse me?” 

“Don’t think we’re stupid, everyone knows you seduced him into it.” She nearly spat, tone snobby as ever. 

You guffawed humourlessly, truly having it up to here with today because it seemed never-ending with bullshit. “Think what you want, but I didn’t seduce him.” 

“We know you’re lying, he wouldn’t marry some runaway like you. You came out of nowhere, you clearly got into his bed before you got him to the altar.” The other one added on, painting their twisted narrative together. 

“It wasn’t like that all, but if you want to think so because you’re not the one he takes home at night, then be my fucking guest.” You countered them, look sharp enough you were sure you could cut a diamond. 

They both took immediate offence, having the audacity to near you and invade your personal space. “You’re not the only woman he’s taken home, do you really think you’re special?” She insinuated something you weren’t dumb enough to not catch, heart sinking at the thought. 

“What exactly are you trying to get at?” 

“The fact that he married you as a favour, you runaway, and everyone knows your marriage isn’t love at all.” She relayed with a snippy tone. “Don’t you get you’re just charity to him? Everyone knows it, sweetie.” 

You were trying hard to think of a way to counter, though your stinging heart took the jab like it was white hot lightning. You felt crushed within seconds at the comment hitting home, sinking lower until you spoke up. 

“Our marriage isn’t your business. Maybe try getting a life before you revolve it around mine.” You spat as you sent them a petty look, making your way out and almost exiting until you felt a splash of water hitting the back of your hair, mouth falling agape at the sheer audacity of what just fucking happened. 

“Your life is fucking miserable. You’ll stay by his side but he’ll never love you. Keep acting like your his real wife and see what’ll happen. Everyone hates you and how you made him marry you out of pity. Watch your back, runaway, you never know when he might end it all and break your little heart.” You almost, almost turned around to land a right hook across the girl’s face until you decided against it, composing yourself with a breathing mantra and instead choosing your favourite way of leaving a bad situation. 

With a snarky last word. 

“Seems he’s already broken yours with this ring, huh? Stay mad at the ring bitches, stay mad at the ring.” You smiled condescendingly as you flaunted Taehyung’s twelve thousand dollar ring, walking out of the bathroom despite their exclamations and practically marching towards the hall, seething. 

You arrived inside and plopped down on your seat next to Taehyung bitterly, utterly vexed as you crossed your arms and grinded your teeth. 

“Hey, where were you?” Taehyung asked. “You missed the toast.” 

“Could’ve done it without me anyway.” You replied curtly, all the information you received in just 2 minutes ruling your thoughts and sending you into a storm of anger, spoiling your mood. 

Taehyung became confused. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Nothing.” You huffed and reached for your glass of water, taking a large swig and nearly slamming it back onto the table. 

Taehyung reacted surprised. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” He became apprehensive of your mood, grabbing your hand on the table gently as he searched for your eyes. 

Though he instead found your eyes flashing towards something else, someone else before you snatched your hand away, eyes set cold.  

“I said nothing.” 

Taehyung followed your previous line of sight and landed on two women finding their seats a few tables away, their own eyes immediately deflecting from him once he made eye contact.

And it really only took two seconds for Taehyung to connect the dots, recognizing their faces. 

Taehyung sighed heavily, feeling guilty and suddenly apologetic about the possible situation, knowing something must have been said to you. 

He turned back around, “Y/N, what happened?” He tried inquiring again, though you responded with absolutely nothing, completely crossed and avoiding him. 

He exhaled tiredly, this day having been the epitome of a joke. Taehyung was scanning over you again when he suddenly noticed the ends of your hair, distinguishing they were wet and he found it strange. “Y/N, why the fuck is your hair wet?” He was moving to touch the damp parts until you evaded him, tone rigid. 

“Nothing, Taehyung.” 

Taehyung sighed again, frustrated as he once again put two-and-two together, remembering you’d all come from the restroom and addressed you. “What did they say, Y/N? Tell me right now, is that why your hair’s wet?” 

“No, Taehyung, nothing happened,” You stressed, turning your body even further away from him and crossing your arms tighter. 

Taehyung determined he’s truly had enough of today and rose from his seat, you noticing though choosing to ignore him. Taehyung quickly resolved he was going to fix this, beyond agitated this entire day had been damned to hell. He was having a good time too, especially keeping in mind whatever in God’s name was happening between you two, and only knowing that it made him inexplicably happy for some reason. 

Though that mood was ruined now, Taehyung shaking away his thoughts as he began plotting his approach towards your situation, entirely pissed off as he made his way towards the bar, concocting his plan. 

It took Taehyung only a good 10 minutes to get what he needed, snatching the nicest bottle of champagne and trying to remember where he’d observed the two women sitting, strolling his way over to the table with his fakest grin.  

“Good evening, ladies.” He greeted with a saccharine tone as he neared them. 

“Oh my God, Taehyung!” One of the girls beamed. “We haven’t seen you so long, what are you doing here?” 

“Yeah, too long!” 

“It has.” Taehyung smiled. “I actually wanted to offer this.” Taehyung then revealed the bottle of champagne from behind his back, holding it out towards them. 

The two women became elated, practically cheering as they clearly admired Taehyung more than he liked. “Oh wow! Thank you so much!” One of them thanked, receiving the bottle bashfully. 

“You’re too kind, Taehyung, did you really get this for us?” The other inquired, a bright smile on her face. 

“Actually, I didn’t.” 

Both women looked at each other confused, eyebrows furrowed. “You.. didn’t?” 

“No,” Taehyung responded with a bleak expression in near offence they’d assume that, smile wiped from his face. “You both did.”

“Wh-what?” They both questioned, incredulous. 

“I put it on your tabs, geniuses. There’s 6 more bottles, by the way.” 

Both women’s eyes went wide, immediately protesting. “T-this is the most expensive bottle of champagne here!” They looked annoyed, and Taehyung was all about it.  

“I know.” Taehyung smiled condescendingly, drawing closer to the women and dropping his tone to a scarily low, threatening octave. 

“Say anything to my wife again and I’ll make sure you pay more.” Taehyung finalized and rubbed his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he walked away, smirking. He ignored their protests as he passed by the bartender, winking for the 6 other bottles of champagne to be delivered to them. 

Taehyung then made his way to you, now in a hurry to leave this awful night behind as he gently gripped your arm, speaking into your ear to not alert anyone else at the table. “Y/N, we’re leaving.” 

Taehyung didn’t really have to wait, you responding rapidly, “Don’t have to tell me twice.” You were already rising from your seat, done with this entire Godforsaken night yourself. 

You both stepped away together, just about reaching the hall doors until Taehyung stopped you in front, holding you by your arms. “Stay here, I’ll get your coat.” 

You nodded at him and Taehyung bolted off, wanting to nab your coat as fast as possible so he could drape it around you and practically flaunt your relationship in front of everyone. He didn’t care if it was fake anymore, didn’t care for the legitimacy of his actions; he simply wanted the world to know you’re his wife, purposely wanted those two girls and everyone to see him treating you affectionately.

And he most certainly wanted to squash any of the doubt Hisung called attention to earlier that kept bugging him, entailing your marriage already seeming fake to him, and could to multiple other people.  

So he retrieved the coats and came rushing back to you, having worn his as he approached you. You almost reached out for your coat until Taehyung halted you. 

“Don’t, I’m putting it on you.” He rounded the coat around your body, helping your arms into the sleeves. He pulled it snug around you and held onto the ends where it should’ve been buttoned, taking a moment to think. 

Taehyung simply gazed at you, licking his lips contemplating what more he could do in this moment that would be convincing enough, knowing there had to be people watching you two right now. 

He realized he was staring without having said anything. “Sorry, I’m trying to think of something to do for everyone watching but I don’t know what.” Taehyung flashed to your lips and his mind explored the idea, though ultimately fought against it. 

“People are watching?” You inquired.

“Yeah,” Taehyung clutched onto your jacket, trying to think as he looked at your little bundled up self. 

“But I’m not sure what to do-” Taehyung was cut off by you suddenly grabbing his tie and crashing your lips onto his in a single second. 

Taehyung’s eyes blew out, taken by surprise until he found himself quickly melting into your kiss, hands gripping your jacket tighter. He couldn’t help himself from opening up his mouth to catch more of yours, lips sensually kissing yours in a slow, unhurried pace. 

You instantly loved the way he kissed, Taehyung somehow having taken control when you were the one who initiated everything, completely taken by his pillowy, delicate lips. 

Taehyung didn’t care if your lipstick smudged onto him or how brash the public display of affection seemed; all he cared about was the soft feeling of your lips against his own, and the sexy way you wre tugging him by his tie.

He knew it would stay on his mind for weeks. 

You were getting lost until he disconnected your mouths, only looking at each other with undecipherable feelings, shimmering eyes that had no clue what just happened. 

Taehyung smiled before sweeping up your hand in an instant, pulling you out of the hall and eventually outside to quickly sent a text to his driver, guiding you to the curb of the venue. 

He held you against him to keep you warm while walking, suddenly speaking up when something occurred to him. 

“You called me Tae, you know.” 

“What?” 

“My nickname, you called me by it earlier.” Taehyung repeated. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just heard your friends say it and it slipped out, I didn’t mean to-”

“Say it all you want.” Taehyung was grinning to himself like an idiot, thinking you weren’t looking at him but that’s exactly what you were doing, admiring the curve of his perfect cupid’s bow with hints of your lipstick smeared on him. “It’s better when you say it.” 

And now it was your turn to smile like an idiot. 

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[wingedblooms]

Far larger forces

The rebirth of the Valkyries has destiny written all over it. But there is one phrase in particular that makes me wonder, especially after reading HOSAB (CC2).

