#i have a whole mapped out little like. au i guess. of who rode what/what kind of horses they liked/etc

[unethicalexperiments]

Love the in depth horse analysis I trust and believe it

thank u :) it used to be my job so i have a lot of opinions on it

[imagineyouandharry]

Gypsophila (H.S)

Summary: Prince Harry has been under great pressure to find a wife, and he finds his Queen in a way far more unconventional than he could’ve imagined. 

Words: 5,730

Warnings: It’s a bit strange I guess? Idk lol.

A/N: Someone requested a Prince!Harry au forever ago, and then I didn’t really have an opportunity to write for a while, and then this idea sprung up on me and I’ve been lost in this little au for the past few days. It’s like a little twisted fairytale, taking inspiration from Snow White and Sleeping Beauty mostly. Part two is already a work in progress. If people are interested I’ll even put out a little sort of world building lore post with a map of the kingdom etc (I’ve been in DEEP). This part is a bit choppy and barely edited because I was just so eager to write it and get something out, but I would really appreciate any constructive criticism and editing notes! TYSM!! Long story short, enjoy!!!

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Harry Edward Styles did not believe in true love, in fact, he thought it was the most ridiculous idea ever. Harry’s certain he’s laid eyes upon every eligible young lady, from his kingdom and the ones surrounding, and he hadn’t felt a single thing when looking at any of them. He prayed every night that he would find his love the next day, and finally be able to put his parents out of their misery and ascend to the throne. At the age of 27, Harry’s the oldest person in his family to not be married, no one every waited this long in the royal family. He would’ve had an arranged marriage at 21, though when his parents suggested that he ran away on a sailing ship for two months. One thing was clear to him: though he may not have experienced love yet, he wasn’t going to ruin his chances at true by being forced into a loveless marriage. It wasn’t only Harry’s parents, but the entire kingdom that woke each day hoping to hear that their Prince had found his Queen. They referred to Harry as the Good Prince, his subjects adored him, and lived for his acts of charity and selflessness, and they only hoped he would find a Queen that would treat them the same.

Harry’s outlook on love changed however, after his most recent hunting trip. Sundays are for family and hunting, that’s what Harry was always told. No day was for Harry, he’d come to learn that. Living under a microscope meant for very little alone time, and almost no guilt-free alone time. He and his hunting party rode across the fields and out to the dense forest surrounding the kingdom, and over the two hour journey Harry found himself agitated with the topics of conversation going on around him. He wanted a break, tired of everyone only ever speaking about royal duties or politics. Harry had discovered a fresh water lake if he went off the trail, and when he realised they were edging closer to his favourite place he decided to excuse himself with the excuse of needing to fill his canteen.

The natural spring was a hidden treasure indeed. Harry’s entire kingdom was cut off from the rest of the world due to the thick forestland surrounding it. There was only one trail in, and one trail out, and even then only experienced riders were able to make the journey. The end of the trail, in the deep of the forest, was also often lined with thieves and outcasts making it not the safest journey. This spring wasn’t necessarily hard to find, however thick trees that lined the main trail hid the spring, the gorgeous wild flowers, and clearing of soft grass either side. Harry tied his horse to his usual tree, softly parting the bushes careful to not cause any permanent damage, and stepped his way through. His kingdom was full of hidden treasures like this, tucked away in places only to be found by those adventurous enough.

The sound of the running water was most prominent, however the closer he walked to the spring, the more he could hear a faint, delicate singing voice. Harry couldn’t recognise the song, but it was one he’d never forget now. It felt as though his heart dropped in his stomach, and he had to lightly scratch his arm on a branch to double check he hasn’t died and was hearing an angel of heaven sing to him. He walked closer, with quiet footsteps so not to disturb the singing. He knelt down to the edge of the spring and began to fill his canteen, looking around his eyes eventually focused on the source of his siren, standing in the clearing over the other side of the spring as she picked a bouquet of dainty flowers. Lavender, daisies, bellflowers, poppies. Her body was dressed in sage green, the simple dress showed she definitely was not from a wealthy family, but it was simple and beautiful in its own way. Perhaps she sewed it herself, it did look as if it were made for her. He could see her hair shine from here, and the features of her side profile were striking him even from a distance. She didn’t look real. The strange girl across the spring looked ethereal, like her beauty was too surreal for this planet. Had he hit his head? Was he seeing a forest fairy? He hadn’t even realised the staggering increase in his heart rate as he watched the girl, and listened.

He lost track of how long he had been watching her for, snapped out of his daydream when he heard a “Your Royal Highness! We must be getting on!” Harry heard shouting at him from a distance, most likely back where he had tied his horse. The girl had heard the faint noise and her eyes shot in Harry’s direction. His cheeks flushed with heat as their eyes met only for a brief second, before she ran away. The eye contact brought a slight curve to his lips, although she was leaving, at least he got another good look at her.

“Wait!” He called as he stood up, his hand and canteen dripping wet. His eyes softened as she simply left, looking back briefly in her stride, but he’d blown it. “God fucking damn it.” He cursed under his breath as he began to trudge back to his horse, his feet weighing heavy on the ground.

That was the most he’d ever felt, looking at the stranger across the lake singing as if it were for him, and he couldn’t help but feel like he’d just lost his future Queen. Half of him wanted to wade through the water and run after her, but Harry wasn’t a often disobedient Prince, when one of his parents or advisors told him to jump, his usual response would be “how high?” It’s ironic how for someone who’s whole life depends on finding his future Queen is given so little time to actually explore a social life, or love life himself. He was always set up with suitors who his parents found best. In the rare times he’s able to sneak away he’d gotten around, and most definitely wasn’t a virgin, but he’d never found a girl who had made him feel the way he wanted to feel about his future queen. He only wanted to please his family, and his realm, but this was the one thing where he refused to compromise.

Y/N was as far away from a future queen as it could come, or at least that’s what her step-mother wanted everyone to think. The entire town hoped to marry their daughters off to the elusive Good Prince Harry, however her step-mother only wanted her biological daughters to have that chance. When Y/N’s father passed away her step-mother sent her out to live as a recluse in a tiny cottage in the woods, she had always feared that her beauty would distract future husbands away from her actual daughters, and didn’t want to ruin their chance of being married. Each Sunday she drops Y/N off the supplies she needs, but that was the only human contact she was given. It wasn’t too bad, she managed to keep herself busy with sewing, baking, or whatever other art or craft she could think of and had the materials for. It was lonely though, and she was ultimately alone.

Well, if you don’t count forest fairies. Y/N hated being outcast into the forest, and spent most of her early months in the cottage crying to whatever wild animal she could find that day that would stick around long enough. Eventually, these wild animals started bringing their fairy friends along with them. They would spend their days with Y/N tending to fruit and vegetable gardens, watering plants, having picnics, and making daisy chains. Her life was simple, and although not one she asked, it was one she was growing fond of. Male company was something she could only imagine and long for, or read about in story books. There were dozens of fairies living in the forest, but she’d become particularly close to a group of some of the female fairies.

Each Sunday before her step mother visits, Y/N will pick her step mother a bouquet of flowers in attempt to win her over, in hopes maybe one day her sweetness will earn her way back into town. Y/N had total obliviousness towards her step mother’s plan, and towards what was going on in the city. This year, any woman over the age of 21 was to present herself to the Prince. Y/N’s 21st birthday fell on the day she was scheduled to be presented to the Prince. The letter had been delivered shortly before she was sent away to the forest, Y/N never laid her eyes upon it though. The letter outlined the royal guard would be coming to collect anyone who failed to present themselves on the day, and to Y/N’s step mother that meant the only option was to make it so Y/N never turned 21, or made it to her birthday for that matter.

Seeing the Prince most definitely did spook Y/N during that day in the field, if her step mother ever found out she’d had contact with a male there was no chance she’d ever be allowed to move back home. She did all she could think to do. She ran. She ran so fast that the petals of the flowers she had picked were ruined in her haste, quickly shutting herself inside the cottage to gather herself before her routine afternoon visit from her step mother. Sure she knew of men to be dangerous and terrible, but she feared her step-mother’s wrath more than anything any man could put her through.

Like any other Sunday, she scrubbed the house and dressed herself in whatever new garment she had stitched herself this week. The fairies had been busy this week and she’d had a great deal of time to herself, embroidering colourful flowers into the soft white linen of the new dress she had made. Her step-mother would bring her fabric and thread to sew dresses for her step sisters. It was something to be proud of, but most likely would be over looked. Little was said upon her step-mother’s arrival, but her character seemed off. Her step-mother’s eyes darted around, checking windows as she insisted on making the two of them tea. Y/N sat down at the small dining table, recounting tales of her week, ensuring to leave out anything about fairies or a boy. She watched a small bunny outside the window, forgetting to speak as awe overwhelmed her whilst she watched its tiny nose twitch. Her daydream came to an end when the sound of the ceramic mug hit the hard wood of the coffee table. “Drink while it’s warm, my love.” Her step-mother told her, sitting down in the seat at the head of the table beside Y/N. It wasn’t long after that that Y/N hit the floor, and her step-mother was shrouding herself in a hooded coat and sneaking out of the tiny cabin.

Elsie, a fairy most close to Y/N, who specialises in healing, came to the conclusion that she was only out for about six hours before the fairies found her. They did all they could over the following weeks to bring her back to life, trying as many possible rituals, potions, and spells to give life to her body once more. Nothing was of use though, and instead they decided to preserve her in a glass case in the clearing amongst the wildflowers. She had professed to them that the clearing by the spring had been her favourite place, so they saw this fit. Preserving her in the glass case was simply because the idea of her beauty decaying away made any of the fairies shriek. Fairies never communicated with humans, however Y/N was different. Elsie had always theorised that Y/N had magic in her blood. Amongst the many spells and rituals they tried to bring Y/N back, they threw in a spell that would hopefully bring her back with true love’s kiss. It was like a safety net, or a ‘what if?’ But they eventually tired and wore out, preserving her was well enough for now. They kept her dressed in the new dress she had crafted for herself, it was so beautiful after all. They had placed tiny baby’s breath flowers throughout her hair, and made sure everything was perfect. They even went as far to adorn her in delicate gold jewellery, with beautiful crystals of all colours. Her body rested upon a large rectangular slab of rose quartz.

****

Harry was dreading sitting in the throne room, while all the eligible females from the town were presented to him like livestock. It made him sick, and left a terrible taste in his mouth. All he could think of was the girl from the clearing. Is she a sign? Is he his ticket out of here? Was seeing her fate? Questions like that simmered over his mind and kept him awake at night, he had been sleeping little and finding it hard to focus on his duties. His best friend Niall was he closest confidant, the only one he had told about the beautiful girl in the clearing that day. Niall cared more for Harry than anyone, really. He didn’t just care about his fame or power or wealth, Harry was his best friend and he hated seeing his best mate so down about his love life and the pressure to marry a woman he doesn’t love. He made it his mission to find the woman, and his detective work lead him down a path he didn’t expect at all. First he went to the clearing where Harry filled his water in the spring, that was where he first noticed something over the other side of the spring that he couldn’t quite make out. He followed the spring and found an area narrow enough to cross, making his way to the structure he’d seen earlier. He didn’t know what to make of this discover, a dead girl in a glass coffin. ‘Forever at rest, only to be woken by true love’s kiss’ read an inscription on a gold plaque. He really didn’t know what to make of this. He didn’t know what to tell Harry.

Sweat lingered Niall’s brow as he made his way back to the castle to find Harry, to tell him of his discovery. “Look… I just need you to come with me and tell me what you think when we’re there.” Niall tells him, his voice somewhat breathless. Niall himself was still in disbelief, shock, his eyes wide as he shook his head. “I just- I don’t know what to tell you. You need to see it for yourself.” He adds.

Harry nods. “I’ll come immediately.” Harry tells him, his trust for Niall outweighing anything else going on in his head. Together they rode to the forest, crossed the narrow part of the spring, and towards where Niall had discovered Y/N.

“Is this the girl you were talking about?” Niall asks, however when he looks from the girl to Harry, he knows the answer. Harry couldn’t help but fall to his knees, pressing his palms against the glass as he looked inside. He noticed how long her eyelashes looked, and the freckles on her nose. His nose was almost touching the glass as he leant here on his knees at the side of her, taking her in up close.

“What happened to you?” He whispers, his eyebrows knitting together. Niall gives him a moment before he decides to mention the plaque at the foot of the structure.

“It uh, says something weird about being awoken by true love’s kiss. I don’t know if it’s true, and it’s revolting to think you would kiss a dead body for nothing, but someone has put her here. Someone made this. My grandmother in her old age would mutter stories about forest fairies and their magic… It just makes you wonder, you know?” He ponders, his eyes wandering away. It felt silly to bring up magic, it was something very commonly dismissed.

“Help me get this off.” Harry said as he brought himself from the ground, the soft grass had left green stains on his tan riding pants. He pushed the sleeves of his white linen button down up past his elbows, and the two men carefully lift the heavy glass case up off of the rose quartz Y/N had been resting on. It wasn’t easy, and the glass at the bottom dug into Harry’s fingers before they set the glass piece of the structure down on to the grass. “Alright. Here we go.” Harry said, in attempt to psych himself up for kissing a dead girl. She didn’t look dead though, just sleeping, you could only tell she was dead due to the missing rising and fall in her chest with her breath. “I might start walking back to the horses, give you some privacy.” Niall said, giving him a slight smile. He also didn’t really want to witness someone kiss a dead person, if she didn’t end up waking up.

“Good luck. Take your time.” He adds, part of him had no doubt it was going to work though. The stories his grandmother would tell him of the forest fairies were something he’d always held on to, those stories were amongst his most treasured memories. He’d always had some hope.

Harry waited until he could no longer hear Niall’s footsteps before he leant down close to Y/N, brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear. He took a moment, if this never worked it was going to be the last time he’d ever see her. He couldn’t fathom coming back to this spot if this didn’t work. His heart began to ache at the thought, it made his chest feel tight, and gave him the urge to rub at the spot.

“I really hope you’re who I think you are.” He whispers as he looks down at her. “This might seem like absolute madness. I don’t even know your name, but if you wake up for me, I swear to you I will be yours forever.” He began, to Harry this almost did feel like a ritual, it felt special, and the words he was speaking were amongst the most genuine he’d ever given life to. “I promise, I will protect you. I will provide for you. I will love you. I will never, ever harm you. I will love you until my very last breath, I just need you to do this one thing for me.” His voice was barely a whisper now, and breaking as hot tears welled in his eyes. He very carefully leant down, pressing his warm, puffy lips against her cold, smooth ones. He didn’t know how long to wait, but it didn’t feel wrong. It was a sweet, tender kiss. His eyes closed, and he felt at peace. It felt more than at peace. The long grass, wildflowers, and tree branches that surrounded them began to stir with wind, petals floating up into the gusts that took them. This girl had a tendency to make him feel like he’s dead and in heaven. Her lips slowly began to warm, and skin began to glow with heat. It felt like they were floating, as if the universe was made up of just the two of them. The flowers beneath him began to grow taller and more dense, and it began to feel like his heart was pulling towards hers. It felt like a tether had been formed, connecting their energy, he could feel as her heart began to pump blood again, and her energy radiate from her skin. It felt too surreal.

Slowly, Harry removed his lips to allow Y/N to breathe. He let a hand lay gently resting on her cheek as he watched her gasp for her first new breath, eyes shooting open as she looked up at him. It wasn’t shock she was met with when her eyes met Harry’s, but peace. The luminous green eyes that were gazing down upon her were like lighthouses, guiding her towards safety. So many questions began to race her mind as she came to reality, unable to decide which one to ask first. As if based on intuition, Harry decided to speak. “I uh- I’m not too sure what happened to you but my friend found you here today and brought me to you. I believe I saw you a few weeks ago, in the same spot. I’m not sure how long you’ve been out here, but there was this little plaque at the end of this thing here, that said something about a kiss to wake you up… I’m sorry for kissing you without your consent, but I couldn’t risk not taking this chance.” He didn’t mean to ramble or to overwhelm her with his spiel, but he was overwhelmed himself with everything that had just gone on. True love’s kiss. His queen. His true love. The other half of his soul, in human form. Y/N’s lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out. She closed them once more as she sat up and looked around, swinging her legs off the side of the marble before looking back up to Harry. Her movement had disconnected his hand from her face, and they both longed for each other’s touch once more already. Her eyes began to well with tears as she began to think about how she got here, her last memories.

“I can only assume how overwhelming this must all be for you… We can stay here as long as you need, it’s just us. When you feel ready for it, I can take you back to my home and we can get you showered and fed. I don’t mean you any harm.” Harry doesn’t even need to add that last sentence though, because she can feel it. She can feel his love for her, she could almost hear it if she listened closely enough, as if his heart was now beating a song for her.

Harry stood back, as if to give the doe eyed girl some space. She looked at him as if he was the most precious treasure on Earth, he’d never felt so overwhelmed with love. This was followed by her delicate hands reaching out, taking ahold of his as she brought herself to stand in front of him. “Is it alright if you hold me for a second?” She asked softly, needing time to process things.

It had been so long since she had been touched affectionately, she couldn’t really remember it. Her father was never affectionate, nor her step mother or step sisters or anyone else she’d met. She felt comfortable with the stranger in front of her though, and didn’t have the energy to resist the magnet like force pulling her towards him.

“Of course.” He responds, his voice soft as he wraps his arms gently around her frame, pulling her into his warm figure. Harry was like the perfect, giant teddy bear… but he wasn’t really that soft. Pressed against him she could feel how chiseled his features are. Her arms wrapped around his waist as she relaxed into him, cheek against the skin of his chest kindly revealed by the first few buttons of his shirt being undone. “What’s your name?” He asks, tangling his fingers in her hair to lightly rub his fingertips against the tender skin at the back of her neck.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Yours?” She asks, looking up to the tall, broad man.

“Harry.” He decides on leaving out his royal title or last name.

“Just Harry?” She asks, her eyebrows raising.

“For now. We have plenty of time to talk about me later.” He notes, removing the same rogue strand of hair as before from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. It was almost as if her hair had a life of its own, breathing, like the other flora growing in the forest. He had noticed the baby’s breath in her hair, though her hair moved, they remained in the same places, as if growing out of their place on the strand of hair. “What do you last remember?” He asks, needing to know if whatever put her in eternal sleep had been by accident, or as an act of malice. She looks back away from his face, resting her cheek once more against his chest.

“My step-mother, Styephania came over, she made me tea. That’s all I can really remember.” She said, unable to stop the disappointed sigh from escaping her lips. Maybe she’d had a freak health accident, like a stroke. Just because she’d been mistreated by her step mother her whole life, didn’t mean she was capable of murder. She knew her step mother didn’t put her out here though, this was the work of fairies. They were looking on, hiding in the bushes as they stood witness to young love blossom in front of them, not wanting to disturb the two of them. “I look crazy, and it sounds crazier saying this, but I’m certain the forest fairies are responsible for looking after me and putting me here. The day she came over was the day I think you saw me here, and I’m not sure how I’m meant to feel but I don’t feel like I’ve been a dead body since then. I feel like no time has passed at all.” Harry avidly listened to her speak, her voice like caramel, seeping in his ears and warming his whole body. Harry wasn’t phased by her mentioning fairies, Niall had suspecting this being their work earlier. It was the only explanation Harry could think of. He couldn’t understand why her step mother would leave her here, why she wouldn’t find her help.

He didn’t want to worry his sweet girl now, he wanted to make sure she felt alright, safe, and cared for. His grip on her wasn’t too tight, but firm in a comforting way. “The plaque… It mentioned how you���d only be woken by true love’s kiss.” He figured the longer he waited to tell her the stranger it would be. His cheeks were red, as if embarrassed or ashamed to tell her about the plaque, how strange it all was. Her eyes met his, and the connection gave him whiplash. He couldn’t peel his eyes away, getting lost in the little pools. He wanted to know everything about her, what she liked, disliked, what she ate for breakfast, her favourite songs, flowers, secrets. Everything.

“I don’t know if I know what love feels like. The only men I’ve spoken to are all twice my age. I wasn’t really allowed to see boys. You’re definitely much, much more beautiful than I would’ve imagined a man to be, and I’m certain that my heart is literally beating for you now, since you woke me.” She tells him, the descriptions of heroes in stories she would read, or how she would imagine the older men to look when they were younger, were incomparable to Harry. The compliment made his cheeks flush. With each beat of her heart, it was as if it was pulling her closer to Harry, calling out for him, begging for him to love on her and soothe the ache in her chest.

“How has God made something so sweet?” He mumbles, he hadn’t even realised he’d said it out loud at first. “You’re breath taking. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, and trust me when I say I’ve seen a lot of them. Even from far away, the first time I saw you… You make me nervous. You make my heart race, and my palms sweat, and I get butterflies in my stomach and nervous when I think about saying the wrong thing or not having you like me. It’s as if you’ve been carved by God himself, like he was showing off when he made you so beautiful. I wish I’d met you sooner.” Those last words burn his throat, how easier the last few years would have been if he had just been able to find her sooner.

*****

Harry sent Niall back to the castle first, having him instruct everyone to clear out the path that the Prince and his soon to be queen would take to his suite, he didn’t want to spook her with people around. The guards had to stay though, non-negotiable. He also had Niall ensure the doctor was on standby, just to check on Y/N and stay in the castle over the upcoming weeks in case anything else happened. Security was going to be increased, and tightened, and a warrant put out for her step mother.

The two hour horseback ride to the castle would give them well enough time to get to know each other, Harry and Niall had also switched horses, Niall’s being the slower of the two. “I don’t want to startle you when we get there. I also don’t know how to really tell you this. I’m in the royal family, so the guards and whatnot are something to just be ignored. They’re for your protection. I don’t know if you heard much of what I was telling Niall earlier, but you’re going to be very safe here, and we’ll find out what happened. I’ll look after you, I promise.” His eyes are ahead as he speaks, looking over the vast green fields ahead of them once they eventually emerged from the forest.

“Still just Harry, to me.” She reassured, sensing his nerves about revealing this information to her. His shoulders relaxed at her reaction, and a smile formed on his lips when his mind began to wander into what their future may be like. His queen.

“Hey, one day that’ll be King Harry to you.” He joked, thankful that it was received with a laugh. Her laughter was almost as sweet as her songs, and for the rest of the journey he made it his mission to mine as many possible laughs out of her as he could, like little nuggets of treasure. After making their way through the fields that lined the forest, they went down a long road that served as a divide between two of the castle’s towns, and at the end of that road just past a small valley of mountains was a sight far more glorious than Y/N had imagined. Her village was a small village that contained mostly candlemakers and dressmakers, and it sat further to the east, people only ever going out there to purchase fine candles and clothing. It was niche though, and not many could afford the fineries the master crafters in her village would create. Y/N hadn’t even really seen a home larger than a cottage, Harry’s castle looked large enough as if it could contain its own little world, a complete wilderness of towers surrounded by fine gardens, protected by a large moat with a standalone drawbridge. Harry didn’t even need to announce himself, the drawbridge was already in the process of being lowered for him.

“I had Niall clear our path, I don’t want to overwhelm you. I’ll introduce you to everyone when you’re ready.” Harry reassures her, she hadn’t even thought of anyone else though, too in awe of the sights around her. Flowers she’d never seen before laced these gardens, with fine marble sculptures and fountains protruding from them.

“I can’t believe this is your home.” Y/N whispers, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Your home too, if you’d like.” Harry replies, though his words immediately shrouded him with nerves about rushing Y/N into anything. It was stupid, they were each other’s true love’s, but it felt wrong being strangers, so Harry tried his best to conceal things. He’d never been in a conventional relationship before, never mind whatever this arrangement is or was going to be. He just knew he wasn’t meant to rush things, so he tried to refrain from expressing his feelings as best as he could. Her arms around his waist tightened, Y/N needing to feel as close to Harry as possible. He held the reins in one hand, the other arm resting over hers around his stomach, holding on to her arm to make sure she couldn’t let go.

“I’d like that.” Y/N reassures, gently rubbing his side to soothe him. Harry was too caught up in his own feelings to pay attention to how calm Y/N was. She could feel his anxiety though, and continued to try to soothe him as best she could. Y/N knew very little about Harry so far, but what she did know was that he was kind, caring, and had a lot of worries. She’d never been a worrisome person, and if anything would even refer to herself as naive, it was something she’d always been almost ashamed of but in this moment felt like maybe she’d been made to be by Harry’s side. Y/N liked the idea of spending her days being Harry’s rock, a voice of reason. She’d rather a man like this than one who had no emotions, that was for sure. It could’ve been whatever was now eternally bonding them, but she swears she was feeling his emotions, able to see his aura if she really studied hard enough. She sunk into him some more, her arms around his waist, cheek resting against his back. Harry made sure to take it extra slow, giving his love enough time to appreciate the flowers. She seemed to like flowers, and his mother took pride in this being the most beautiful garden amongst all of the kingdoms. He couldn’t wait to show her all the fineries that came with his life.

[sundiscus]

wangxian dragon age au: ficlet

[part of a larger au i’ve mapped out + started drafting, but want to post as snippets for now! i’ve taken many liberties with the worldbuilding, and as such i think most can be inferred with context if you’re unfamiliar with dragon age.

part one now here

this snippet: the meet-ugly, ~1.7k]

✨✨✨

When Lan Wangji wakes up, he isn’t alone.

He doesn’t realize it right away. The first thing he notices is that, this time, there are no shackles. He shifts his hands the slightest bit, enough to confirm they are indeed free. The movement pulls at the little cuts on his fingers and forearms from where the shackles shattered apart, already scabbing over—so he has been unconscious long enough for the magebane to burn out of his system, which he confirms, finding his meridians free and clear. He’s lying on his back, something that feels slightly too soft to be a stone floor under him and something that feels slightly too rough to be a blanket draped over him. An odd green light pulses against his eyelids and the only sound is a muted, continuous hiss, like a distant waterfall. Wherever he is, it isn’t the cell from earlier.

It doesn’t matter. He won’t be here long.

He takes one more slow breath, listening closely. There. To his left, a few paces away, he hears a tiny, cut-off inhale. Now he knows where to aim. His eyes fly open as he launches himself upright, summoning his sword into his raised hand, and—

It’s like expecting the ocean and finding only a puddle. His sword flickers into existence for the barest moment, its glow illuminating a circle of stone walls, a pallet beneath him, and then Lan Wangji’s lungs stutter, pressure squeezing his temples, as if all air has been sucked out of the room. Bichen dissipates and Lan Wangji is left gasping, one hand still raised uselessly in the air.

From the shadows, someone says: “Ah, that’s not going to work.”

Lan Wangji is already looking to the side. He sees only a figure at first, because when his sword disappeared so had the strange, omnipresent green glow. The glow returns now, slowly illuminating a young man curled against the opposite wall, his hair a dark, tangled wave over his shoulders, wrists chained together with thick iron manacles. For a moment his eyes, staring right back at Lan Wangji, are the brightest thing in the room.