Emerie said, “Nothing can break us.”

The world seemed to pause at the words. As if it had been following one path and now branched off in another direction. In a hundred years, a thousand, this moment would still be etched in his mind. That he would tell his children, his grandchildren, Right then and there. That was when it all changed.

Azriel went wholly still, as if he, too, had felt the shift. As if he, too, were aware that far larger forces peered into that training ring as Gwyn moved.

Azriel’s heightened senses seem to pick up on another presence. The question is, which larger forces are peering into the training ring? There are endless possibilities, but three stand out to me: (1) farseeing and benevolent Urd; (2) Princes of Hel; or (3) mystics of the Asteri. Since “forces” is plural, it could also be all three interested parties.

Farseeing and benevolent Urd

Urd is the goddess of fate and most associated with the House of Shadow and Flame in the CC series. We learn more about this mysterious goddess in HOSAB through various characters, particularly the Under-King:

No statues ever adorned Urd’s Temple—no depiction of the goddess had ever been made. Fate took too many forms to capture in one figure.

The Under-King rose, black robes drifting on a phantom wind. “I thought the Fae bowed to Luna, but perhaps you remember the old beliefs? From a time when Urd was not a goddess but a force, winding between worlds? When she was a vat of life, a mother to all, a secret language of the universe? The Fae worshipped her then.”

The goddess of fate is quite elusive; she is described specifically as a force, a vat of life, a mother to all. I talked about this in a post connecting fate’s shifting forms to Elain, but it also reminded me of what Gwyn says regarding the worship of priestesses in ACOTAR:

Nesta knew she could let the conversation end there, but she asked, “And what do you do with the time you’re not in the library? Practice your … religious things?”

Gwyn huffed a soft laugh. “In part. We honor the Mother, and the Cauldron, and the Forces That Be. We have a service at dawn and at dusk, and on every holy day.”

That sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it?

Mother = mother to all

Cauldron = vat of life

Forces That Be = a force, winding between worlds

The Forces That Be mentioned by Gwyn may be synonymous with the Fate Rhysand references when he tells Feyre who determines mating bonds:

“I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?”

Rhys straightened his lapels before plucking an invisible piece of lint from them. “Fate, the Mother, the Cauldron’s swirling eddies …”

It would make sense if these sacred three were connected, and perhaps even parts of the same whole as the Under King suggests. When Nesta scries for the Cauldron, the language hints at this sacred, interconnected force as well:

It had taken a few moments the first and only time she’d done it. To let her mind go empty, to wait for that tug through her body that had hauled her toward an unseen force. She’d been whipped across the earth, and when she’d opened her eyes, she’d been standing in a war-tent, the King of Hybern before her, the Cauldron a squatting, dark mass beyond.

The Cauldron. Yawning emptiness answered. Nesta furrowed her brow, clenching the items harder. Pictured the Cauldron: the vast bowl of darkest iron, so large multiple people could have used it as a bathtub. It had a physical shape, yet when that icy water had swallowed her, there had been no bottom. Just a chasm of freezing water that had soon become utter darkness. The thing that had existed before light; the cradle from which all life had come.

Sweat beaded on her brow, as if her very body rebelled against the memory, but she made herself recall how it had sat in the King of Hybern’s war-tent, squatting atop the reeds and rugs, a primordial beast that had been half-asleep when she’d entered.

And then it had opened an eye. Not one she could see, but one that she could feel fixed on her. It had widened as it realized who stood there: the female who had taken so much, too much. It had narrowed all of its depthless power, its rage, upon her, a cat trapping a mouse with its paw.

The Cauldron seems to be an unseen force of Urd, and as I have discussed both here and here, it may be intimately connected to Void: the cradle from which all life came, including our Princes of Hel and Under King.

If Urd is indeed this sacred three, then it is even more likely that her influence truly winds between worlds. In HOSAB, we learn that both shifters (who may descend from fae in TOG) and fae (who descend from fae in ACOTAR) have similar concepts of fated mates, one that is explicitly connected to Urd.

There were several definitions of the term mate—though Bryce supposed that to Ithan, to a shifter, only one mattered: one’s true lover, predestined by Urd. The Fae had a similar concept—a mate was a bond deeper than marriage, and beyond an individual’s control.

And yet, in the CC series, we learn that there might be an even more powerful force than fate:

It was the ancient Prime of the wolves who answered, his withered voice rising above the pinging of the graph. “With the strength of the most powerful force in the world. The most powerful force in any realm.” He pointed to the screen. “What brings loyalty beyond death, undimming despite the years. What remains unwavering in the face of hopelessness.”

That powerful force is love. Through love, all is possible. As the Prime confirms in HOEAB, love is at the heart of loyalty and hopefulness, and that is what we witness between the Valkyries when they are reborn as a fighting force. That love may have altered fate, which branched off into a different direction than was planned. And this deviation may have caused Urd—the Mother, Fate, Cauldron—to sit up and take notice. It is that very love and devotion between the Valkyries that will be needed to weather the other forces that might be at play in this scene.

Princes of Hel

Was it Urd Azriel felt in the training ring, or another force entirely? Hel might also have its reasons for witnessing, or even influencing, the events taking place in Prythian. According to Apollyon, Prince of the Pit, Hel has been preparing its armies to return to Midgard and defeat the Asteri once and for all. Both @offtorivendell and @silverlinedeyes have theorized that Hel may have found a way to access Prythian through cracks between the worlds, one of which might be in the Night Court library. They also believe that the Illyrians may descend from relations between fae and Princes of Hel, such as Apollyon, who seems to bear the leathery wings that make the Illyrians distinct among winged fae in ACOTAR. Is it possible that a Prince of Hel could have nudged certain priestesses to learn about other worlds and the Valkyries, just like they have been nudging Bryce and Hunt in Midgard?

At the same time those pieces are being put into place, the Trove has resurfaced for the first time in centuries. The Trove, when united, can do a few important things:

Nesta forced herself to ignore the nauseating thought as Amren continued, “If you were to gather all three objects, you could use the potency of their combined Made essence to track down the Cauldron, no matter where it is.”

“Not to mention gain three objects of terrible power,” Azriel added grimly. “Capable of granting even a human army an advantage against the Fae.”

“Raise the dead,” Cassian mused, his face tightening, any trace of that approving smile gone, “and you’d have an unstoppable force, able to march without rest or food. Open any door, and you could move that army of the dead wherever you wished. And with unrestrained influence, you could make any enemy territory and its people bow to you.”

So, to recap, we now have:

a reborn female fighting force combining Valkyrie and Illyrian methods,

an existing Illyrian fighting force that might descend from Hel, and

three objects of terrible power that can locate the Cauldron, raise an unstoppable force, and take them wherever the bearer wished.

It seems no coincidence that we now also have one returned Starborn princess who is searching for the Princes and armies of Hel—in Prythian. What if the armies Apollyon referred to weren’t exclusive to his world? If my friends’ theories are correct, Apollyon and his brothers (particularly Aidas) may have found a way to influence their theoretical descendants into preparing for a war against the Asteri, including raising an unstoppable army of the dead. If they have access to the Void—which is where all souls return—through the Cauldron, could they bring back long-dead warriors, such as the fierce Valkyries, to fight alongside the living armies of Prythian, Hel, and Midgard? Are we in for a Return of the King moment of ghostly battle, like @silverlinedeyes and @offtorivendell brilliantly suggested? Or would they be mere reanimated corpses like Nesta’s experience at Oorid? Either way, this would ensure that Hel has the forces to face the threat of the Asteri again and come through victorious this time around. But given their past betrayal of the fae, it is possible that the defeat of the Asteri would simply lead to the rise of yet another conqueror: the Princes of Hel.

Mystics of the Asteri

Urd and Hel may not be alone in their influence. The rifts are closed, which @offtorivendell, @silverlinedeyes, and I suspect is related to the protection the death-god siblings may have offered. Like the interlocking circles of the Archesian amulet, the death-god siblings together may have kept Prythian from enemy detection and access that weakened with each sibling’s death. Hence, the arrival of not one, but two beings from the worlds of TOG and CC after the Carver’s and Weaver’s deaths. @offtorivendell theorized that Koschei’s demise could unlock the rifts entirely and give Asteri access to Prythian after centuries of being thwarted. They desire to return to Prythian above all else:

“So that star will lead us back to that world. Through you. They overthrew our brethren who once ruled there—we have not forgotten. Our initial attempt at revenge was foiled by your ancestor who also bore that star on her chest. The Fae have still not atoned for the deaths of our brothers and sisters. Their home world was rich in magic. I crave more of it.”

Even if they are cut off from the cosmos physically, the Asteri have a host of mystics to spy across the cosmos for them.

“In the Eternal City, I heard they have a thousand mystics in the palace catacombs, mapping farther and farther into the cosmos. Speaking with creatures we shall never know.”

Rage rippled through his every word. “Your Starborn ancestors shut the gates to stop us from invading their realm once more and reminding them who their true masters are. And in the process, they shut the gates to all other worlds, including those to Hel, their stalwart allies. And so we have been trapped here. Cut off from the cosmos. All that is left of our people, though our mystics beneath this palace have long sought to find any other survivors, any planets where they might be hiding.”

These mystics aren’t mere spectators, either. According to Rigelus, they can pry into and influence minds, similar to the daemati gift Rhysand possesses. Can that ability expand beyond Midgard, as their exploration does?

“We were eventually notified by one of our mystics here, who learned it from prying into the mind of one of Ophion’s Command. So we did a little tugging. Pointed Micah toward synth. Toward Danika.”