“What do you mean?” Lan Wangji demands, finding his voice. “Is there a suppression array?” It must be powerful to choke off his magic so finitely. If he can see it, though, he can figure out how to undo it.

The man wrinkles his nose. “Not exactly. But—ah, ah,” he says as Lan Wangji starts to stand, “don’t move too fast, the blowback from that is going to be pretty harsh.”

Lan Wangji understands almost instantly as a wave of vertigo hits him. His knees buckle before he’s halfway to his feet and he collapses back on the pallet, bracing his weight on his elbow to keep from falling entirely. When his ears stop ringing he can hear his own ragged breathing.

Enough, he thinks, and forces himself to even his breaths. To shift focus. Clearly whatever precautions Wen Chao and his soldiers have taken to secure this room go beyond magebane and a simple suppression array. He won’t be able to escape by sheer force like last time, but this will still be no more than a brief detour on his journey. He will make sure of it.

Yesterday—was it yesterday, now? The chamber has no windows, just the eerie green glow emanating from the walls—Lan Wangji had been traveling with a retinue of junior enchanters to retrieve research texts from the Circle in Hedong, where scholars claimed to have promising studies related to fade rifts. They were nearly there when a raven alighted on Lan Wangji’s shoulder, bearing the message: Siege on Gusu Circle. Reconvene to the north. He’d sent the junior enchanters ahead and turned back before the raven even took flight.

(The note had not mentioned his brother, so his brother must be alive. Rumors were already spreading outward from Gusu as he rode, saying Wen Xu had an archdemon, Wen Xu burned the Gusu library to the ground. They did not say Wen Xu killed Zewu-jun, Wen Xu killed a mage with a glowing hand. So his brother must have escaped. Knowing this did not stop Lan Wangji’s heart from racing as he spurred his horse faster, past refugee settlements and Templar camps, toward the distant gash in the sky.)

And then: a poisoned arrow biting into his arm, his horse crumpling on a hardpacked road outside Lingchuan. The Wen soldiers, ready for him. (Not ready enough, when at least six of their bodies fell before Lan Wangji did.) One day in the first cell, his failed escape attempt.

And now: magicless, trapped in a strange room with a strange, sharp-eyed prisoner watching him struggle to sit upright, the slow crawl of time a physical weight on Lan Wangji’s shoulders.

“Honestly, just ride it out,” the prisoner is saying. He has his chained hands up and open, like he’s trying to calm a spooked animal. “You’ll feel better in about an hour. Maybe less, if you’ve had a good meal recently.”

Lan Wangji’s head spins sickeningly. He ignores it, pushing himself up until he can prop himself against the wall, putting himself eye-level with the prisoner, at least.

“Or sit up anyway, I suppose,” the prisoner says. His voice has a ragged edge, as if it’s scraping its way out of his throat. “Sorry, I’d offer you some water, but I drank it all before I knew I’d have company. What are you doing here, anyway?”

If First Enchanter Lan wants his nephew back, he’ll have to lend us a few books, Wen Chao had mocked from outside the first cell. And if he wants you back with all your limbs attached, he’ll have to throw in trading deeds with the eastern lyrium mines for good measure. Do you think he can deliver that before you die here?

Wen Chao wanted demonic texts, Lan Wangji had guessed, the ones hidden deep within the library. No doubt for some dangerous, power-hungry scheme, and no doubt connected to the rifts. From there, it wasn’t hard to piece together that the attack on the Circle was meant to discover which texts were critical enough to be rescued and transported away, and likely steal them in transit. There are protocols for such events, Lan Wangji knows, and his presence here means the raid was unsuccessful, and he will be used as leverage for a second attempt.

If Wen Chao meant to scare Lan Wangji with his demands, he had only succeeded in doing the opposite. Because if all they want from Lan Wangji’s family are books and deeds, it means they don’t know about his brother yet.

Lan Wangji doesn’t share any of this. “Political prisoner,” is all he says.

“Ahh.” The man nods. “I figured, what with the…” He gestures at his own forehead, chains clinking as he does. “You’re obviously a Lan. Someone will pay well to have you back home.”

“They should not have to pay at all,” Lan Wangji bites out. Something about the prisoner’s casual attitude grates at him. The world outside is quite literally falling apart at the seams, and Lan Wangji doesn’t have time to be used as bait in Wen Chao’s small-minded games.

The prisoner shrugs. “Yeah, but there’s not much choice at the moment, is there? For now you’re stuck here with me. I’m—my name is Wei Ying, by the way. What should I call you, while we wait?”

“Do the Wen soldiers enter this cell often?” Lan Wangji says instead of answering. “Is there a chance of overpowering them?”

A grimace. “Often enough. And no, I’ve tried. They’re stupid, but they’re prepared.”

Lan Wangji casts another glance over the man—Wei Ying—and carefully keeps any skepticism out of his expression. Then he looks around properly for the first time. Wei Ying is right—there’s no visible array on the floor, no glyphs on the circular stone walls. The green glow fades as it climbs the wall, leaving the ceiling cloaked in shadow and dizzying to look at, like an endless tunnel. Disturbingly, there isn’t a visible door, either. There isn’t much of anything but the one straw pallet, a lidded pot against the wall, an empty bowl next to Wei Ying, bone-dry, and Wei Ying himself.

“A Lan,” Wei Ying says when Lan Wangji is silent for long enough, pitched low, almost like he’s talking to himself. “I’m surprised Wen Chao would be so bold. He has to know that won’t go over well in the long run, I wonder if his father has any idea? No, he would’ve sent Wen Xu. Maybe Wen Chao thinks that by the time someone comes for you, he’ll have—” Wei Ying cuts himself off. Blinks. “You are real, aren’t you?”

Lan Wangji narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you’re not…” Wei Ying waves a hand at the room around them. “But, ah, why would I dream up a whole Knight-Enchanter? A Lan at that? You felt real enough, when I dragged you onto the pallet, but it’s still hard to tell.” Lan Wangji must have some reaction to that—to knowing this stranger’s hands have been on him, when he was unconscious—because Wei Ying adds, defensive: “What was I supposed to do? They left you on the floor.”

Lan Wangji doesn’t have an answer to that.

Wei Ying tips his head back against the wall. “Well. Your Circle, they have your phylactery, right? They’ll find you. Pay the ransom, or lay siege to Wen Chao’s little fortress here. That would be nice.” He casts his gaze over Lan Wangji again. “Looks like our captors were gentle enough in the meanwhile.”

There’s dried blood tugging at the hair of Lan Wangji’s temple, and he still has the nauseating sense that if he moves too fast he might collapse again. Gentle isn’t how Lan Wangji would describe his treatment so far. But it is also far below the threshold of what he can withstand, so it doesn’t seem like a point worth arguing. “And you?” he hears himself say.

“Uh.” Wei Ying shifts and holds up his shackled hands. “Less gentle, I suppose.”

“I meant—who will be paying your ransom.”

Wei Ying drops his hands into his lap. “Oh. No one.”

“Then,” Lan Wangji says, “why are you here?”

For the first time, Wei Ying flashes a smile. A hooked dagger in the dim light.

“I have something they want.”

[cutieodonoghue]

the edge of hope (2/9)

summary: canon divergent au; when Din left Sorgan to protect the Child, he left the woman he’d fallen in love with, not knowing he’d also left behind something else. Or, Omera and Winta join Mando and Grogu on their season 2 adventures. Mandomera!

Catch up here: 1

Second chapter below the cut or on AO3!

The Marshal

Peli Motto was a small woman, whose brown curls were wild and free atop her head. Her hands were on her hips the instant the ramp to the Razor Crest extended downwards.

Her worker droids seemed eager to get to work on the ship, chirping and chattering as the steam from the engines exhausted, three of them with tools in hand at Peli’s side. She shooed them away, but he shrugged, saying, “May as well let them have at it.”

In a sling he’d constructed of fabric, he held the Child at his side, and behind him, both Omera and Winta followed onto the flat white sand of the hangar bay. 

The trip had been seamless, and he’d actually found that he enjoyed getting to spend the idle time listening to Winta tell stories about life on Sorgan. Omera had been quiet, but her smile was kind when he mentioned that the Child had begun trying to form words. Nothing substantial yet, but Din was sure he’d get there eventually.

“I guess a lot has changed since you were last in Mos…” Peli paused, surprise in her features at the sight of the Child slung off to his side. He adjusted it so that the Child could see her more clearly, slowing to a stop before the woman. “Oh, thank the Force! This little thing has had me worried sick.”

Peli reached in, grabbing the Child without permission. He squeaked, little noises that Din had learned indicated that he was curious.

“Looks like it remembers me. How much do you want for it?” She paused, eyes finding Omera standing at his side. She softened slightly. “Guess your crew’s grown since the last time you were here, too.”

Din glanced over at Omera and Winta. In a way, it felt like he was introducing them to an old friend, even if he and Peli weren't quite friends- or were they? 

Maybe they could find themselves on Nevarro and meet up with Karga and Dune at some point. Omera would probably like to see Cara again.

He nodded at Peli. “We’re here on business. Need your help.”

"Hold on. Aren't you gonna introduce me to your new crew members?"

Omera stepped forward, smiling kindly. "I'm Omera. This is my daughter, Winta."

Peli grinned. "Peli. It's good to meet you. Anyone who travels with Mando here is a friend in my book." Lifting an eyebrow at him, she snarked, "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Din turned his attention onto the Child still held snug in Peli's arms.

“I’ve been quested to bring this one back to its kind. Can you help?”

“Oh, wow.” She scoffed and gave her head a minute shake. “I’ve never seen any like it. And trust me, I’ve seen all shapes and sizes in this town.”

 “If I can locate another of my kind, I can chart a path through the network of coverts.”

Peli looked him up and down. “You’ve been the only Mando here for years from what I can tell.”

“Where is Mos Pelgo?” Omera spoke up. “We’ve heard that there is one there.”

“Oh. Boy, I haven’t heard that name in a while.” Peli frowned. “It was wiped out by bandits. Once the Empire fell, it was a free-for-all. I didn’t dare leave the city walls. Still don’t.”

“Can you tell us where it used to be?” Din asked.

“R-five!” Peli called out. “Bring the map of Tatooine!”

The droid did as was requested, with only a mild admonishing by Peli. With the holo map displayed, the hangar manager gestured to the markings.

“This is a map of Tatooine before the war. You got Mos Eisley, Mos Espa, and up around this region, Mos Pelgo.”

“I don’t see anything.”

“Well, it’s there. Or, at least, it used to be. Not much to speak of. It’s an old mining settlement.” She turned, looking at the Crest. “They’re going to see that big hunk o’ metal long before you land.”

“You still have that old speeder bike?”

Peli looked at the group of them, already chastising him for the idea before she could do it with her words. “You can’t all fit on one speeder bike. How about we find you one more? The ladies can share.”

Din turned to Omera. “Do you think you could ride a speeder with Winta?”

With a little breathless smile, she shrugged. “I used to race speeders. Why not?”

Suddenly, he was desperate to learn so much more about Omera, but there was no time.

“Where’d you find this one?” Peli teased with a wink. “I know a guy. Let’s get you on your way.”

-

Omera’s speeder bike had a sidecar where Winta sat, strapped in tight. They rode behind Din, whose attention was dead-set on getting them well on their way to Mos Pelgo before the suns set.

As they traveled the sandy dunes of Tatooine, Omera smiled to herself beneath the scarf she used to cover her mouth and nose. It had been a long time since she’d last ridden a speeder, but it felt natural to be back at it again. Winta seemed to enjoy it too, giggling loud enough to be heard over the whirring of the engine. 

Swiftly, it seemed, dusk came upon Tatooine. Din slowed when they spotted a group of camped out Tusken Raiders, all gathered around a fire with something cooking on top of a spit.

“I think we should stop. Ask for directions.” Din spoke just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the bikes. “They know this land.”

Omera nodded in agreement. “Do you speak their language?”

“I speak a lot of languages.”

It was all he said, as if it was the most casual thing in the whole of the galaxies to be well-versed in a lot of languages. She resolved she’d have to ask him more about it later.

Din led them into the camp with one hand held up in an act of peace. The Raiders had banthas grazing, something that drew Winta’s attention. Having slowed her speeder to a stop behind Din, Omera withdrew her scarf and smiled softly at her daughter.

“They’re called banthas.”

Winta’s eyes grew wide with curiosity. “Do you ride them?”

“Sometimes, yes,” Omera confirmed, keeping her voice quiet.

Din spoke to the Tuskens, gesturing with his hands as he went. It seemed the Tuskens found whatever he had to say amenable, returning to the campfire with a gentle gesture of kindness made with one of their staffs.

The Mandalorian turned to them. “They would like us to join them.” 

He stepped toward their speeder and helped Winta out of the sidecar. Omera watched with so much intensity that it prevented her from climbing off of the bike herself. It was endearing to see that he cared.

As soon as Winta had set her feet on solid ground again after a day of riding through the desert, he turned to her. “You alright?” 

Omera smiled and nodded. “Yes.”

Swiftly, she climbed off of the bike and moved to reach into one of the pouches on the side, where she’d stored some food for them to share on their journey to Mos Pelgo. After handing Winta a ration of food, she took her by the hand to walk with her toward the strangers.

She and Winta kept quiet, sitting opposite of Din at the fire that was mostly surrounded by Raiders. Din spoke with them. His knowledge of their language was entirely fascinating to her.