“You think Micah acted alone? He was a brash, arrogant male. All it took was some nudging, and he killed her for us. Had no idea it was on our behalf, but it played out as we planned: he was eventually caught and killed for disturbing our peace. I thank you for that.”

Could they be one of the larger, unseen forces that Azriel sensed? Are they capable of not only watching, but also manipulating characters in Prythian? They crave access to Prythian for revenge, to show them once again who their conquerors are. By locating the Trove items, someone might also be able to open the gates—either as part of, or a back-up plan to, using the Horn tattooed on Bryce. Is it possible for someone who isn’t Made to use the Trove if they wear a powerful amulet, like Bryce did in HOEAB? Is that why Elain’s necklace, described as an amulet, made it’s way into someone else’s possession after Azriel found himself at the library, despite his every intention otherwise? Was that fate or another unseen force that influenced his behavior? Was he nudged in a different direction, like Micah, when his defenses were weakened? If the Asteri are at play in this scheme, they would need to create discord and instability to weaken a powerful enemy, including the most powerful court in that world. This influence might also explain the conflicts arising from multiple directions: Koschei, Autumn Court, the human territories, continental fae territories, Illyrians, Day Court, and even within the inner circle of the Night Court. Are these issues a coincidence, or an intentional unraveling by the unseen force of the Asteri and their mystics?

As always, only time—and Sarah J. Maas—will tell.

[pumpkinpaix]

Pleeeeeeease get into the class one at some point because I very much want to understand the class dynamics happening in the story but I have yet to find a meta that dives into it

god anon you want me dead don’t you alsjdfljks

referring to this post

okay, so -- my specific salt about class interpretations in mdzs are very targeted. I can’t pretend to have a deep understanding of how class works in mdzs generally because uhhhhh yeah i don’t think i have that. i’m just not familiar enough with the genre and/or the particulars of chinese class systems. but! i can talk in general terms as to why I feel a certain way about the class dynamics that I do think I understand and how I think they relate to the themes of the novel! i’m gonna talk about wei wuxian, the daozhangs, xue yang, and 3zun with, I’m sure, a bunch of digressions along the way.

the usual disclaimers: i do not think you are a bad person if you hold opinions contrary to my own. i may disagree with you very strongly, but like. this isn’t a moral judgment, fandom is transformative and interpretive etc. etc. and i may change my mind. who knows what the future will bring!

OKAY so let’s begin!

here’s the thing about wei wuxian: he’s not poor. I think because characters use “son of a servant” kind of often when they’re trying to insult him, a lot of people latch onto that and think that it’s a much stronger indication of his societal status than it actually is. iirc, most of the insults that fall along the “son of a servant” line come after wei wuxian starts breaking severely from tradition. it’s a convenient thing to attack him for, but doesn’t actually indicate anything about his wealth. (exception: yu ziyuan, but that’s a personal familial issue) this is in direct contrast to jin guangyao who is constantly mocked for his family line, publicly and privately, no matter what he does.

so this, coupled with all the jokes about wwx never having any money (wei wuqian, sizhui’s “i’ve long since known you had no money” etc.), plus his like, rough years on the street as a child ends up producing this interpretation of wei wuxian, especially in modern aus, as someone who is very class conscious and “eat the rich”. but the fact of the matter is, wei wuxian IS rich. aside from the years in his childhood and the last two years of his life in yiling, like -- wei wuxian had money and status. he is gentry. he is respected as gentry. he is treated as a son by the sect leader of yunmeng jiang -- he does not have the jiang name, but it is so very clear that jiang fengmian favors him. wei wuxian is ranked fourth of all the eligible young masters in the cultivation world -- that is not a ranking he could have attained without being accepted into the upper class.

wei wuxian’s poverty does not affect him in the way that it affects jin guangyao or xue yang. he is of low-ish birth (still the son of jiang fengmian’s right hand man though! ok sure, “son of a servant” but like. >_> whatever anyways), but for most of his life he had money. he, jiang cheng, and their sect brothers go into town and steal lotus pods with the understanding that “jiang-shushu will pay for it”. this is a regular thing! that’s fucking rich kid behavior!!! wei wuxian is careless with money because he doesn’t have to worry about it. he still has almost all the benefits of being upper class: education, food security, respect, recognition etc. I think there may also be a misconception that wei wuxian was always on the verge of being kicked out by yu ziyuan, or that he was constantly walking on eggshells around her for fear of being disowned, but that is just textually untrue. i could provide receipts, but I admittedly don’t really feel like digging them up just now ;;

even in his last years in yiling, he was not the one who was dealing with the acute knowledge of poverty: wen qing is the one managing the money, and as far as we know, wei wuxian did little to no management of daily life during the burial mounds days -- mostly, he’s described as hiding in his cave for days on end, working on his inventions, running around like a force of chaos, frivolously making a mess of things -- it’s very very cute that he buries a’yuan in the dirt, but in classic wei wuxian fashion, he did Not think about the practical consequences of it -- that A’Yuan has no other clean clothes, and now he’s gotten this set dirty and has no intention of washing them. is this a personality thing? yeah, but I think it’s also indicative of his lack of concern over the logistics of everyday survival, re: wealth.

furthermore, i think it is important to remember that wei wuxian, when he is protecting the wen remnants, is not protecting common folk: he is still protecting gentry. fallen gentry, yes! but gentry nonetheless. wen qing was favored by wen ruohan, and wen ning himself says that he has a retinue of people under his command (the remnants, essentially). their branch of the family do not have the experience of living and growing in poverty -- they are impoverished and persecuted in their last years, but that’s a very different thing from being impoverished your whole life. (sidenote: I do not believe wei wuxian’s primary motivation for defending the wen remnants was justice -- i believe he did it because he felt he owed wen ning and wen qing a life debt, and once he was there, he wasn’t going to stand around and let the work camps go on. yes, he is concerned about justice and doing the right thing, but that’s not why he went in the first place. anyways, that’s another meta)

after wei wuxian returns, he then marries back into gentry, and very wealthy gentry at that. lwj provides him all the money he could ever want, he is never worried about going homeless, starving, being denied opportunities based on his class and accompanying disadvantages. who would dare? and neither wei wuxian nor lan wangji seem to have much interest in shaking up the order of things, except in little things like the way they teach the juniors. they live in gusu, under the auspices of the lan, and they live a happy, domestic life.

were his years on the street traumatizing? yes, of course they were, there’s so much delicious character exploration to be done re: wei wuxian’s relationship to food, his relationship to his own needs, and his relationship to the people he loves. it’s all important and good! but I feel very strongly that that experience, while it was formative for him, did not impart any true understanding of poverty and the common person’s everyday struggles, nor do I think he ever really gains that understanding. he is observant and canny and aware of class and blood, certainly, but not in a way that makes it his primary hill to die on (badum-tss).

this is in very stark contrast to characters like jin guangyao and xue yang, and to some extent, xiao xingchen and song lan. I’ll start with the daozhangs, because I think they’re the simplest (??).

I think both xiao xingchen and song lan have class consciousness, but in a very simplified, broad-strokes kind of way (at least, given the information we know about them). we know that the two of them share similar values and want to one day form their own sect that gives no weight to the nobility of your lineage and has no concern with your wealth. we also know that they both disdain intersect politics and are more concerned with ideals and principles rather than status. but, I think because of that, this actually somewhat limits their perception and understanding of how status is used to oppress. as far as we know, neither of them participated on any side in sunshot and they demonstrate much more interest in relating to the commoners. honestly, i hc that they were flitting around trying to help decimated towns, protecting defenseless villages etc. I ALSO think this has a lot of interesting potential in terms of xiao xingchen and wei wuxian’s relationship, if xiao xingchen is ever revived. regardless of whether you’re in CQL or novel verse, xiao xingchen really doesn’t know wei wuxian at all, other than knowing that he’s his shijie’s son. he knows that cangse-sanren met with a tragic end, like yanling-daoren before her, and that he wants to be different. but here is cangse-sanren’s son, laying waste to entire cities, desecrating the dead. I would very much like to get into xiao xingchen’s head during that period of time (and i think, if i do it right, i can write some of it into the songxiao fixit), but that’s neither here nor there, because i’ve wandered off from my point again.

i would posit that song lan is used to an ascetic lifestyle, and xiao xingchen probably is too -- but that’s different from poverty because there’s an element of choice to it. I also think that neither of them is particularly worldly, xiao xingchen especially. he lived on an isolated mountain until he was like, seventeen, and he came down full of ideals and naivete about how the world worked. I think that both of them see inequality, that they are angered by it, and that they want to do something about it -- but their solution is neither to topple the sects, nor is it to reform the system. rather, it seems to be more about withdrawing and creating their own removed world. I think that the daozhangs embody a kind of utopianism that isn’t present in the minds of any of the other characters, not even wangxian. honestly, baoshan-sanren’s mountain is a utopian ideal, but one that is not described. it exists outside of and beyond the world. i have a lot of jumbled, vague thoughts about utopianism generally, mostly informed by china miéville and ursula k. le guin, and I don’t think i have the ability to articulate them here, but i wanted to. hm. say something? there is something about the inherent dystopianism contained within every utopia, that utopias are necessary, but also reflections of the existence of terrible things in their conception. idk. there’s something in there, I know it!! but i suppose what I want to say is -- i do not think the daozhangs understand class and social hierarchy very deeply because they don’t see a need to examine it deeply. for their goals, the details aren’t the point. they’re not looking to reform within the system, they’re looking to build something outside of it. I think they spend a lot of time concerned with alleviating the symptoms of social oppression, and their values reflect the injustices they witness there.

regardless, even if their story ends in tragedy and there is a certain amount of critique re: the utopian approach, i think the text still emphasizes that xiao xingchen left a utopia and that he thought that people mattered enough for him to try, and that was an incredibly honorable, kind, and human thing to do.