The discussion wasn’t very long, and once it was over, the Raiders took their food that had been cooking and retreated to their banthas just beyond a hunk of rock in the earth so that they could rest.

The fire still crackled between them, giving the armor Din wore a warm orange tint. Beside him, the Child sat, still keeping his unyielding focus on his father.

“They say it isn’t far from here,” Din told them. “Just a few more hours. We can make it by midmorning tomorrow.”

“Did they say if there were people still living there?”

He nodded. “They say it’s a small community.”

Omera looked at Winta. Her daughter kept her gaze on the sky, scanning the stars above them. It must have been a lot for her to take in. A new planet, with new creatures and beings. New languages that didn’t make sense to her mind.

She put her hand on Winta’s back and soothed her by rubbing a gentle circle with her palm. 

“How are you feeling, my love?”

“Tired,” Winta admitted. She scrunched up her nose as her focus returned to her. “We were riding the speeder bike for so long.”

“I know.” Omera smiled sympathetically. She bit down on her lip, thoughtful, and then looked at the rock just opposite them beyond the fire. “Come with me. We can lean back against the rock and try to rest.”

Together, they stood and joined Din on his side of the fire. Winta sat against the rock first, and Omera followed. When she did so, she was surprised to see that the Child stared back at her, his head tilted with curiosity.

“Are you tired too?” she wondered.

The Child made a noise, a little blep. Din scooped him up and stood from his little stool made of a chunk of rock. He moved to join Omera, settling down close enough to her that she felt his shoulder touching hers.

The Mandalorian adjusted his son in his arms, cradling him, and then looked at her. “I’ll keep watch. Just in case.”

“You should rest too,” Omera said. She didn’t want him to carry the burden of being the sole protector of their group. She wanted him to know that he had an equal in her. “I can keep watch for a little while.”

The Mandalorian shook his head. “I’ll be fine.” 

She sighed a little, but nodded regardless. Omera brought her arm around Winta, the girl already eager to lean into her side so she could sleep cushioned by her. 

Gently, Omera allowed her head to fall onto Din’s shoulder, and she felt him go still, as if surprised, but he didn’t say or do anything. 

Then, she heard him sigh softly, and his voice was quiet, “Sleep well.”

-

Almost as soon as the twin suns of Tatooine rose, they were on their way to Mos Pelgo. Feeling not so refreshed from what amounted to a nap or two sitting upright against a rock, Omera felt confident that they would find what they were looking for.

Their arrival caused somewhat of a stir in the people of the tiny town, especially as they slowly rode their speeders through it in search of another of Din’s kind.

“Do you think they’re here?” Winta asked nervously.

Din remained quiet as he surveyed their surroundings from just ahead of them.

Tucked into a pouch that hung from the side of the speeder, the Child peered around at the faces of the onlookers. His little ears twitched at all of the sounds of the new town. Omera could tell that he was incredibly happy to be on an adventure with his father. He’d worn a smile on his face since they landed on Tatooine.

Din slowed to a stop before the town bar and climbed off of his speeder without any further thought or discussion, moving toward the building with intent.

Winta, her carefree girl, very nearly followed after him, but Omera slowed her with an extended hand. Together, they made for quite the crowd. Part of her wondered if it would be sustainable in their search for a Jedi.

“We’ll wait outside, Winta.”

Winta huffed a dramatic sigh, throwing her head back as she folded her arms to her chest. “But Mama, we’re here to help.”

“I don’t think we’ll be very helpful if we get in the Mandalorian’s way.” 

Omera climbed off of the speeder, watching with curiosity when she spotted the Child climbing out of his little pouch to go join Din in the bar. She made no move to stop him. Din was his father, and she was only a friendly face to him.  

As Omera helped Winta out of the sidecar, Winta’s brow furrowed. “I’ve heard you say his name. Din. Can I say it too?”

Omera glanced into the open door to the bar. She saw three figures within, but the light from the suns was too bright for her to know if Din had found who he was searching for.

Looking to her daughter once again, Omera shook her head. “We can ask him. But not yet. He has a lot on his mind right now.”

Taking Winta by the hand, they moved to stand by the door of the bar, off of the sandy road that cut straight through Mos Pelgo. The small town was surprisingly populated for having no markings on any map. In some ways, it reminded her of the village they lived in on Sorgan: a tight-knit group of people from all walks of life, all gathered to form one community.

Just opposite them on the other side of the road, Omera spotted a woman with a baby, swaddled against her chest. The child’s head was all she could see, but she couldn’t help but take compassion on their mother, who struggled to lift a container filled with water up onto the porch of the dwelling.

Their eyes met from across the sandy divide and Omera smiled, her fingers having fallen to the small swell of her belly as a reflex. It seemed the woman found kinship with her, offering a kind smile in return.

There was a great rumbling of the earth that forced Omera into protective mode. She grabbed for Winta as the ground shook and listened as fearful townspeople scurried away from the main road and into their homes as fast as they could.

Suddenly, an alarm blared, but it did not give nearly enough forewarning of what was to come.

Din and another of his kind, donning an aged and worn sort of armor, but who wore no helmet, stepped out of the bar.

She’d learned from Din that Mandalorians wore their full armor in the presence of others. It seemed there was still something for them to learn about Din’s kind, if this man was indeed a Mandalorian.

The sand began to move, as if swallowed by the ground, starting at the far end of town. Swiftly, a creature hidden by sand burrowed straight through, dark and powerful. 

From what Omera could tell, it was a sand dragon, scales the color of the sand. She was sure it had plenty of sharp teeth that would destroy anything that stood in its path, including an innocent bantha just beyond the town’s outer rim.

The dragon made a noise, a moan, and then it was back beneath the surface, burrowing away from Mos Pelgo as if it got what it came for.

It was over almost as soon as it had begun, but the ground still vibrated in the creature’s stead.

Without the alarms blaring, the townspeople began to make right their main road. They worked in teams to reset fallen equipment, to survey the damage as if this were something that happened often. Omera’s heart sank for them.

“Are you alright?” Din’s voice returned her focus to him.

She nodded, realizing that she still held onto Winta as if something was about to happen. She gently released her daughter, glancing past Din to the man in green and red Mandalorian armor.

“We’re fine.”

“Now, hold on,” the man said, a polite smile curling at his lips. “Just who might you be?”

“I’m Omera. This is my daughter, Winta. We’re traveling with the Mandalorian.”

The man looked at Din thoughtfully for a beat. Then, nodded at Omera. “Cobb Vanth. I’m the Marshal of Mos Pelgo.”

“It’s good to meet you, Marshal.”

She had the feeling that Cobb Vanth wasn’t truly a Mandalorian. He seemed carefree in the armor, as if not sworn to any sort of creed. The way Din stared after the Marshal made it clear even without seeing his facial expression: he didn’t trust him.

“That creature’s been terrorizing these parts since long before Mos Pelgo was established.” Cobb said, gesturing to the town street. “Thanks to this armor, I’ve been able to protect this town from bandits and Sand People. They look to me to protect ’em.” He eyed Din. “But a krayt dragon is too much for me to take on alone. Help me kill it, I’ll give you the armor.”

Pausing thoughtfully for a moment, Din seemed to consider how he would do such a thing. 

“Deal. I’ll ride back to the ship, blow it out of the sand from the sky, use the bantha as bait.”

Cobb Vanth shook his head. “Not so simple. The ship passes above, it senses the vibrations, stays underground.” He paused, seeming to know he had Din where he wanted him. “But I know where it lives.”

“How far?”

“A few hours at most.”

-

They rode speeder bikes following Cobb Vanth’s lead straight into Tusken Raider territory. The Tuskens, they soon discovered, had been trying to rid the valley of the krayt dragon, but hadn’t been successful.

As they all sat around a fire in their small village on a tall ridge, Omera listened to the Tusken leader explain to Din that the dragon had taken a home that they would visit come the morning. 

Winta lay curled at Omera’s side, sleeping to the sounds of discussion and a warm fire. On her other side, the Child sat, his ears perked at the chatter. He seemed deeply interested in what was going on, but especially in the sound of Din’s voice.

Cobb Vanth clearly had some qualms about the Sand People, his fears coming out in frustration that ended with Din rising to his feet and blasting a brief stream of fire from his flamethrower between the two parties.

Silence fell over the group for a moment before Din spoke in Tusken again.

“What are you telling them?” Vanth asked, still catching his breath from his anger.

“Same thing I’m telling you,” Din said coolly. “If we fight amongst ourselves, the monster will kill us all.” 

When there wasn’t any conversation left to be had, the Tusken leader made a gesture to Din and their people retreated to their homes a few hearty paces away from the fire.

“We’ll rest here for the night,” Din explained to her and the marshal. 

Pride wasn’t quite the only thing she felt, having watched Din spend the past several hours bridging the gap so that two groups of peoples could not only communicate, but form a bond in the shape of coming together to fight for a similar cause.

Cobb Vanth rose from his perch by the fire and nodded. “You were… very helpful today, Mando. Apologies that things got so heated.”

Din nodded his head once at Vanth, but said nothing in response. Omera stared into the flames of the fire as the marshal’s footsteps faded into the near distance. Perhaps he needed a moment to gather his thoughts.

“Come here, kid,” Din’s voice brought her attention away from Cobb. He stood from his previous spot across the fire, moving to be closer to her and Winta. With hands outstretched, he took his boy into his arms. “Time to sleep.”

The Child made a little noise in protest and Din shook his head, sighing heavily. He reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out a small metal ball, holding it between his fingers for just a second before giving it to his son.

The responding coo was enough to make Omera smile. 

The Mandalorian settled himself and his son on the ground beside her, taking care to ensure that the boy was more comfortable than he was. 

There was no doubt in her mind that he was a good father, and he would continue to be, even if she chose not to share the secret she carried within her.

So easily, her mind retreated back to the fact that she still hadn’t told Din. She knew she shouldn’t tell him right then, not with his head in the midst of such a deep, complicated problem. However, soon, she’d have no choice, and that was something that terrified her.

It was dangerous to love a man whose life was one mission, one fight, one danger after the next. She’d learned this once before, with Winta’s father, and had been determined that she wouldn’t allow it to happen again. 

Yet, her heart yearned for him anyway. 

“Is all of this really for a suit of armor?” Omera asked quietly.

Din turned his head toward her. “It’s Mandalorian armor. It doesn’t belong with him.”

Omera smiled thoughtfully. She shifted just slightly, enough that their arms brushed. “I think you can’t help but solve every problem that comes your way. You can’t help but help people.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. It’s kind.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “You are a good man, Din.” She paused, smiling a little when she took notice of the Child sleeping in his arm. “And a good father.”

The Mandalorian was silent for a moment. His voice cracked when he spoke again, soft, just for her, “I’m trying.”

-

Just shortly before morning arrived on the sandy planet of Tatooine, Omera woke up. She checked on her companions and quickly discovered that the children both remained soundly asleep. 

The Child rested beneath Winta’s arm like he belonged there, making the tiniest noises that made her smile. The visual was a warm reminder of a time to come, when Winta would get to cradle her new sibling as they slept.

Din was nowhere to be found, but Cobb was still asleep as well, hands tucked together against his chest while he laid flat on the ground. 

Omera stood so that she could stretch. It wasn’t easy to sleep on the ground and her body made sure she knew that. With a small grimace, she felt the tell-tale signs of a friendly bout of sickness tickle at the back of her throat.

The Sand People had shown them where they could relieve themselves in private, so she made her way to the space between two rocks and unceremoniously got sick.

By the time she was finished and had pulled herself back together, the suns had finally poked their way past the horizon. As she emerged from the space between the rocks, she saw the Mandalorian. He stood talking with one of the Tuskens, though his attention very quickly shifted onto her.

Averting her gaze with the smallest twinge of embarrassment, Omera walked back to the campsite. Winta had risen for the day and sat up with her arms wrapped around her knees. She stared blankly ahead of her, very clearly just as exhausted as Omera felt.

“Morning, Winta.” Omera managed a smile. “How did you sleep?”

“Not so good.” Winta scrunched up her nose. “The ground is very hard.”

Omera hummed. She went to their speeder bike to grab a container of water from a pouch at the side. When she joined her daughter on the ground, she had a hearty sip to wash away the taste of bile from her throat.

“I don’t suspect we’ll be sleeping on the ground for very much longer,” Omera told Winta. “Do you want some water?”

Winta nodded. She handed the container off to her daughter and peered over at Din. The Mandalorian made his way toward the camp, hands on his hips like he was in charge. His arrival to the camp made his boy toddle toward him with arms outstretched.

“The Tuskens said we have to ride banthas to the sarlacc pit.” 

He leaned down to pick the Child up and settled him into one arm. It was so natural how he fathered his boy.

“Really?” Winta asked eagerly. Suddenly, she was wide awake and ready to see what the day held for them.

Din nodded once. “They’d like us to leave soon, so if we’re all ready…”

Winta was on her feet in an instant. “C’mon, Mama. We get to ride a bantha!”

Omera laughed. She stood again and met Din’s gaze. Her heart skipped an unexpected beat and her belly swooped. 

“You’ll have to teach us how. We don’t have any experience.”

He tilted his head slightly at her. “Well… it’s pretty simple. I don’t know if you need a lesson.”

Omera lifted a shoulder and smiled at him. “Humor us.”

When they were given a bantha to share, Din helped direct them. “You first, Omera. Grab the horn on the saddle. It’s like riding a speeder.”