YEAH SURE THE DAOZHANGS ARE THE SIMPLEST ok ok RETURNING to class and moving forward: xue yang.

i also don’t think xue yang has class consciousness lol, or not in any way that really matters, but I do think poverty impacted him in a much stronger way than it impacted wei wuxian. wei wuxian spent some years on the street as a child. xue yang grew up on the streets. chang ci’an’s horrific treatment of him was directly due to his class and social standing: chang ci’an is a nobleman and xue yang is not even worth the dirt beneath the wheels of his cart. what I think is the seminal point though, is that this does not make xue yang think particularly deeply about systemic injustice, because xue yang is so self-centered, self-driven, and individualistic. he is not even slightly concerned about how poverty and class might affect other people -- they’re other people. what he takes away from his experience is not an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a system, but an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a specific man.

xue yang is not particularly concerned with the politics of the aristocracy -- he has no obvious ambitions other than, “i want to eat sweets whenever i please”, “i want to hurt anyone who wrongs me”, and “i want to be so strong that no one can hurt me”. like, he just doesn’t care -- it’s not the kind of power he wants. he sneers at people for like, personal reasons, not class reasons -- “you think you’re better than me” re: xiao xingchen and song lan. to him, all people -- poor, wealthy, noble, common -- are essentially equal, and they are all beneath him. after all, what does he care what family someone comes from, how much money they have? everyone bleeds when you cut them. some of them might be harder to get to than others, but xue yang does not fear that sort of thing. it’s just another obstacle he needs to vault on his way to getting revenge and/or a pastry.

ANYWAYS onto jin guangyao (wow this is hm. getting rather long ahaha oh dear): I would argue that the two characters with the most acute understanding of class/societal politics and the injustice of them are jin guangyao and lan xichen. i’ll start with jin guangyao for obvious reasons.

where xue yang took the damaging effects of poverty as personal slights, I think jin guangyao is painfully aware that there is nothing personal about them, which is, in some ways, much worse. why are two sons, born on the same day to the same father, treated so differently? just because.

he watched his mother struggle and starve and work herself to the bone in a profession where she was constantly disrespected and abused for almost nothing in return, while his father could have lifted her out of poverty with the wave of a finger. why didn’t he? because he didn’t like her? no -- because he didn’t care, and the structures of the society they live in protect that kind of blase treatment of the lower class.

“so my mother couldn’t choose her own fate, is that her fault?” jin guangyao demands. he knows that he is unbelievably talented, that he has ambition, that he has potential, and that all of it is beyond his grasp just because his father didn’t want to bother with it. his mother’s life was destroyed, and his own opportunities were crippled with that negligence. it isn’t personal. that’s just the way things are. your individual identity is meaningless, your humanity does not exist. when he’s kicked down the steps of jinlin tai, it’s just more confirmation that no matter how talented or hardworking he is, no one will give him the time of day unless he finds a way to take it himself and become someone who “matters”.

jin guangyao’s cultivation is weak because he had a poor foundation, and he had a poor foundation because he was denied access to a good one. he copies others because that’s all he can do at this point, and he copies so well that he can hold his own against some of the strongest cultivators of his generation. he’s disparaged for copying and “stealing” techniques, but -- he never would have had to if only he had been born/accepted into the upper class. the fact is that i really do think jin guangyao was the most promising cultivator of his generation that we meet, including the twin jades and wei wuxian: he had natural talent, ambition, creativity, determination and cunning in spades. in some ways, I think that’s one of the overlooked tragedies of jin guangyao: the loss of not just the good man he could have been, but the powerful one too. imagine what he could have done.

jin guangyao spends his entire time in the world of the aristocracy feeling unsteady and terrified because he knows exactly how precarious his position is. he knows how easy it is to lose power, especially for someone like him. he’s working against so many disadvantages, and every scrap of honor he gets is a vicious battle. jin guangyao fears, and I think that’s something that’s lacking in xue yang, wei wuxian and the daozhangs’ experiences/understandings of poverty. i think it’s precisely that fear that emphasizes jin guangyao’s understanding of class and blood. jin guangyao exhibits an anxiety that neither wei wuxian nor xue yang do, and it’s because he truly knows how little he is worth in the eyes of society and how little there is he can do to change that. to me, it very much feels related to the anxiety of not knowing if tomorrow you’ll have something to eat, if tomorrow you’ll still have a home, if tomorrow someone will destroy you and never have to answer for it. it’s the anxiety of knowing helplessness intimately.

moreover, jin guangyao is the only person shown to use the wealth and power at his disposal to take concrete steps to actually help the common people typically ignored by the powerful -- the watchtowers. they’re described in chapter 42. it’s a system that is designed to cover remote areas that most cultivators are reluctant to go due to their inconvenience and the lack of means of the people who live there. the watchtowers assign cultivators to different posts, give aid to those previously forgotten, and if the people are too poor to pay what the cultivators demand, the lanling jin sect pays for it. jin guangyao worked on this for five years and burned a lot of bridges over it. people were strongly opposed to it, thinking that it was some kind of ploy for lanling jin’s personal benefit. but the thing is -- it worked. they were effective. people were helped.

i believe CQL frames the watchtowers as an allegory for a surveillance state/centralized control (i think?? it’s been a minute -- that’s the hazy impression i remember, something like a parallel to the wen supervisory offices?), but I personally don’t think that was the intent in the novel. the watchtowers are a public good. lanling jin doesn’t staff them with their own sect members -- they get nearby sects to staff them. it’s a warning network that they fund that’s supposed to benefit everyone, even those that everyone had considered expendable.

(did jin guangyao do terrible things to achieve this goal? yeah lol. it’s not confirmed, but his son sure did die... suspiciously...... at the hands of an outspoken critic of the watchtowers........ whom he then executed....... so like, maybe just a convenient coincidence for jin guangyao, two birds one stone, but. it seems. Unlikely.)

lan xichen is the only member of the gentry that ever shows serious compassion for and nuanced understanding of jin guangyao’s circumstances. lan xichen treats him as his equal regardless of jin guangyao’s current status -- even when he was meng yao, lan xichen treated him as a human being worthy of respect, as someone with great merits, as someone he would choose as a friend, but he did so knowing full well the delicate position meng yao occupied. this is in direct contrast to nie mingjue, who also believed that meng yao was worthy of respect as a human being, but was completely unable to comprehend the complexities of his circumstances and unwilling to grant him any grace. you know, the difference between “i acknowledge that your birth and status have had effects upon you, but I don’t think less of you for it” and “i don’t consider your birth and status at all when i interact with you because i think it is irrelevant” (“i don’t see color” anyone?)

to illustrate, from chapter 48:

大抵是觉得娼妓之子身上说不定也带着什么不干净的东西，这几名修士接过他双手奉上来的茶盏后，并不饮下，而是放到一边，还取出雪白的手巾，很难受似的，有意无意反复擦拭刚才碰过茶盏的手指。聂明玦并非细致之人，未曾注意到这种细节，魏无羡却用眼角余光扫到了这些。孟瑶视若未见，笑容不坠半分，继续奉茶。蓝曦臣接过茶盏之时，抬眸看他一眼，微笑道：“多谢。”

旋即低头饮了一口，这才继续与聂明玦交谈。旁的修士见了，有些不自在起来。

rough tl:

Probably because they believed that the son of a prostitute might also carry some unclean things upon his person, after these few cultivators took the teacups offered from [Meng Yao’s] two hands, they did not drink, but instead put them to one side, and furthermore brought out snow white handkerchiefs. Quite uncomfortably, and whether they were aware of it or not, they repeatedly wiped the fingers they had just used to touch the teacups. Nie Mingjue was not a detail-oriented person and never took note of such particulars, but Wei Wuxian caught these in the corner of his eye. Meng Yao appeared as if he had not seen, his smile unwavering in the slightest, and continued to serve tea. When Lan Xichen took the teacup, he glanced up at him and, smiling, said, “Thank you.”

He immediately dipped his head to take a sip, and only then continued to converse with Nie Mingjue. Seeing this, the nearby cultivators began to feel somewhat uneasy.

all right, since we’re in full cyan-rampaging-through-the-weeds mode at this point, i’m going to talk about how this is one of my favorite 3zun moments in the entire novel for characterization purposes because it really highlights how they all relate to one another, and to what degree each of them is aware of their own position in relation to the others and society as a whole.

1. nie mingjue, who is a forthright and blunt person, sets meng yao to serving tea and is done with it. he notices nothing wrong or inappropriate about the reactions of the people in the room because it’s not the sort of thing he considers important.

2. meng yao, knowing that his only avenue is to take it lying down with a smile, masks perfectly.