Omera did as she was told, careful with the mighty beast as she slung her leg over the saddle and put both feet into the stirrups. Looking down, she saw Winta beaming with delight.

“Me next?”

“Here.” Din held out his hands in preparation for grabbing Winta from behind. “I’ll help.” 

The Mandalorian hoisted Winta up into his arms and Omera helped settle her onto the saddle in front of her. When Winta was secured, Omera held onto her tightly, arms wrapped around her middle.

Winta giggled with the brightest kind of happiness. 

“Thank you,” Omera said earnestly to the Mandalorian. 

Din nodded at them. “You’re welcome.”

When their banthas began to move, Winta gasped and laughed again. Din glanced over at them from his and Omera swore she could almost see his smile. 

-

After visiting the sarlacc pit, they returned to the village on the tall ridge for another evening of discussions. The Tuskens showed them that they’d come up with the bare bones of a plan by literally using, well, bones. 

Diplomacy between the people of Mos Pelgo and the Tuskens continued well through the night, arguments and ideas exchanged with tense looks and words spoken through the Mandalorian.

Omera cared for the children as best she could, supervising as they played and drew figures in the dirt. When it came time to eat, she prepared a small meal of soup for the Tuskens to thank them for their kindness. 

As she ladled out a second bowl for the Child, she listened to Din speak with Cobb Vanth. It was apparent that tensions were still high, but she had a feeling Vanth would be unable to keep fighting off the sand people, should he want the krayt dragon to leave his people alone.

Cobb pivoted on his foot, reaching up to scratch his beard in thought, and walked away, leaving Din alone to speak to the Tuskens.

When they seemed satisfied, Din approached the Child, who sat on the ground with his bowl of soup between both hands. 

“He’ll come around to your plan.” Omera stood to ladle out a bowl of soup for the Mandalorian, fresh from the pot over the fire. “He’s just too proud to admit he needs help.”

She held the bowl out for him to take. “It isn’t much, but it will fill you for the night.”

“Thank you.” For a moment, he didn’t take it from her, simply staring at her instead. When he finally extended his fingers to take it, he asked softly, “How are the children handling all of this?”

“As well as any child.” Omera smiled a bit when she recalled Winta’s soft sighs of boredom earlier in the night. Now, she laid on the ground sound asleep. “Winta has already learned so much about the universe she could never learn in her lessons at home. She loves the banthas.”

Din chuckled. “I heard.”

Glancing over at Din’s son, she found him staring up at them with his teeth exposed and a happy giggle. Omera had learned quickly that the boy found the most joy in the simplest moments. He liked being a child, something that he’d never be able to have. Not truly.

“He loves to hear your voice. I think he would be happy anywhere you were.”

Din sat on the ground beside the Child, earning the boy’s affection in an instant. Omera joined them, drawing her knees toward her chest so she could rest her cheek upon them as she gazed after the man she loved.

He adjusted the bowl in his hands. “The plan will only work if we all work together. I worry that won’t be possible.”

Omera’s heart ached. “You’ve done all you can. It’s up to them to see this for what it is.”

The fire crackled and she shifted to allow herself to get lost staring into it. Her mind drifted, thoughts of the future echoing through her mind in a pleasant daydream. 

“The Tuskens told me they were thankful for your kindness today.”

She smiled softly to herself. Looking at Din again, she wondered aloud, “When did you learn their language?”

“I was taught many languages as a child. It was part of my training.”

Omera hummed in understanding. Between them, the Child waved his hand at her, as if trying to get her attention. “Hello, little one.”

“He likes you.”

She flashed a smile at Din. “Since we’re part of the same crew, I’m glad. It would make for difficult travels otherwise.”

Din laughed through his nose, barely enough to humor her. She had the feeling that he was unsure of how to act with her. If she were being honest, she wasn’t exactly sure either. 

She had joined him on this mission out of a deep desire to know if they could be together. She wanted to learn if his time on Sorgan had merely been a gift that should have been cherished for what it was.

So far, she’d found that traveling with the Mandalorian brought her more comfort than she’d thought it could. 

For so long after he left the village, whether she meant to or not, she’d waited for him to return. As the days had passed, she wondered if he could possibly feel the same way she felt for him. It was nice to think that maybe he did. Why else would he have invited her to come with him?

His fingers caressed the rim of his bowl of soup, a reminder to her that he wouldn’t eat it unless he could remove his helmet, something that would require him to be alone.

Carefully, Omera lifted his son from where he sat between them into her arms and cradled him against her chest. 

“We’ll turn away so you can eat.”

With a brief look around to check their surroundings, Din nodded.

Omera turned away from the Mandalorian, focused on the babbling Jedi child in her arms. He put a hand on her cheek and she smiled at him.

“Are you getting tired yet?” she asked quietly. “Winta fell asleep a while ago.”

The Child’s fingers moved away from her face and he blinked slowly, revealing that he was indeed getting sleepy. Omera lifted her fingers to the wrinkled top of his head and soothed him.

Softly, she sang the words of an ancient lullaby, a song she’d sung to Winta when she was a newborn baby. A song she would sing one day to the child growing within her as well.

As the verses of the song came to an end, she hummed the melody, gently swaying with the Child in her arms. His eyes had fallen shut, but she could tell he wasn’t quite asleep yet.

After a few more minutes, she rested her palm over his belly and lowered her lips to the top of his head. “Sleep well.” 

“You have a beautiful singin’ voice, if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

Omera looked up at the sound of Cobb Vanth’s voice. He approached the fire with his hands settled on his hips.

She smiled at his complimentary words. “Thank you, Marshal.”

The Marshal of Mos Pelgo turned his attention to the Mandalorian. “It’s nice to see a family tight knit as you are. Got some really good kids, too.”

Slowly, she shifted in her spot, turning to see Din again. He’d replaced his helmet, the bowl empty on the ground beside him. 

“Thanks.”

The Mandalorian didn’t correct Cobb. She wasn’t sure what he would correct him with. They weren’t technically a crew. They weren’t technically a family. They were more than friends. Perhaps the best thing to say was nothing at all.

Cobb slowly slunk towards them, settling himself down on a boulder across the fire from Din. 

“I’ve given it some thought. The deal is too good for us to pass up. We lose the dragon. Our town can return to life as normal. And, we get an ally in the Tuskens, as strange as that would be.”

“All they’re asking is you keep the peace,” Din said. “Think you can manage that?”

He nodded. “I think so.”

“Then tomorrow, we’ll go back to Mos Pelgo and get prepared for a fight.”

Cobb flashed them a smile, nodding his head. He looked at the pot hanging over the fire. “Somethin’ smells real good.”

“Oh, you can have some,” Omera smiled back at him. “I managed to pull some soup together.”

“Anything beats the roast mystery critters we had last night. Much obliged, ma’am.”

As Cobb helped himself to the soup over the fire, Din suddenly rose to his feet and walked over to his speeder bike. He grabbed something from a satchel hanging off the side, obscured in the dark. When he returned to the fire, he knelt at Winta’s side and covered her sleeping body in a blanket. Omera smiled at the kindness of the act.

Din lingered for a second when he stood, his attention on the Child in Omera’s arms, and then he was back at her side, his shoulder brushing hers.

Omera looked at the Mandalorian, listening as the fire crackled, and found that he focused on her. 

They didn’t need to talk. She shifted closer to him and rested her cheek against the cool of his armor. Her gaze comfortably returned to the fire in front of them. Din’s fingers found her knee, as if it were his way of welcoming her intimacy.

“Do you want to help during the fight?” Din asked, his voice quiet.

Omera didn’t need to think about it. She was here to help Din on his path, and that path now included a fight with a krayt dragon. As scary as it was, she knew deep within her very soul that they would be capable, especially with the help of many.

“Of course. I’ll do whatever I can.”

The Mandalorian’s fingers flexed a little on her knee. “I’m glad you’re here.”

She smiled to herself, unable to help it. “Me too.”

-

With the Marshal of Mos Pelgo willing to try the plan that the Tuskens pulled together, they returned to the sleepy town with the intention of drafting an army composed of every townsperson. 

It wasn’t easy. There were some hard words and tense arguments. As they began to saddle up their banthas, a few of the townspeople fought with the Tuskens, but Cobb Vanth was quick to calm things. 

Hopefully, the tensions between the two groups wouldn’t be a sign of things to come.

When they arrived at the abandoned sarlacc pit for the second time, Omera and Winta helped the townspeople with their elaborate trap in the ground. There seemed to be a confidence that built over the course of the morning, as they crafted the trap that would ensnare the great krayt dragon.

When it came time for them to execute the plan, she retreated to the distant line at the back of the fight, where Din and Cobb Vanth were waiting with a few of the Tusken leaders.

With the Child in her arms and Winta at her side, Omera felt nervous. She hadn’t wanted to bring the children along, but Din promised that when it came time for the dragon to be baited, Winta and the Child would be tucked away, protected from the violence to come.

None of them imagined it would fail. In fact, there was no choice. They had to succeed.

Din approached her with a rifle in his hand. “We need you to shoot.”

Omera nodded once and took a deep, steadying breath. It was time for them to wake the dragon. She lowered the Child into Winta’s arms. 

“Go to the little alcove we found earlier. I’ll come for you when it’s safe. Don’t be afraid.”

Winta bobbed her head and was on her way, fast and easy, with no arguing. It was good, Omera thought, that she wasn’t any older, lest they have a fight over if she could stay and be part of the battle.

Omera took the weapon from Din, their fingers brushing ever so slightly during the pass. She didn’t like to shoot, but this was part of the agreement she’d made with herself when she decided to leave Sorgan to join Din. She would defend herself, and her children. 

“We’ll stay back here. Hopefully it doesn’t get too messy.”

The Mandalorian had planted the roots of confidence in the army gathered at the entrance of the abandoned sarlacc pit, but now, they would all have to work together to find victory in that confidence.

At first, the plan seemed to work. The dragon emerged, its roars angry, and it was eager to snack on a few of the Sand People that couldn’t move fast enough. Each life lost made Omera’s heart ache all the more. 

The Tuskens deployed their spear launchers, tethering the dragon to them by rope so that they could try and pull it towards them. It wasn’t an easy task.

The creature slithered in the sand closer to their charges, but not quite close enough to make the hit fatal. The Tuskens yelled in their language, clearly getting a little bit frustrated, and Din cursed aloud.

“Dank farrik, it’s going back in.”

The Tusken Raiders began screaming, frantic, and they all watched with bated breath as the dragon began to slink backwards, the rope of the launched spears popping free and dragging a few of the raiders back with the monster.

“It’s retreating.”

“I’m going to hit it,” Cobb Vanth said. He held in his hand the button that ignited the charges they’d set.

Omera’s eyes widened. “There’s only one shot. Don’t.”

“We’ve gotta get it out first,” Din agreed. 

Even though it was logical, Vanth gritted his teeth and shook his head at them. For now, he was complacent. 

The dragon seemed stagnant, lingering in a backwards-forwards shifting position. The townspeople began to throw explosives at it and a line of fighters fired their weapons. It noticed the people on the ground and slithered forward once, letting out a great roar.

This time, its jaws descended upon one of the people of Mos Pelgo.

“Now?” Cobb asked Din with a wavering tone.

“Not yet.” Din’s voice was level and calm. Practiced. He knew what would work. “It’s gotta come out further.”

Another deep-bellied roar. The Tuskens used their spear launchers a second time with zealousness, sending several into the beast’s head so they could pull it forward.

The body of the beast slithered forwards, roaring and moaning as it went, clearly trying to break free. One of the ropes snapped from the mechanism it had been tethered to, sending three Tuskens skyward, and the krayt dragon lifted its head out of the sand, roaring as if in warning to all of the offending fighters.

It dove forward, a sickly green bile spewing from its mouth onto the retreating army. 

“Almost. Almost.” Din kept a level head in the midst of what seemed to be a near failure. As soon as the beast settled onto the ground again, he shouted, “Now!”

The detonator beeped and the charges ignited, prompting the krayt dragon to let out a pained roar as it slithered down and backwards into the sand again. Silence. A great cloud of dust filled the air.

But it didn’t feel like a victory.

“I don’t think it’s dead,” Vanth finally said.

“Me either,” Din agreed.

As if hearing the conversation, at the top of the mountain that towered above the entrance to the pit, the dragon sprung to life, lurching forward from the rocks, roaring at its enemies as they began to fire upon it with blasters. Then, more of the green acid spit from its mouth onto the group of innocents below.

Omera pulled the trigger of the rifle, aimed at the dangerous beast, but she was sure she did absolutely no good. It did seem that their explosion had caused it an injury, but in its annoyed state, it seemed more volatile.

“It’s picking us off like womp rats,” Vanth uttered. “Let’s get after it!” 

Rushing backwards, away from the mess of the battle, Omera focused on the creature in her sights and listened as the two men in armor took off by jet pack, soaring closer to the beast as it writhed in the rocks. They fired at it, but even at close range, their weapons seemed to do no damage.

The dragon lurched at them and the duo flew back onto the ground with the majority of their forces. As they did so, the creature disappeared, burrowing down through the rock, and for a few heart-stopping moments, they waited for it to reappear again.

When it did, it attacked the group from the side.

Omera watched through her scope as Vanth used his armor to release a missile at it. The explosion drew the dragon’s attention toward the group on the ground.

She saw Cobb pass Din the detonator. Then, he used the end of his gun to force Vanth’s jetpack to take off, launching him high above the ground in a cloud of smoke.

Slowly, the krayt dragon moved like a predator seeking out its prey. The townspeople fled, and so did she, scattering around with haste, but Din stood still. 