3. lan xichen, noticing all this, uses his own reputation to achieve two things at once: pointedly shame the other cultivators in attendance, and show meng yao that regardless of others’ opinions, he considers him an equal and does not endorse such behavior--and he does it while taking care that no fallout will come down on meng yao’s head.

is this yet another installment of cyan’s endless lxc defense thesis? why yes it is! no one is surprised! but this is my whole point: both meng yao and lan xichen understand the respective hierarchy and power dynamics within the room, while nie mingjue very much does not. this is not because nie mingjue is a bad person or because nie mingjue is stupid--it’s a combination of personality and upbringing. nie mingjue is straightforward and has no patience for such games. but then again, he can afford not to play because he was born into such a high position: that’s a privilege.

to break it down: meng yao knows that he is the lowest-ranked person in the room, sees the way people are subtly disrespecting him in full view of his general who is doing nothing about it. in some ways, this is good -- nie mingjue’s style of dealing with conflict is very direct and not at all suited to delicate political maneuvering. after all, the way he promoted meng yao was actually quite dangerous to meng yao: he essentially guaranteed that his men would bear meng yao a grudge and that their disrespect for him would only be compounded by their bitterness at being punished on his behalf. (it’s like, why often getting parents or teachers to intervene ineffectively in bullying can just be an incitement to more bullying -- same concept) meng yao’s reaction during that scene shows that he’s pretty painfully aware of this and is trying to defuse the situation to no avail. nie mingjue gives him a bootstrap speech (rip nie mingjue i love u so much but. sir) and then promotes him, which is pretty much the only saving grace of that entire exchange, for meng yao at least.

lan xichen, on the other hand, understands both that meng yao is the lowest-ranked person in the room and that any direct attempt to chastise the other cultivators in the room will only serve to hurt meng yao in the long run. he knows that if this were brought to nie mingjue’s attention, he would be outraged and not shy about it -- also bad for meng yao. so he uses what he has: his immaculate reputation. by acting contrary to the other cultivators’ behavior, he demonstrates that he finds their actions unacceptable but with the plausible deniability that it wasn’t directed at them, that this is just zewu-jun being his usual generous self. this means that the other cultivators have no one to blame but themselves, nothing to do but question their own actions. there is nowhere to cast off their discomfort. meng yao didn’t do anything. lan xichen didn’t do anything -- he just thanked meng yao and drank his tea, isn’t that what it’s there for? he doesn’t disrupt the peace, he doesn’t attack anyone and put them on the defensive, but he does make his position very clear.

i know this is a really small thing and i’m probably beating it to death, but I really think this shows just how cognizant lan xichen is of politics and emotional cause and effect in such situations. certainly, out of context I think the scene reads kind of cliche, but within the greater narrative of the story and within the arc of these characters specifically, I think it was a really smart scene to include. it also showcases lan xichen’s style of action: that he moves around and with a problematic situation as opposed to moving straight through.

not to be salty on main again, but this is why it’s very frustrating to me when I see people call lan xichen passive when he is anything but. his actions just don’t look like traditional “actions”, especially to an american audience. it’s easy to understand lan wangji and wei wuxian’s style of problem-solving: taking a stand, moving through, staying strong. lan xichen is juggling an inconceivable number of factors in any given situation, weighing his responsibilities in one role against those in another, and then trying to find the path through the thicket that will cause the least harm, both to himself and the thicket. lan wangji and wei wuxian are not particularly good at considering the far-reaching consequences of their actions -- again, not because they are bad people, but because of a combination of personality and upbringing. they’d just hack through the thicket, not thinking about the creatures that live in it. that is not a terrible thing! it isn’t. it’s a different way of approaching a problem, and it has different priorities. that’s okay. there are advantages and disadvantages on both sides, and where you come down is going to depend on your personal values.

okay we’ve spiraled far and away from my original point, but let’s circle back: i was talking about class.

I think it’s undeniable that class, birthright, fate etc. are some of the driving forces of thematic conflict in mdzs, and the way each character interacts with those forces reveals a lot about themselves and also about the larger themes of fate, chance, and what it means to be righteous and good and how that is and isn’t rewarded. a lot of the tragedy of mdzs (the tragedy that isn’t caused by direct aggression on the part of one group or another) stems from the injustices and slights that people suffered due to their lot in life. it isn’t fair. none of it is fair! we sympathize with jin guangyao because we recognize that what he suffered was unconscionable, even if we don’t excuse him. i sympathize A Lot with xue yang as well for similar reasons, though I understand that’s a harder sell. this is a story focused on the mistakes of an entrenched, aging gentry and the effects that those mistakes had on their children, and a lot of it has to do with prejudice based in class and birth status. whether the prejudice was the true reason or whether it was just a convenient excuse, the fact remains that the systems in place rewarded and protected the people in power who used it to cling to that power. mdzs is also a story of how the circumstances of one’s life can offer you impossible choices that you cannot abstain from, and it asks us to be compassionate to the people who made terrible choices in terrible times. it’s about the inherent complexity in all things! that sometimes, there are no good choices, and i don’t know, i’d like to think that people would show me compassion if I had to make the choices some of these characters did. not just wei wuxian, mind you, every single one of them. except jin guangshan because I Do Hate Him sorry. and i guess wen ruohan. i think that’s it.

good. GOD this is clocking in at //checks notes -- just over 5k. 8′D *stuffs some weeds into my mouth like the clown i am*

(ko-fi? :’D *lies down*)

[dongsichenged]

hi everyone, there's been a lot of false information and missing information going around regarding the lucas situation. in this post, i'm going to be summarizing and translating the accusations against him. this isn't to assign blame or to say if the accusations are truthful or not, but i see a lot of people with inaccurate information

there were three girls who came out with statements against him. details on each under the cut:

op 1, korean, posted on twitter 8/23

this was the account that was swiftly debunked. if you see any posts with a photoshopped plane selfie, edited bubble voice messages, hotel dates that don't line up, or a picture of lucas's trinity ring, this is what those are referring to

link to translation thread here - i don't speak korean so i can't directly verify

summary: op said that after they broke up, lucas would ask her to buy him cigarettes and designer gifts as well as rent hotel rooms for him. she also claims that he gaslit her and cheated on her

op 2, chinese, posted on weibo 8/24, this isn't a direct translation of the entire post and chat conversations, but rather some highlights

she was a fan since summer of 2019. she first met him on december 2nd, 2019 at a beijing fansign. she left her weibo username in a letter to him and in the early hours of december 3rd (the night of the fansign), she got a DM from him

in this DM, he asked her to go to the hotel and meet up with him. at 3am, she went to the hotel room. he told OP that he gets a lot of letters, but only opened OP's and that he noticed her at previous fansigns and would keep the things she gave him.

she said it was her first time in this situation and he said it was also his first time

op asked him if he had DMed any other fans and he said there was only one other from china, but he didn't find them attractive so they only had a meal together

they hooked up, then he told her not to tell anybody and to delete the chat messages. he suggested that they could meet up again, but not to come to the airport because he's tired at the airport and never thinks the fans that meet him at the airport are attractive

OP went to a bangkok fansign but they didn't meet up. they did call each other, and lucas said that he had a bad predebut relationship so even though he liked OP, he didn't want to talk about being in a relationship

the next time was at a shenyang fansign, OP couldn't visit him because she was sick in her hotel room with a fever, but her friend said that he was contacting another chinese fan. after the event, he came to find her

(tw - unprotected sex) that time, they had unprotected sex. she asked him to put on a condom, but he refused to. he said that he hadn't had sex in almost a year. she asked him about the other chinese fan he contacted and he said that this was the fan from before that he had a meal with but didn't find attractive. he was scared that the company would find out and smoked an entire pack of cigarettes in 2 hours

(tw - mention of kris wu) he also told OP that as a trainee he'd go out and party a lot, but he thought people like kris wu were silly and were just in the company to play and never trained.

he said on his show in korea where he pretended to be a soldier, he felt it was too tiring and pretended to have back pain to leave the filming sooner. he complained that chinese variety shows edited him to make him look dumb, so kept hesitating to join the next season.

before leaving to go overseas in feb 2020, he asked OP to just be friends, which she later found out to be his usual excuse.

if not for the first OP, she would have totally believed everything he told her, but now she realizes that she was played a fool

bonus about your fave - he uses secret weibo accounts to vote for himself in popularity polls

op 3, chinese, posted on weibo 8/24. this isn't a direct translation of the entire post and chat conversation, but rather some highlights

OP originally didn't want to come out with this, but after yesterday's posts, realized that she wasn't alone in her experiences with him and other girls had gone through the same things

he would badmouth and make up rumors about other girls just to appease the girl he's with

they first met at his schedule when she airdropped him a reaction image for fun.

he said he wanted to meet up somewhere alone with her. she asked if he had a girlfriend and he said no. she went to pick him up at his hotel and took him back to her house. the first thing he did was start smoking and then drinking.

lucas said that his best friend from trainee days was useless and that his group members don't listen to instructions, don't try hard, and don't practice. he said that one member stole a (modeling/fashion) opportunity from under his nose and that some people don't have any talent but still debut because of their face. he said he didn't like filming Keep Running because his industry seniors gave him a lot of pressure

he also started talking about his family's economic status and that his dad's investments failed. OP thought he was hardworking at first, but then realized that he was just making her feel sorry for him to pick her up

they would frequently see each other at her place, then she would call a car to send him back before his schedule the next morning

he would claim that he didn't bring enough clothes and tell OP to buy clothes for him and bring it to him. he always asked for saint laurent or balenciaga and that he didn't like burberry (the brand that he's an ambassador for)

afterwards, he would make up excuses not to meet. at the time she thought he was worried for her studies but now she realizes that he was actually seeing other people

he would ask if she had her own house and if she lived alone, etc. after confirming that she had a roommate, he stopped responding to her messages

in december, he used the excuse of being too busy as well as saying that they're friends and using that friendship to convince her not to expose anything when his group member was exposed to be contacting fans (t/n: i don't know what she's referring to here)

during the time they were meeting up, she repeatedly asked him if he had a girlfriend or was in contact with other girls. he always said no. he also claimed he never drank with another girl. at the time, she was naive and believed him, thinking that he was just looking for love. she didn't think that he would use his celebrity status and his fans' affection to fulfill his own needs, deceive others, flirting with others when he had a girlfriend

[onceupona-chaos]

Cassian and Azriel's reactions to the Archeron sisters

Everything will be supported by the text. English is not my first language, so sorry for any possible mistakes. Be kind and respectful!