As she helped a fallen townsperson stand to their feet, Omera focused on Din, her eyes narrowing and her heart racing in her ears.

The Mandalorian stood in front of a bantha, who had more smarts than he did, struggling to get free and run far away from the dangerous dragon, but Din grabbed the rope, tugging at the creature to get it to stay put.

And then, it happened.

Omera’s eyes widened in disbelief when she watched Din get swallowed whole by the great dragon. Its teeth seemed all the sharper as its mouth descended upon the man she loved. 

Then, as if it hadn’t done anything at all, it disappeared into the sand.

Her breath caught in her lungs and she stopped breathing. The world felt absolutely silent and gone around her, even if the battle still raged on.

Feeling entirely numb, Omera stumbled backwards, unable to continue moving with the rest of the fleeing army. She instead watched the ground where the dragon had disappeared with a palm pressed to her rapidly beating heart to see if maybe, maybe Din had a plan. 

Maybe he hadn’t just run straight into the belly of a krayt dragon with an explosive bantha and no other thoughts in his head.

After a handful of seconds that felt like an eternity, the ground began to shake. The dragon burst from the earth, releasing a roar of pain, and she saw Din soaring out of its mouth with his jet pack. 

In the next instant, there was an explosion that shook the entire valley, a violent shockwave emanating from the beast as it was torn apart from the energy of the detonation.

With a relieved gasp for air, Omera closed her eyes and allowed herself to smile. They had been successful. The dragon had been slain.

From his spot flying above the explosion, Din flew toward her, settling on the ground with ease.

She approached him swiftly, clamoring to touch him, as gross is it would be. He dripped with green fluid from the belly of the creature, but all she cared about was knowing that he was alive; that she could touch him and know he had survived. 

Her fingers settled on the braces of his forearms and she held on tight. She finally felt as if she could breathe easy again.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” Din apologized instantly. “It was the only way.”

Omera shook her head. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

For a few seconds, they stared at one another, not saying anything at all. Her mind felt empty, but she was so full of gratitude and adrenaline-fueled joy that she almost wanted to admit to him that she loved him.

Reality settled in before she could do something so out of place. She pulled away from the Mandalorian and took a half step backward. 

“Let’s get the children,” Din said. “We should probably head back to the ship as soon as we can.”

Omera smiled. “Your son will be anxious to see you.”

When they approached the small alcove where Winta sat, cradling the Child tightly to her chest. Their eyes both lit up at the sight of them.

“Mama!”

Winta scrambled to her feet and eagerly handed the Child to his father before she wrapped Omera in a snug, tight hug.

“Are you alright, my love?” Omera asked, cradling the back of her head.

Winta nodded. Omera kissed the top of her daughter’s head and looked up in time to see the Child with his hands on Din’s helmet, cooing warmly as Din cradled him in the crook of his arm.

“Alright, alright,” Din mumbled. “You’re excited. I get it.”

Omera chuckled. Winta detached herself from her and went to Din. Her arms went around his waist, hugging him just as tight as she’d hugged Omera. He seemed surprised, but with a glance downwards, he put his hand on her back.

“Are you okay?” Winta asked him. 

“Yes. We defeated the dragon.”

Omera couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of Din with both of the children wrapped in his arms. Her heart felt impossibly full, somehow, after having very nearly broken just minutes ago.

“What will we do now?” Winta asked, her smile bright as she stepped away from the Mandalorian. 

“We’ll return to the ship,” Din said. “Keep looking for another of my kind.”

Winta nodded. “And we’ll go too?”

Omera and Din exchanged glances. She could tell that he was just as curious to know what she thought of the mission they’d found themselves on and if she wanted to continue on the path forward.

She’d been nervous that something like this would happen when she agreed to come with him. A near-death experience was likely in the daily agenda of a Mandalorian. Even so, she had faith, perhaps blind, that Din would take care of them, and that this journey would give them a tighter bond.

“Yes,” Omera agreed, “we’ll go too.”

Her daughter beamed up at her, then looked at Din. “Since we’re still going to be traveling together, what should I call you?”

The Mandalorian hesitated for a moment in silence, probably debating whether or not he wanted Winta to know his name. “You can call me Din.”

“Din,” Winta repeated. “Okay.”

“Don’t say it among strangers,” Omera said gently. “Out of respect.”

Winta bobbed her head with understanding and reached for Omera’s hand. 

Omera took a steadying breath. After the day they’d had, she felt tired and wished for a place to rest, but it was likely they wouldn’t have any rest for a while. 

Almost immediately, the Tuskens got to work carving up the fallen dragon in the sand. It smelled awful, but it was a relief to all that it was gone now. 

They offered them a hunk of meat from the dragon, thanking them for their part in the execution of the plan, and Din secured it to the back of his speeder bike.

Once they found Cobb Vanth, the man followed through on his end of the deal he’d made with the Mandalorian. He gave Din the armor with a smile, not one ounce of remorse in his features.

“This was well-earned.”

Din took the well-worn suit of armor and added it to his growing collection of gifts on the speeder. 

“It was my pleasure.”

Cobb turned to Omera and Winta. “Thank you for your help. Couldn’t have done it without you.” He looked at the Mandalorian for a moment. “I’ve never seen someone act so quick on their feet like this man here. You should be proud.”

She couldn’t help but smile fondly, casting her gaze onto Din. “We all worked together. We should all be proud of what we accomplished today.”

With a bright grin, Cobb shook Din’s hand. “I hope our paths cross again, Mando.”

“As do I.” 

“You too, Omera.” Cobb winked. He took a few steps back, gesturing to the Mandalorian with a tilt of his head. “Keep an eye on this one. He’s nothin’ but trouble.”

Omera laughed. “I will.”

Once they were all settled on their speeder bikes, Omera gave Din a nod of approval and a smile that reflected the contentment she felt. 

They hadn’t found a Mandalorian on Tatooine, but instead, she had seen him lead the once divided valley into peace. How lucky was she that she could be on a journey with someone capable of accomplishing something like that? 

Din was ever so patient, waiting for her to give him the all-clear. “Ready to go?” 

Omera nodded again. She lifted her scarf from where it rested around her neck to cover her mouth. “We’ll follow your lead.”

[gohyuck]

prompt 4, lee jeno, streetracer au

prompt: “Everyone told me I’m crazy picking up a boy that drives a Camry.”

extra: streetracer au

note: suggestive (mild mentions of sex), jeno + cars which might be emotionally overwhelming for y’all because PHEW is it overwhelming for me omfg, this one’s a little long for a drabble but overall it isn’t super long (it’s like... 1.4k?)... i lowkey wanna write a racer jeno fic but idk lmk if that’s something the people want lmfao

july 5th, 2020.

it’s the first race of his you’ve ever seen.

you’ve memorized the course, a consequence of hours spent staring at the map until it’s been imprinted beneath your eyelids. the route ends where it starts, and the rest of the roads will be closed off - you’re sure renjun, one of the officiants, has bribed the city’s construction sector to ensure this - so no bystanders are hurt, but you don’t particularly care about unlucky pedestrians or drivers that could be potential collateral damage. still, it’s on the outskirts of the city, so there wasn’t as much risk as there could’ve been to start with.

it sounds bad when you think of it, but you can’t bring yourself to be repentant of what you worry about and what you don’t. after all, your focus is exactly where it should be:

jeno lee.

your boyfriend hasn’t been shy in letting you know about his pastimes: he’d told you about his penchant for speeding through the city in his toyota camry after the fifth date, had murmured it into the skin of your bare shoulder as his fingers skimmed your bare waist. it was the first night you’d stayed over, waking up to the sunrise, coffee, and round two. his apartment was - is - tiny compared to yours, a studio apartment just big enough to live in versus your penthouse suite uptown. still, from that night on, his place feels more like home than yours ever will.

you hadn’t really talked about how worried you are for him then, instead allowing him to give and take to and from you as he pleased. you still haven’t talked about how worried you are for him, although instead of being in his bed at 2 am you’re on the sidelines of one of his street races, 2 way radio in one hand and phone open to a police scanner app in the other.

it’s insane, you think to yourself, that you’re an active participant in a highly illegal race. if any of your friends - who all believe jeno to be a terrible influence, in his tattooed glory and always shrouded in cigarette smoke - could see you now, they might have simultaneous aneurysms. they’re all far too enveloped in the socialite life you’re trying desperately to shed.

none of that matters to you now, though - what matters is the cars you can see emerging from a turn far, far off in the distance. there’s only two - a bright red civic and a sleek black camry, the latter carrying your boyfriend and his best friend jaemin - and they’re neck and neck, tire to tire. it’s a short race, a quick couple of loops around the track that’s been laid out for the night. there’s prize money, yes, but it’s only a couple hundred bucks - if jeno wins, he’ll put his half towards paying his rent.

you watch with bated breath as the cars get closer and closer, your eyes trained on their front bumpers. renjun makes his way to the center of the starting line, his faith in the two drivers astounding you as he waits patiently for them to near him. mark jogs across to set up a slow motion camera on the other side, and, on your right, jisung sets one up as well. renjun stands still, gaze piercing the night as he stares straight ahead. before anyone can process the end of the race, both cars race past. your hair flies up from the wind generated by the cars’ speeds, and you hear the distinct sounds of two sets of brakes squealing as both cars finally, finally come to a rest.

you hold your breath as mark and jisung analyze their films. donghyuck pushes open the drivers’ door of the civic, with chenle walking out of the passengers’ side. jaemin leaves the camry first, and jeno follows, running his hands through his hair as he gets out. you’re too focused on mark and jisung to notice your boyfriend until his cologne engulfs you, just moments before he pulls you into his side by your waist.

“how was your first race?” he whispers, lips right by your ear as he leans towards you. you relax against his hold as you mumble a ‘good’, and he presses his lips to your hairline as the two of you wait. yes, winning the race is, at most, rent money and a mild sense of pride, but jeno’s arms are tense around you.

he loves cars, and he loves racing them for enjoyment, yes, but you know that he’d rather be racing them to win and only to win. his dreams are lofty, but if he can win another streetrace, who’s to say he can’t keep winning his way up until he’s good enough for the big leagues? he’s beaten every racer in the city except for donghyuck, and whoever wins this race will hold the unofficial title of truly being the best of the best.

tonight has been jeno’s toughest race to date. he wants to live off the adrenaline just a little longer... that, and rent is due next week.

after eons, mark raises his head.

“i’ve got jeno,” he calls out, and jeno’s arms pull even tighter around you as he awaits the final verdict.

“so do i.” jisung responds, only just loudly enough to be heard by everyone. without meaning to, you let out a laugh of pure, unadulterated joy, and jeno spins you around to hug you properly. you hear donghyuck and chenle congratulate him, feel jeno get handed $100 by renjun while the other $100 goes to jaemin. you’re basking in your pride, face against jeno’s jacket.

it’s the first victory of his that you witness, but it certainly isn’t the last.

♕ ♕ ♕

september 12th, 2024.

“you know,” you start, words coming out in a satiated sigh as you shift to lay on your side. the silk sheets of the hotel suite’s bed tangle between your legs as you begin to trace random patterns on jeno’s skin.

“hm?” your fiancé prompts, smiling down gently at you as you lay your hand flat on his chest.

“way back when, everyone - all of my ‘friends’ - told me that i was crazy for picking up a boy who rode around in a camry and, quote unquote, looked like trouble. i wonder if they’re watching you now.” you glance up to meet his gaze, and the corner of his eyes crinkle as he lets out a quiet chuckle.

“don’t know if i ever stopped looking like trouble, to be honest, even if i don’t drive my camry anymore. haven’t changed much in these past four years.” jeno’s voice is husky at this time of night, just a little gravelly and soft enough to where you strain a little to listen. he never fails to make your heart do somersaults, even after five years of knowing him.

“you literally just won the italian grand prix, and you say you haven’t changed much?” your tone is still soft, though not without an edge of incredulity. jeno traces a finger down your naked side, moving so he’s pillowing his head with his forearm, all just to see you properly.

“i’m still the same guy, just with money and a better job. my morals are the same, fundamentals are the same - my love for you, what defines me, it’s still the same. just because i’ve got a couple of pro racing trophies under my belt -”

“- eight -” you interrupt, brow furrowed at jeno short-selling himself. he sees this, raising his hand to tease against your scalp.

“- under my belt,” he continues. “it doesn’t mean anything truly important has changed.”

“... i guess.” you finally acquiesce, and jeno fondly tugs you close so that you’re lying on top of him. the new position has something stirring in his chest, and he brings his hand up to your face, cupping your jaw before pulling you gently towards him.

“wanna know what i’m putting my prize money towards?” he asks, words sounding harder than they should. you squirm slightly, still just a little fucked out from earlier, but jeno’s always had a way of making you want more.

“what?” you ask, shifting so you’re straddling him. he lets you plant your hands on his chest before he responds, the beginning of a smirk evident against his plush lips.

“our honeymoon,” he whispers, leaning up so his lips are brushing yours. “wanna put all that cash towards a room with enough surfaces for me to bend you over to last us a whole week.”

jeno closes the space between the two of you with a bruising kiss, and you find that he’s right - nothing really has changed in the past four years. he still fits you perfectly, body made for your own.

some things never change at all.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Forsaken | Part 13

Summary: As one of the Forsaken, Jinyoung had no right to covet anything as his own. When he stumbles across you standing in the middle of the village he had plundered, the memories of old make him risk it all, clutching at the past in hopes for a better future.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: warrior au / star crossed lovers / angst / romance

Warnings: death, kidnapping, cursing, a myriad of emotions - this is a really sad love story. In this particular part, there is a small battle scene.