I will begin this post with the scene that was the starting point of my thoughts.

The two Illyrians paused their inspection of me long enough to note my sisters finishing up breakfast, Nesta in a pale gray gown that brought out the steel in her eyes, Elain in dusty pink.

Both males went a bit still. But Azriel sketched a bow—while Cassian stalked for the dining table, reached right over Nesta’s shoulder, and grabbed a muffin from its little basket.

Very often Azriel and Cassian show the same reaction to the sisters (in this case, they go still). The scene above is a perfect example of that and of how SJM is always very faithful to the differences between the couples: there's a difference of personality, which will be the one I'll focus here, and of "romantic status". Differently from Nessian, Elain and Azriel were in love with different people when they met each other. We don't know what was their first impression of each other yet, but with this in mind and considering their personalities, makes sense that they needed to get close first, trust each other, and then develop feelings (SJM writes slow burns after all).

Cassian was sizing up Nesta, a gleam in his eyes that I could only interpret as a warrior finding himself faced with a new, interesting opponent.

“I can imagine,” Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare. But Azriel’s attention was on my sister, a polite, bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit.

In their very first meet, the males were paying attention to each Archeron, but the way they were focusing on them is different. Look at the wording:

sizing up, warrior, opponent;

attention, polite smile;

While Cassian and Nesta "size each other up like opponents" and are loud/rough in terms of personality, Azriel and Elain are both quieter and acting like peacemakers. Here, please remember Feyre noticing how their personalities are similar:

Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.

Basically while Cassian is always provoking Nesta, Azriel puts Elain at ease, because there's a difference of personality. It makes perfect sense that one of them is "enemies-to-lovers" and the other is "friends-to-lovers". Let's go back to the first scene:

“I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand. Nesta monitored him like a hawk, but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went. Cassian finished the muffin, licking his fingers. I could have sworn Nesta watched the entire thing with a sidelong glance. He grinned at her as if he knew it, too. “Ready for some flying, Nes?” “Don’t call me that.” The wrong thing to say, from the way Cassian’s eyes lit up.

Even though Cassian and Azriel's first instinct is the same (they go still), how they proceed is again different (Azriel extends his hand like a gentleman and Cassian is all cocky grins).

Cassian pressed one of his knives into Nesta’s hand. “Ash can kill you now,” he said with lethal quiet as she stared down at the blade. (...) “I told you to come to training,” Cassian said with a cocky grin, and strode off.

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.” (...) “It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.”

Just like Cassian, Azriel offered a blade to an Archeron sister so she could defend herself. Again, let's look at the wording:

Cassian pressed the one of his knives;

Azriel pressed the hilt of the legendary blade;

And again, Cassian: cocky, provokes Nesta; Azriel: softly, gently, puts Elain at ease. Of course, in the TT scene there's much more imagery (Light and Dark/ Death and the Fawn/ the fact that TT is not just one of Azriel's blades), but still both males have the same reaction when Nesta and Elain are about to face danger: they need to be able to defend themselves, so the males provide a blade.

From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

They were speaking, Azriel with some urgency, but Cassian didn’t hear him, heard nothing but the roaring in his head before he said to no one in particular, “I’m going after them.”

They also have the same reaction when the sisters are in danger. As I said before: their first reaction is very similar or even the same in some cases. The major difference here is that we have Cassian's PoV and not Azriel's, but the similarities are so clear:

Unspoken debate = said to no one in particular

I'm getting her back = I'm going after them

Firstly it seems the males are lost in thoughts, so concern about the females, and then they declare they're going to rescue them.

“Do you know,” Cassian drawled to her, “that the last time I got into a brawl in this house, I was kicked out for a month?” Nesta’s burning gaze slid to him, still outraged—but hinted with incredulity.

“What did you see,” Azriel said, and I tried not to flinch as I found him at my other side, not having seen him move. Again. Elain paused halfway up the stairs. Slowly, she turned to look back at him.

It is also very interesting to notice how Cassian and Azriel are the ones that can intervene when the females are "experiencing" their powers. It's like Nesta and Elain use them as some kind of anchor - they both are "lost" in their powers, but can focus on Cassian and Azriel. If Cassian can help Nesta do a scrying, it's Azriel who listen and gets that Elain is a Seer.

Now one of my favorite parallels:

“Are you … happy?” Shadows darkened his hazel eyes. “I’m getting there.” A halfhearted answer. (Cassian, ACOFAS)

Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn’t stop herself from touching his shoulder. (Azriel, ACOSF)

Exact same wording. In ACOFAS, Cassian was struggling with his situation with Nesta, and in ACSF it's Azriel who is suffering because of his situation with Elain.

Speaking of ACOFAS, let me highlight this moment:

Nightmares about the moment when Cassian was near death and Nesta was sprawled over him, shielding him from that killing blow, and Elain—Elain—had taken up Azriel’s dagger and killed the King of Hybern instead.

I just find very interesting how the two biggest moments between the couples are brought up here. SJM could had just said Elain killed the king with TT, but she chose to associate that moment with Azriel (she does that very often). Anyway, moving on...

Amren drained her wine and said to Cassian, “Nesta has a week. One more week to find the Trove with her own methods. Then we seek out other routes.” She threw a nod toward Azriel. “Including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the Trove, if she chooses to. Don’t underestimate her.”

Cassian and Azriel looked to Rhys, who merely sipped from his own wine.

Here, we have the males reacting to the females getting involve with the Trove (Azriel stiffened/ Cassian growled); then Amren speaks with Cassian about Nesta, and with Azriel about Elain; then both males look to Rhysand

And of course (I'll be brief because there are lots of posts about these lines):

Stupid, stupid, stupid— He didn’t care. Didn’t give a shit as she rose up on her toes, her mouth nearing his—

It was so wrong. He didn't care. He needed to know what her skin tasted like (...) Rhys's voice thundered through him, halting him mere inches from Elain's sweet mouth.

In both bonus chapters, Cassian and Azriel "don't care" about the possible problems and struggles, all they care about is the female before them. Not only the wording is the same, but in both cases the couples almost kiss.

That's the formula right there.

(Her scent) It hit him in the gut so hard he could barely focus, and it took five centuries of training to make himself meet her eyes rather than let his own roll back into his head.

Her arousal drifted up to him and his eyes nearly roll back into his head at sweet scent.

Basically the way these two are affected by the Archeron sisters is practically the same in both bonus chapters. Speaking of that:

I assumed seeing Nesta went about as poorly as could be imagined, because my lesson the following morning was longer and harder than it’d been in previous days. I’d asked what, exactly, Nesta had said to him to get under his skin so easily. But Cassian had only snarled and told me to mind my own business, and that my family was full of bossy, know-it-all females.

Three days passed with no word from Cassian. He’d been replaced in training by a stone-faced Azriel, who was more aloof than usual and wouldn’t even give her a smile.

Cassian in the next morning was still affected by what happened in Wings & Embers, and Azriel - three days later - was still affected by what happened in his bonus chapter. Not only that: these are the only direct references to the bonus chapters in the actual books. The major difference here is that SJM wrote Elain as Azriel's secret, so only the readers that have access to the bonus chapter know why he couldn't even smile (very similar to "Cassian only snarled"). Naturally there's a difference of personality, too: Cassian snarling, totally pissed off/ Azriel more aloof, stone-faced.

It's very clear the direction SJM is going.

[writingwithcolor]

Announcement: No Longer Answering Rubber Stamp Questions

Introduction

Here at Writing With Color, we’ve noticed a shift in the questions we are receiving. In the past, the majority of questions challenged the necessity of diversity in fiction or asked for assistance in making diversity seem more plausible in world-building. We also received many questions on how to describe and characterize people of color in respectful ways that didn’t demonize different races, ethnicities and religions.

By and large, we see that our followers understand why these concepts are important, and for that we congratulate you! This kind of progress takes real, long-term, internal work. Our team hopes that any advice or input you received from us over the years has helped you continue to develop as a writer. We hope you will continue to support us in the future and are especially pleased to hear from our non-white commenters who have let us know when our content has let them feel seen or heard.

However…

We have noticed a recent trend in asks that is discouraging. Many askers seem concerned with receiving our blanket approval of a particular concept or character. These asks often don’t provide us with the direction and context crucial to providing advice from a race or ethnicity-based perspective. Examples include:

“I’m writing a character from [insert background] who has [insert traits]. Is this ok?”

“I’m creating a world where I have made [insert concept] the basis of my world-building. Is this allowed?”

Hi, I’m a [insert identity]. Is it problematic to have [concept/ character] in my story?

“I’m creating a [Race A] character with [these] traits, a [Ethnicity 1] character with [those] traits, a [Race B] character with [some other traits] and a [sex/ gender minority] character with a [different set of traits]. Is this combination offensive?

We call these questions rubber stamp questions. If this describes your question, there’s no need to feel bad. We realize that there was never an explicit explanation of this concept. In addition, our team is mindful of the changing demographics of tumblr that might make it mean we are receiving questions from a younger user-base are not yet familiar with many of the principles we outline on this website. However, on that note…

What is Rubber Stamping?

Rubber stamping refers to the practice of seeking an endorsement without questioning or seeking to alter the status quo. The purpose of Writing With Color is to be a focal point for discussion about diversity in writing rather than simply prescribe a series of corrective measures. Without knowing the asker’s intent (Which we can’t, since we aren’t mind readers), our moderators are not in a position to provide you with carte blanche for your writing concept in the name of all other non-white people. Yes, we have a certain level of skill and expertise on many of these topics, but we are not here to take on the burden of all PoC to approve your writing choices. Nor would it be fair to other PoC if you took our response as a reason to dismiss the perspectives of other PoC (An unfortunately common phenomenon).  