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 

“We cannot skirt the mountainside all afternoon,” Mark stated as Jinyoung reached another of your fabric markings. “The cart won’t make it up here and the horses may not fit in some parts that a walking human would.”

“They’re alive,” Jinyoung breathed out the most hopeful sentence he ever had in the presence of his friends. Blinking aside his growing emotions, he nodded once. “You’re right. We need to not take the path they have.”

“Argo and his men will be after them as well, we have to be quicker than them,” Jaebum urged and Jinyoung turned back along the track, moving swiftly to where they had left Jackson and their mounts.

The man was now astride his horse and gave them all fair warning with his eyes as not to dispute it. “Where do we go now?”

“They took the mountain path so we go north,” Jinyoung announced, kicking his horse into its fastest gait. It wasn’t as easy for the cart to go at this speed, but thankfully the ground didn’t give it too much trouble. On the hillier parts of the road they slowed down, and every second they took to maintain their supplies only made Jinyoung yearn for you further.

He needed to see you with his own eyes before the sun set today.

Looking to the mountain path as often as he could, Jinyoung wondered how many trackers you had left for them. Did you have enough of your pants left to protect your legs from debris within such a dense forest? Was Youngjae struggling to climb and thus slowing you down? Were you still moving or had you given up inside the forest?

It was strange to be filled with so much hope after years of dismissing the emotion entirely. Your return had softened his mind and led him to hold onto the precious ideas that his heart governed.

It was all he had right now to continue his path forward. If he didn’t have you at the end of this, there would be no point to anything.

Jinyoung still believed in your breathing. You wouldn’t give up either. He could somehow feel it, as if the air you had expelled now reached his face, guiding him towards you.

Travelling around the mountain pass took longer than he hoped for and the sky was losing some of the vast blue that had brightened it. Jinyoung cast his eyes to the heavens with a silent plea, asking for more light to guide their way. He hadn’t prayed this hard in all his life as he was right now. He begged the moon to hold back from arriving too soon. He knew you wouldn’t make the night out here alone without shelter.

“Is that…” Jaebum called as they came around a bend, the man leading the way now. Jinyoung leaned forward and clucked his tongue in gesture for the horse’s legs to lengthen stride, trying to see what his friend already did.

There, in the distance, two people were making an exhausted dash across a clearing. Tears streamed from Jinyoung’s eyes and his vision blurred despite his efforts to blink the emotions away. Relief coursed through him and with a final yah to the magnificent creature that had powered its way across the countryside for him, he tried to reach you even a second sooner.

Upon hearing the horses, you and Youngjae gripped at one another, dropping into the grass in hopes to hide. You bravely stole a look to see who came upon you, your head appearing more easily when you realised Jinyoung was here for you.

It was as if the Gods had heard his prayers and gifted you with renewed energy. Running across the field towards him, Jinyoung asked the horse to halt, leaping from its back and ran the rest of the way to you. Colliding against you, he pulled you as close to his heart, his soul, as he could get you.

He couldn’t tell who was crying harder between you both.

The others caught up and Jaebum was tearfully greeting Youngjae, checking him over for any added injuries. You didn’t move, not once, even when the others started talking fondly, simply remaining buried within Jinyoung’s embrace.

He didn’t stop you; in fact, he had no desire to let go of you either.

However, it wasn’t safe to remain here like this for long.

Mark looked at the map and then to the road ahead. “We’re on our way already.”

“To Nowhere?” you whispered and Jinyoung nodded. “We can make it?”

“We need to find a place to camp tonight.”

“They’ll be looking for us,” Jackson warned with a hiss, reaching for his side.

You finally moved from Jinyoung’s side and over to feel Jackson’s forehead.

“He’s feverish!”

“Whether they find us or not, we have no choice but to rest.”

“Have you ever been sick?” you asked with a nasally voice, coughing a little as Jinyoung tended to your fever with a cool cloth. He stopped his action and thought for a moment.

“Once.”

“Who tended to you?”

“Nobody, I just rode it out.”

“That’s awful!” you proclaimed, battling through a series of nasty coughs that had Jinyoung reaching for the glass of water on your bedside table. Once recovered, you smiled weakly. “No one should go without love when sick.”

“You and that love,” he muttered, reaching up to dab at your forehead again.

You watched his actions for a moment before a smile spread across your lips. “You’re showing me your love right now.”

“No, I’m removing your fever. You’re very hot.”

“Am I? I don’t feel it.”

“Of course not, you’re too sick to tell.”

“I feel your love though,” you persisted, stretching your hand out towards his jaw and cupping it gently. “You are the sweetest lover.”

“And your fever is doing the talking right now,” he answered with a steady flush of heat rising upon his skin. Jinyoung started to feel feverish himself, dabbing at his own forehead with the cloth.

You giggled. “Here, allow me to show you, my love.”

All night long, Jinyoung allowed you to rest in his lap. He watched as you slumbered peacefully, brushing his fingers over your forehead to remove any wrinkles when you thought too hard within your dream state. They had found a secluded area to hide that was far enough from the road to easily discover, and thanks to Mark’s excellent shot, they even were able to have dinner. You had managed to change out into spare clothes from the cart earlier.

Youngjae was resting against Jaebum as he tended to Jackson’s feverish state and Jinyoung couldn’t help but smile at the memory that had freshly popped into his mind.

Jaebum smirked. “Why, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy.”

“Shut it before I start spouting nonsense about you showing your love for Jackson right now,” he shot back and Jaebum frowned before chuckling.

“Well… I do care about him. I guess that’s enough to mean love. I think. I still don’t really understand the concept.”

Glancing down at you, Jinyoung smiled. “I do.”

“Don’t rub it in my face, Commander.”

“You called me a fool for being in love.”

Jaebum shrugged. “Maybe I want to be a fool one day.”

“Me too,” Youngjae said with a dreamy sigh, rolling into Jaebum and nestling in further. The older man closed his eyes to settle his amusement before continuing to dab at Jackson’s forehead. “We’re a family, right?”

“Where did you suddenly get that notion? We’re a team,” Jinyoung refuted though he became thoughtful. You had talked of family recently as well.

“Y/N mentioned that a family sacrifices itself for one another. We’ve been doing that for a whole lot of years, brother.”

“Oh, so I’m your brother now,” Jinyoung asked teasingly and Jaebum shrugged. Thinking it over, Jinyoung nodded. “I wouldn’t give my all for any other bastards in our team.”

“You let BamBam live.”

“He lost a part of his life with that painful knowledge.”

“The old Jinyoung would have sliced him down all the same. You’re fond of him much like I’m fond of Youngjae.”

“I’d much prefer BamBam on the battlefront than Youngjae.”

“I don’t know, he might surprise us,” Jaebum mentioned with a grin and Jinyoung laughed softly.

As the stars littered the night, Jinyoung contemplated that of family and bonding. He hadn’t thought he had a whole lot in this world. Yet as dawn approached them and he looked around at those who sacrificed their all to come on this journey, he felt as if he had been blessed with too much for someone so wicked.

The feeling continued as he rode with you sitting in front of him, pressing his lips into the back of your head whenever he felt as if he didn’t express his gratitude enough for what he held.

The sun had been bright for most of the morning and then it became hidden behind a dark cloud. The ominous change loomed over their heads, sharpening their senses. Jinyoung looked to Mark who nodded. “I hear something too.”

“What?” you asked, growing nervous. “Maybe it’s nothing bad.”

The first drops of rain fell on top of them as Mark prepared an arrow. When he caught sight of the first warrior, he let it fly, knocking him off his horse instantly. The roar of commands filled the air and the sounds of hurried movement were deafening. Jinyoung curled his arm tightly around your waist as he rode on ahead, Mark and Jaebum flanking him on either side. Youngjae, having scrambled from the cart he was tending to Jackson upon to the back of the horse, now tried to keep up with Jinyoung, dodging the firing arrows on the way.

Even as he took men down from on top of his horse, Jinyoung knew they were outnumbered. He tried his best to navigate a way to keep you safe, pulling out his sword and swinging it at those who came too close. You gripped on only to kick out when someone grabbed for his leg.

“Get back you monster!” you cried, reaching for your dagger and thrashing it about. Jinyoung couldn’t relax his grip, even with your attempts of protection, and realised the army was quickly surrounding them all. He pulled his horse to an unsteady halt, the animal leaping around on its front legs in mutual frustration.

Just as Argo rode towards him with a triumphant smile upon his face, Jinyoung turned to a new sound fast approaching.

An almighty growl came from the direction they had just ridden from, men being slain in quick concession. Mark and Jaebum used the distraction to make a gap in the men who entrapped them from the path ahead.

“It’s BamBam and Youngjae!” you cried as you craned your head around Jinyoung’s torso. “It’s the rest of the men!”

Jinyoung blindly took out several more enemies coming his way, keeping his eye on Argo.

The warrior merely smiled at him before charging forward.

However, before he could even make it close enough a horse flew right into his side, BamBam leaping from the saddle and onto the burly opponent.

Jinyoung edged forward, only to see the pathway created opening up further.

“Go!” the young man yelled as he stabbed at Argo, Yugyeom jumping into the fight and barricading the attacker also. “Go before it’s too late!”

“You must live!” Jaebum screamed before kicking onwards, following Youngjae already hurtling down the path.

Jinyoung watched as his men, the ones he had so easily left behind to save you, now protected them all with their lives. With a final glance at the fight, he pushed his horse down the path to escape, Mark taking up the rear.

May BamBam seek all the revenge we deserve, Jinyoung thought desperately as they galloped solemnly towards their destination.

_________________

Part 14

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[leolupus]

The Last of Us Au (2/4)

Prologue + Summer

Fall

The journey to the Hydroelectric Dam, located in Wyoming, that Wade resides in was interesting.

You and Ellie, along with Yukio, slowly grew closer as friends. Yukio taught you and Ellie how to craft things while Ellie taught you how to shoot either a gun or bow & arrow.

Yukio has more hunting experience than Ellie, so she also teaches you and Ellie how to track prey. Ellie prefers to be a forager than a hunter, so you were the one who learns more about hunting from Yukio than Ellie.

The three of you made stops along the way for supplies, you try to find more comics to continue the story you’re reading. Reading those books helps you cope with what’s going on around you.

Ellie claims it’s a waste of time, but both her and Yukio kept their eyes out for it when searching for supplies.

“(Y/N), found another one of those comics you been reading.” “Awesome! Thank you! I’ll read it when I get the chance.”

Yukio and Ellie have their own coping system, and both are willing to help out with yours. If reading helps, they’ll keep their eyes out for those books.

Even though you’ve been traveling for months with them, you still feel like a third wheel. Ellie and Yukio have history with each other, both know more about each other than you about them. They have a connection that you don’t have with them, and you feel like an intruder in their relationship.

With what little time you spend with them, you enjoyed their company. However, if what you believe the two are together, you don’t want to be in the way.

Ellie won’t admit it, but she cares for you as much as she cares for Yukio. The same goes with Yukio, she wishes that you weren’t reclusive from her and Ellie.

The three of you made it to the out skirts of the Hydroelectric Dam. There you made it to the entrance that Ellie knocks.

The gate opens by a energetic man, who is excited to meet Ellie and Yukio again after so long. Even more so when he sees you because of how Ellie made another friend besides Yukio.

Yukio and Ellie went to talk with Wade privately while you go to the canteen with his wife, Vanessa. To say the least, you felt left out when the two left with Wade because whatever they’re going to talk about scares you.

‘Were Yukio and Ellie going to leave you here with these people?’ Is the first thought that comes to you. You won’t blame them, you feel like a burden waiting to be passed to someone else.

Ellie and Yukio are having a split decision when discussing with Wade about the Fireflies. Ellie wants Wade to deliver (Y/N) to the Fireflies who will then give him the supplies offered for her that he can keep and some supplies so her and Yukio could be on their way. Yukio, on the other hand, doesn’t want (Y/N) to feel abandoned and just wants supplies and the location of the Fireflies so her and Ellie could continue her (Ellie) mission.

Wade agrees with Yukio, saying that he has a wife and a community to look after here. He even refuses to send other people, who also have family, instead when Ellie mentioned them.

Before an argument could start, the hydroelectric plant is under attack by bandits. The three, along with other people from the company, fought their way through the bandits towards you and Vanessa.

They were able to get to you and Vanessa, Wade went to check on his wife while Yukio and Ellie check on you. You were rambling about what happened, how Vanessa and you fend off a couple of bandits by the time they got to the both of you.

Yukio and Ellie don’t care about that, all they care about was if you got hurt and that you were ok. Wade sees the three of you and considers about Ellie’s offer, mostly to help you out; but first he have to talk to his wife about it.

You see Wade and Vanessa arguing while Yukio gave Ellie the cold shoulder, refusing to talk to her. You asked what they (Wade and Vanessa) were talking about, if it was about you. Ellie replied that they (as in her, Yukio and you) would talk about it later before Yukio could reply. Ellie stops you before you could ask again.

As you walk away, you came to a conclusion that the two don’t want you around anymore. So, you head towards the stables where the horses are.

Once she agrees, Vanessa head towards Ellie and threaten her that if anything happens to Wade, it’ll be on her (Ellie) hands before walking away. Wade tried to say that she agrees with him and that he will be taking (Y/N) to the Fireflies. Ellie mentions how she needs to talk to you first before her and Yukio head out.