Bluntly, on the moderator end, these asks are also incredibly frustrating because they are vague and thus:

Time consuming

Labor intensive (mentally and emotionally)

The last example from the previous section (AKA “Laundry lists”) is particularly time consuming because multiple moderators must collaborate to produce an answer that boils down to each moderator saying, “I guess it depends??? *shrug*” but in slightly different ways.

Perhaps the biggest problem with rubber stamp asks is they feel (to us) like they are more about the asker’s desire for closure/ approval/ virtue signaling than a willingness to participate in the kind of education and discussion on diversity we are trying to foster on this blog.

To that effect: We will no longer be answering such questions.

(If you sent in such ask before this goes up on November 15th, 2020, a moderator may reach out to you individually to better address your inquiry as submitted.)

However: Don’t worry! We also are here to teach you how to makes these questions better!

Fixing Rubber Stamp questions:

1. Be specific.

Instead of Can I/ May I, try “How can I” or “When can I” or “What can I”?

Thus instead of: “I’m Christian. May I create a Jewish character seeking to become an actress in 1920s Hollywood?” —> “How do I, as a Christian, create a compelling Jewish character while being mindful of the interplay between my own intrinsic bias and historical accounts of prominent Jewish figures in early Hollywood?”Or, instead of: “I want to write a story about a modern day piracy in the East Indian Ocean, but with magic. Is this problematic? —> “Given the continuation of modern day piracy in the East Indian Ocean, what are some tropes I should avoid if I decide to go with a modern fantasy set in this region?”

2. Remember: The goal is improved understanding, not approval. Sometimes, you really just want to know *why* you can’t use a particular concept, and that curiosity is good! Questions that ask “Why?” in good faith are often how you can learn a lot about your own intrinsic biases and the limits of your own knowledge.

Thus, instead of: If I write about [controversial topic], am I a bad person? —> Why is it better for someone like me to not write about [controversial topic]?

This approach has the bonus effect of making us feel like you actually care about what we think.

3. Write your question as a draft: Edit your ask at least once or twice to provide as much information as possible while being concise. I’ve told this to college students before, but I can tell when a person wrote their assignment by the quality of the writing. Writing done late at night, when sleep deprived and without at least one edit contains extraneous information while not having a clear point.

Going through your question (Preferably a day after you wrote it) will help you narrow down what you really want to know.

Remember: You all have free will and can write whatever you please. We presume that you seek WWC’s input because you wish to write on issues pertaining to people of color with greater levels of awareness. On a practical note, we recognize that social media, trolling, call-outs, doxxing and other dimensions of cyberbullying make writers online hesitant to do anything unless they think they have the majority of the public on their side. There are times when it is obvious that the asker is asking more because they need approval to feel less anxious when they share their work with others.

However, if the above is your worry, either you aren’t ready to write on this topic or you need to rethink the boundaries you set with the online communities/ individuals you interact with as well as how you manage your internet presence. With respect to personal anxieties when it comes to writing, morality, your conscience and so forth, we recommend turning to your own support systems IRL. As relative strangers on the internet, we are not well-qualified to allay personal concerns.

Remember: Writing with diversity is like training for a marathon. Give yourself permission to expand your comfort zone at the pace your research capabilities and experience allow!

We appreciate that you all trust us to provide helpful, well-thought out feedback for your ideas, and we also thank you for respecting our perspectives even if you may disagree. In the same vein, we request that you put the level of thought into your questions you think appropriate given that another human being is going to spend, at a minimum, several hours coming up with their response. We look forward to hearing from you! 

- The WWC Team

(A link to this article will be added to the pinned FAQ for everyone’s reference)

[whaleofatjme1920]

Seeing Him Smile and Kiss Someone Else (Hoodie X F!Reader)

[Hoodie/Brian Thomas X F!Reader]

[Warnings: none]

[AN: Howdy! I cross post these on quotev under ‘Elsie I Guess’ and on AO3 under ‘Whaletales1920′ under the title ‘The Places You Shouldn’t Be’. Just thought I’d start uploading them here too.]

Part 2

Proxies aren’t supposed to do a lot of things: speak back to their master, challenge hierarchical roles, have relationships with each other of that caliber, and never, never ever absolutely never have romantic relationships with humans. 

Why? It’s a losing game. Everyone knows that. Should proxies seek any kind of attachment, platonic, romantic, even sexual, their best bet is to stay within their own kind: other proxies. It’s the polite thing to do. It’s the right thing to do. 

When you first came in, you bonded almost immediately to your group of four other individuals. There’s Masky, your group leader. He’s really sweet when he wants to be and seems to care the most about you - it’s probably because you’re new. Toby is akin to the middle child. He’s always buzzing around you a lot like a bumblebee. While he has his jerk moments, he’s got an eye out for you. So too does Kate, once the group’s newbie/runt. She’s the one you replaced. She’s relatively quiet and sticks to herself, but she’s never a stranger to helping you out and immersing you in the culture and world you’ve found yourself entangled in. 

And then there’s Masky’s right hand, a proxy named Hoodie, but you know him as Brian. Out of all your group members, Brian was the hardest to warm up to. He hardly acknowledged you when you were first placed in his group and was amongst the hardest in the hazing process (you’re still technically going through). But, after some time and getting to know each other, the two of you became the closest of friends, even going so far as to rival Masky’s friendship with him. It’s safe to say you got a bit of a crush on him, in simplest terms. 

Three times. Three times you felt you liked him.

The first time was when you were about to head out of your safe house on a grocery run. Proxies don’t have any leads, so cards are absolutely off the table. You walked out of the safe house, yawning slightly, and barely made it down the driveway when Brian had popped back out of the house. 

“Reader,” he called out, slowly moving to lean in the doorway of the empty house the five of you were squatting in. 

“Yeah?” You asked sleepily. 

“Forgetting something?” He holds up his hand - it’s the wallet. 

You feel heat rush to your cheeks as you speed walked back to the front door to retrieve it. “Guess I’m still kinda tired,” you admittedly awkwardly with a small chuckle. 

Brian shrugged slightly and threw you a smirk as he met you halfway, “Think I’ll accompany you this morning,” he said with a wink. 

The two of you began to walk as you mentally mulled over the man walking beside you - his hands in his pockets. You’d never really thought of him like that before, but the way he smiled and that wink… It planted a seed. You weren’t quite sure you were going to acknowledge it or if it was just a fluke, but the thought stayed, and then it remained. 

As the two of you traversed the grocery store for various things your comrades had asked for, you and Brian traded conversation about everything that popped into mind. 

“Oh, like you knew any better in high school,” you wheezed before tossing in a box of brownies. You’d just been discussing how terrible and how gods awful high school relationships can be and how at one low point, you got into one. Brian had said he knew better than to mess around in high school, but you had retorted that ‘we’re all young and dumb once.’ 

Brian raised a brow at the box but allowed it anyway. “I most certainly did and I knew how things were gonna play out before they even happened.” 

“On what basis? It’s not like you have future vision,” You snorted. You watched as he pushed the cart forward as you plucked items you needed from the shelves. 

He shot you a look. “I’m a guy, it’s practically flowing through our veins,,” he said as his eyes raked over the list. “I’d most likely be the reason those things are happening to begin with and knowing that is like it’s own future vision..” He flashed his smile at you. “Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever grew out of the dumb part,” he chuckled. 

Your heart skipped. 

The second time you thought you liked him was when you were in the car with him, heading back to your safe house (in an entirely different part of the country). The two of you were more than exhausted after clearing a house whose occupants the Operator wanted dead for one reason or another and Brian decided to steal a car. So, there you sat in the passenger seat. 

“Something on your mind?” He hummed, arm resting on the console. His hazel colored eyes flicked over to you with interest. 

You shrugged, “just thinking.”

“Dangerous for people like us,” Brian chuckled. “Care to get specific?” 

You sighed slightly and turned your eyes to the passing street lights overhead as the car pulled onto the late night expressway. “Thinking about all the things I’ll miss,” you admit. 

Brian nodded from the corner of your eye. “I think about that stuff too,” he said, a small frown pulling onto his face. “You were finishing up college?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “I mean, I guess I’m getting out of the college loan debt but… Y’know,” you trailed off slightly, your posture changing slightly. “Maybe I would’ve been normal. Get a cool job, live a non murderous life, have a family and a loving partner. I don’t know, like, whatever the American dream says we should have. Anything but this.” 

Brian laughed slightly, “sorry. It’s not - it’s not you,” he explained. “It’s just awfully similar to what I wanted.” 

You turned your attention from the passing lights over to Brian. “White picket fence is your thing?” 

“More or less,” he hummed. “Wanted to live the rest of my life like a normal person.

Certainly died like one, more or less,” he finished. 

You mentally hummed, already knowing what he was referring to. Died and got resurrected. “Don’t think falling from a floor up counts as normal.” 

“Hey, it worked out for…. Something nice,” he quickly chirped. “Fell and met an angel.” 

He briefly turned his head to look at you and flashed a grin. 

“Oh that’s so bad.” 

“You love it.” 

You really do.  

The third time was when the two of you were on the rooftop of some house you’d been spending a lot of time at. It was kind of nice to be able to settle down in one place for more than a month - it’d been going on close to a  year. It was your roof, the one you shared with Brian. Late in the night, when the crickets sang and the stars danced, the two of you snuck up against Masky’s best wishes to talk about the world and life before. 

When summer was giving way to autumn and sending cool breezes throughout the night, you and Brian had been up there once again. 

“You think EJ will be around?” You asked, looking up at the stars you barely knew the names to. “BEN did say he was in the area.” 

“Gonna say yes,” Brian hummed back, momentarily pausing to point out Altair. “He’s always had a soft spot for our group,” he noted. “Why? You looking forward to seeing him?” He chuckled, hand reaching out to ruffle your hair. 

You laugh as quietly as you can and shake your head, “we’ve hardly ever spoken!” You giggled. “I just think he’s cool.”

Brian snorted in response and nodded, “yeah, I think so too. Though, where’d you get the opportunity to talk with BEN?” 

“There’s a little computer cafe in town,” you said, eyes flicking towards the direction of said cafe. “I’ve been spending a lot of time there. Mostly to use the internet,” you admitted, a slight heat coming to your cheeks. Proxies really aren’t supposed to use the internet. “Toby also sometimes tags along.” 

“So that’s where he’s been getting those weird references from,” Brian said with a tone of understanding. “Next time you go, let me know. I’d love to see what you children are up to online,” he teased. 

You laughed again and nodded, “sure thing.” 

The two of you continued to talk before a particularly hard gust of wind came in. On instinct, you shivered - though you weren’t really cold. 

Upon seeing you shiver, Brian took no hesitation in taking off his hoodie, much to your chagrin. 

“Oh, you don’t have to-” you began as you attempted to push it towards him. 

“I insist,” he had said, already popping the thing over you. 

You relented and allowed the giant hoodie to envelop your form like a warm hug. It smelled just like him - something woodsy, smoke, and the faintest of graphite. When you looked back at Brian, he was staring up at the stars, a small smile on his face. His eyes did not leave the inky blueish-black, not even when your hand came within millimeters of holding his. 

All it took was three times. Three times to know you liked him, and once to know you’d lost him. 

As stated before, it is absolutely a losing game to get involved with humans. Humans are frail and prone to panic. They can’t understand the world the way you do, nor are they suited for life the way you are in their current form. In your society, humans are the lowest of the low, akin to cattle - albeit, sentient cattle. Only when they are lifted from their human status are they finally given the time of day. 

He never would have known about her if you never brought up that computer cafe. Truly, it was a mistake on your part. You didn’t mean to, but it had happened anyway. 

“Cute place, right?” You smiled, eyes traveling up and down the rows of tables. 

“The cutest,” Brian agreed with a small chuckle. “Do we go up to a counter and order or..?” He trailed off slightly as he inspected the place and took in all the minor details. 

“Just take a seat, a waiter will be around shortly,” you said, immediately pulling him to your preferred spot by the windows and tucked away into the corner. 

Brian followed your lead and took a seat next to you where he immediately powered on the computer. “It’s kinda weird that they let us have food this close to the electronics, no?” 

“Oh no, it’s super weird,” you nodded as you began flicking open tabs to get to the things you wanted - maybe say hi to BEN. “But, it works. So like, c’est la vie?” You giggled, fingers moving quickly across the keyboard. 

A few moments later, a waitress stopped by. You had already managed to pull up a chat with BEN and were so engrossed in catching up with him that you failed to notice her. You hadn’t even recognized she was there until you heard her giggling at something Brian had said. 

“Never thought I’d be that star struck,” Brian had finished the small anecdote with eyes that practically sparkled. 

Her smile only widened. “You? The star struck kind?” She teased lightly. “Have to see it to believe it.” 

Brian looked up at her, his lips now pulled up into a smile. “You’re looking at it right now.” 

It pulled you so hard out of your conversation with BEN that you’d accidentally sent him a half-baked thought. “Wait what?” 

Your sound of confusion had snapped the two back into reality. “Oh! I’m sorry, sugar,” the waitress apologized with a slight blush rising to her cheeks. “Was there something I could get you?” 

You blinked a few times, your eyes darting between the two before finally managing to stammer out your drink and pastry of choice. You watched as Brian’s eyes followed her out and when she came back in. 

Long after the two of you had finished, the two of you decided to head back. 

“That was fun,” you said. 

“It was,” Brian replied, thoughts drifting elsewhere. 

Ever since that moment, he’d been going to the café with and without you. Sometimes you’d find yourself heading there only to see him entranced in conversation with the waitress, and when that happened, you turned right back around. At first it was to give them space, and then it was to give yourself space. 

You wished you could allow yourself to weather through this one with grace and that it didn’t bother you, that it didn’t get on your nerves, but it did. Slowly but surely, it had chipped away at some odd part of you that you didn’t even know existed prior to. 

Masky was the first to bring it up. 

“Reader,” he began. “Can you wrangle Hood from that café? Operator wants us to do something - I just need him,” he said, barely looking up from his newspaper. 

“I can go if you want,” you suggested before poking your head back out from the refrigerator. 

“Hm?” That got Masky’s attention. “Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrow, giving you an inquisitorial look. 

“It’s no big deal,” you said with a small smile as you plucked your drink out from the fridge. “Besides, I think Hoodie’s busy.” You had to fight the unpleasant feeling that bubbled up in your chest after you said that. 

“Oh,” Masky gave a hum of recognition. “Toby did mention he was getting a little close to someone there,” he said in passing. 

You shot Masky a look. 

He shot one back. 

Internally, you both know that’s not the best thing - but Masky’s not going to stop his best friend. And you know you won’t either. 

Kate mentioned it next, though she seemed to be telling you that you’d get  over it. It came relatively out of the blue. See, the two of you were standing in the living room of a house painted in blood just chatting, waiting for the Operator to give you direction on what he wanted for the man he wanted alive when Kate got weirdly serious. She sat down on the sofa and invited you to sit down next to her. 

“You can’t keep avoiding him like that,” she hummed, her shoe digging into the man’s chest as he wriggled beneath her step. “I know it’s awkward, but he’s your comrade first.” 

You rolled your eyes and lightly pushed at her. “Come on, it’s not that serious,” you said, attempting to play off your feelings that were so gods damn obvious throughout the time you’ve been spending in this area. 

“Are you kidding me?” Kate chuckled. “Look,” her hand is on your shoulder as she digs her heel into the man’s chest, cracking his ribs slightly. “It’s uncomfortable. I get that. It’s why we don’t… Do that kind of thing.” She rubbed her thumb in little circles on your shoulder as she grounded you. “It’s probably for the best, even though you can’t see it right now.” 

You sighed and gave her a look of slight pain. “You’re probably right.” 

“I know I’m right.”

It’s not that Toby is bad at reading a room, but it’s that he’s really bad at reading a room. When the two of you went to the computer café for your outing, he was excited to see the girl Brian was ‘seeing,’ as he somehow managed to miss her from every other precious visit. It was so obvious that they had been - her perfume was practically embedded into his skin now - and his smile was brighter than the sun after seeing her. 

And here you were, not even wanting to know her name. 

It’s Fiona. 

“Toby!” She greeted as she bounded up to your table. “Reader! What a nice surprise!” There was no malice in her tone. She was genuinely happy to see you. “What can I get you two today?” 

“C-Chocolate croissant and some h-h-hot chocolate please,” Toby said. He then turned to you, and as if he read your mind, gave her your order as well. “H-How have t-things been?” He asked. 

“Really good,” Fiona replied. “He’s such a sweetie, got me this necklace.” 

Your eyes immediately left the screen and travelled to her neck. There it was. Beautiful necklace. Silver chain with a hunk of rose quartz at the bottom in the shape of a bullet.You remembered seeing that pendant. It hung on his mirror for such a long time. You once overheard him saying to Kate how it was your possible birthday gift. 

“It’s so pretty,” you smiled, eyes not quite following. 

You were damn certain if you were suffering from hanahaki you would’ve choked on flowers by now and died. The last nail in the coffin? 

Now. Right now. You came back to the safe house just wanting to relax, maybe star gaze for a bit and fall asleep outside - anything and everything sounded better than just being alone in your thoughts after the Operator had some harsh words to say to you on account of your performance slipping ever so slightly from his golden standards. You fix yourself a warm mug of tea and start making yourway to the rooftop. It’s the same path you’ve always taken: head up the stairs to the upper floor, last room on the left side of the hall, go in and open the study windows there and hang out on the roof. 

You make sure to take careful steps as you ascend, not wanting to spill any of your carefully made tea as you seek to unwind. With a deep breath, you start making it through the hallway, thankful no one else is here. Masky is away on business, Kate is doing something with Jeff and Toby left a few hours ago to meet with someone he deems important. Come to think of it, you haven’t had the house free in a while. 

But, as you step closer and closer to the last room on the left, you hear it. Giggling, whispers, conversation that’s so innocent and intimate at the same time. You notice the study door is closed. It’s never closer. You step closer. 

“You’re so sweet,” That’s Fiona’s voice. “You don’t have to get me all these things - I don’t even know where I’m gonna wear all of them.” She giggles. 

“Wear a different one every time I come to see you.” That’s Brian. “Gonna be burning through those things like crazy.” You hear the sound of a kiss. 

“You got a deal,” Fiona chuckled. Another kiss. 

You hear the roof shingles move slightly as they move closer together. Against your better judgment, you push open the study door slightly. Must you be so nosy?

There, sitting on the roof outside the window is Fiona and Brian. She’s wearing his sweater (it’s just polyester) and giggling as he peppers her face in kisses. When she’s decided he’s covered her in enough kisses for an entire year, she presses her lips to his. 

He smiles before kissing her back just as fervently. 

Without a sound, you begin to head back to your room. 

Perhaps tea in your room would be better.