Not a moment before they went on their separate ways, Wade gets a call from his radio that you stole a horse and rode off. This prompts him, and Ellie to go after you, Yukio staying behind to help with the wounded.

They found the horse you stole at a ranch not far away and entered the house. Wade kept watch to make sure no bandits catch them by surprise while Ellie search the house for you.

Ellie finds you first, the conversation about her leaving with Yukio and that Wade will take you to the Fireflies starts. You ask about what will happen if you refused.

Ellie talks about how you endangering yourself by running off was stupid. You mentioned how both of you were disappointed with each other and that you want her to admit that she wanted to get rid of you all this time.

Ellie denies that, saying that you would be safer with Wade than you are with her and Yukio. You countered that by asking what is she, that you will end up like the other survivors that they met? You can take care of yourself and that you can’t get infected.

Ellie says that the three of you had closed calls and even though you said that you all are doing alright so far, Ellie claims that you will do better by being with Wade than you are with her and Yukio. You refused that logic, saying that the whole “being safer with someone else” is bullshit and that you’ll be even more scared than you are now.

You come out saying that the people you love are either dead or left you, all except for her and Yukio. Before anything else could be said, Wade interferes to warns you two about the bandits.

In the end, the three of you came out victorious, kicking ass and taking names. As the three of you head back towards the hydroelectric plant, Ellie thought about the conversation she had with you. Making up her mind, she asked Wade where the Fireflies Lab is. He answers that it was in the University of Eastern Colorado.

She then asked if he has small wagon and if she could borrow a horse for it. Both you and Wade were confused as he answered “yes”. She then said that it was settled and that she’ll pick up Yukio while you and Wade go set up the wagon before you, her, and Yukio be on your merry way towards the lab.

Wade comes to the conclusion that her and Yukio would be taking you to the Fireflies instead of him. He asked Ellie if she was sure about it and she confirms it, saying that he should stay with his wife instead.

While you and Wade set up a wagon with a few supplies (along with you apologizing about stealing a horse), Ellie went to check on Yukio about how the three of you taking a trip together. Yukio asked about the change of heart and Ellie told her about the conversation she had with you.

Wade gives the three of you a map on how to get there and wishes you all luck to make it there safely. With final goodbyes, you, Ellie and Yukio made your way towards Colorado.

The carriage was small enough for a draft horse to pull, but big enough to carry the three of you plus a few new supplies. Along the way, the three of you talk while keeping an eye out for bandits.

You told Yukio, like you told Ellie, that you really cared for the two, that they were the only people who stayed with you the longest while others left you, even after the near abandonment. Ellie comes out to you that the reason she wanted you to travel with Wade was because she didn’t trust herself to look after you, that she was afraid that one of the close calls would end with either you or Yukio being killed.

You never seen this side of Ellie before, the soft side as opposed to her tough persona you’ve known for all these months since you traveled with her. She’s concerned about the system the three of you have at surviving, these close calls. You guessed that the system she has with Yukio was different, one with no close calls.

Deciding to lighten up the mood, you unplug the headset from your cassette player and played one of your parents’ mixed tapes. You set it to the volume where the three of you could hear it and sing to it. You don’t care about the batteries, you cared about making Ellie happy.

To say the least, you never done this before, singing out loud to an audience of two. Half way through the song, you stopped believing they prefer to listen to the song than you singing; but the two encourage you, saying that your voice is beautiful to listen to.

So for the rest of the journey to the university, you sang to the songs that played until the battery ran out, but you don’t care because it was lighten up the mood.

The University was deserted besides the infected that were there. The three of you searched for clues to find any whereabouts of where the Fireflies, hopefully, relocated to. Which you did from a tape recorder you’ve found that after a few fast forwards, the three of you found out that the Fireflies have relocated in Salt Lake City.

Yukio noticed some lights out in the distance, but before either of you could react, a bullet went through the window and hit Yukio in the shoulder.

As Yukio fell to the floor clutching her shoulder in pain, you and Ellie duck for cover as another bullet cuts through the window.

Both of you crawled towards Yukio to check her wound. It looks bad, but considering how the blood is flowing instead of squirting out shows that the bullet didn’t hit an artery. However, there is a chance that the bullet could have cause a fracture towards the bone.

With what little medical training you have from military school, you immediately use the last of your supplies to help Yukio. After stopping the bleeding and dressing up the wound, you gently help Yukio to stand up after checking to see if she would be able to.

As the three of you made your way to the exit, Ellie went ahead to clear out the bad guys as you lagged behind to protect and help Yukio. Sadly, the three of your luck ran out the moment Ellie was ambushed by a survivor and pushed against the railing that eventually break, causing the two to fall.

The moment you and Yukio made your way down to Ellie, both of you noticed her being impaled through the stomach by a loose rebar. Before anything could be done, more survivors came through the door that Ellie took a couple of them down as you killed the rest.

You helped Ellie to her feet after she told you to help her get up from the rebar. Afterwards, you wanted to use what little supplies you have left to patch her up, but she refuses as she told you and Yukio to get to the horse.

This time, Yukio lagged behind to help Ellie while you take care of the survivors. Ellie and Yukio tried to help, but with the conditions they are in, the only thing they can do is help each other while you protect them.

The three of you were able to get to the wagon just as a survivor was attempting to steal the horse. You shot him before helping Yukio and Ellie up to the back of the wagon before getting up front and start steering the horse away from the college.

To say the least, both you and Yukio checked on Ellie, trying to keep her to talking as you steer the horse in search for a safe place to lie low for a bit. All you could think about was finding a safe place, find supplies, and patch up Ellie’s wound before going out searching for more supplies to make sure both Yukio’s and Ellie’s wound don’t get infected.

Snow started falling as you kept your focus on the road... At least until you started hearing Yukio yelling at Ellie to wake up. You stopped the horse for a moment before turning around to see Yukio gently shaking Ellie, who was leaning against the side of the wagon with her eyes closed, to wake up.

To be continued... Winter

[rosy-night-sky]

Of Treasure and Adventure

Genre: Treasure Hunter/Indiana Jones AU

Pairing: Ot7 x reader

Summary: Your grandmother gave you a gift that she won in a game, so naturally you are curious as to the origins of it. A decision was then made that you should seek the answers to your questions. However, you never expected your decision to lead you on a treasure hunting quest.

Warning: Suggestive and violent themes

Tag List: @sevenincubistolemyheart @xxqueenwxtchxx @technicolor-blues @taevkimchi @youcantbesiriusremus @vannilacake @baby-hobii @catsandstrawberries @izzyisavengersupernaturaltrash @http-lostforever @jhopetypes @seesawsmin-flower @taekookandyoongi @star-gods

(A/N: Ugh, so sorry if this is trash, I spent a lot of time writing this!)

Chapter 8

Hundreds of streetlights flew past you like little fireflies in the night sky. The white brick buildings that loomed over you as you rode pass by gave you a taste of home. Everything here had a sense of British influence on it. Even the way people acted reminded you of your home country. The orange and yellow lights that shone brightly from the streetlights dyed the night sky a blackish orange tint. A few pedestrians wandered around the streets, searching for anything and anyone that could give them a good time. They wanted to forget themselves and reality, even if it lasted only a single night.

The soothing evening breeze cooled your skin comfortingly. It had such a relaxing effect on you that you almost dozed off a few times. Key word… almost. Even if the night air was very relaxing, the fact that your stomach continued to do flips nauseously kept you awake and focused. The longer you remained in the car the more your stomach flipped and fluttered. Your mouth had been dry the entire ride, and this gagging lump was still lodged in your throat.

You fiddled with your fingers as you took in the evening sights, looking for anything that could distract you from your anxious thoughts. You were confident in the plan. After all, Yoongi spent an entire day mapping out the structure and wiring of the building where the gala was being taken place so that he knew which plug he needed to pull and which wire he needed to cut. He even came up with backup plans in case somehow merely flipping the switch permanently wouldn’t cut it. You tried to remain interested when Yoongi explained the nuances and technicalities of the switches, distribution boards, sockets, and light fittings in the structure, but you lost it when he began discussing how the building had a system where it employed vulcanized-rubber insulated wiring enclosed in a strip metal sheath which bonded to each metal wiring device to ensure earthing continuity. 

This was why you were a journalist and not an electrician. 

You inhaled deeply through your nose, your eyes closing for a mere moment as you willed your stomach to stop fluttering relentlessly. You didn’t know if you considered the events that were about to take place in the near future were going to be the most dangerous you underwent. After all, you took part in a shoot out a week earlier. However, you knew that this was going to be extremely risky. One wrong move and your whole life could be over in a snap.

Jin, who drove the convertible seemingly without a single care in the world, glanced over to your shaky and fidgety form and gave you a small, reassuring smile. “A penny for your thoughts?” he asked all too casually. He acted like he wasn’t about to commit a felony, which, you supposed, was a good thing. You rather he acted inconspicuous.

You tore your gaze away from the moving buildings and brought your attention to meet the millionaire’s beautiful face. The way the wind blew through his dark locks reminded you of the paintings of ancient Greek gods you wrote an article on once. He really was an image of perfection and beauty that all envied. Not a single blemish or flaw adorned his features.

Snapping yourself from your daze and thoughts, you replied in a tone that matched his, “Oh, nothing, just thinking about how this is all going to land us in prison.”  

Jin chuckled humorously, as if you merely told him a funny joke. “Oh, ye of little faith. Of course we’re going to end up in prison if you keep on with that attitude. Think positively and everything will be fine.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes as you prompted your uninjured elbow on the side of the car, your chin cradled in your own palm. “Last time I thought optimistically, I fell down a hill, sprained my elbow, and almost got shot on several occasions,” you quipped snappily. 

Jin didn’t reply at first. His eyes were glued to the cobbled streets which were free of any congested traffic. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel lightly, as if he was tapping to a jazzy tune that had been stuck in his head all day. “I won’t lie to you. What we’re about to do is very dicey.” You cut him off with a scoff before he continued, “However, half of what we need to pull this off is confidence.”

“Confidence or rashness?” you inquired with an arched eyebrow.

“Confidence,” he firmly answered, finally glancing to you out of the corner of his eye. “If we are confident that we can succeed in this endeavor, then it will happen. We can’t be constantly second guessing ourselves. Otherwise, this expedition will become a failure.” His mirthful smile slowly faded into an impassive gloom. The aura surrounding him had suddenly turned bleak, and you couldn’t help but probe into this.

“Are you telling this to me or yourself?”

His grip on the wheel tightened for a mere moment. You wouldn’t have caught onto the action if you hadn’t already been analyzing his body signals. You knew that he was carefully choosing his next few words. A single slip could lead into revealing confidential information about him. “I suppose a bit of both. We both need this message but for different reasons. This expedition is absolutely crucial, and we can’t afford to be anxious of what all of this may come to. We’ve come too far. If anything, that’s what fighting the Japanese taught me. We need to take a leap of faith sometimes,” he explained, and you listened to every single word that came from his mouth. He did have a point, you supposed. Being too scared to take the next step can be fatal.

You broke away your gaze from him and returned to the sights around you. “I guess you’re right.” 

“Exactly, now cheer up. Jungkook will be waiting for us.”

Right, Jungkook had decided to go on ahead while the two of you prepared yourselves for the night. He said he wanted to scope the area for any potential threats that could possibly jeopardize the mission. You agreed with his concerns. Everything had to be absolutely perfect. Not a single thing could be out of place.

You knew that you and Jin were nearing your destination. The streets suddenly became frequent with men and ladies embellished with silk dresses, dashing suits, sparkling jewelry, and expensive accessories. It looked like you were living those pictures from the magazines that you often lost yourself in for entertainment. Attending extravagant parties and balls with some of the most influential people in the country seemed like something from a dream to you. You never would have thought that you would have ended up somewhere like this.

Jin parked the car a few meters away from the entrance of the museum, and instantly you were starstruck by the opulence and splendor of the event. The museum towered over you much like the Goldosa had before. Spotlights pointed into the sky gathering the attention of all near and far. A red carpet was laid out for all of the attendees to strut upon as if it were something from Hollywood. A huge crowd of rich men and women were scattered about with drinks in hand, gossiping and gloating the prices of their clothing to one another.

Your eyes couldn’t help but remain glued to the sight, even as Jungkook stepped out into your view and opened your door, taking your hand and guiding you out of the vehicle. In all honesty, you felt like a sheep among a pack of wolves. You didn’t necessarily belong to the upper class, and, thus, such a display left you speechless.

Jin chuckled when seeing your amazed expression and gently looped his arm through yours. He was a gentleman through and through, after all. He couldn’t leave a lady unattended. “Shocked, are we?” he queried, his tone light and teasing.

Jungkook followed the older’s gaze and saw your gaped mouth and round eyes. A small snigger escaped his lips, and he quietly cooed to himself. You were honestly too adorable for words. You looked like a child being brought to her very first day of school. “Is this your first time at a gala?” he asked curiously.

You finally managed to regain yourself and snapped yourself out of your daze. You cleared your throat and clasped your hand around your red clutch bag with a firm grip. Looking back at Jungkook’s cute bunny smile, you replied, “Well, not exactly galas, but I’ve been to plenty of exhibit openings before. I’m a reporter, remember? It’s just…” Your voice trailed off as your eyes tarried up uncertainly to look at the shining spotlights pointed up into the night sky. “Isn’t this a bit much for an exhibit opening?” 

Jungkook also looked up into the black sky, his hands digging themselves into his suit pockets. “Actually, this is pretty subtle for a gala,” he commented, causing your eyes to widen in surprise.

Was he actually serious? There were galas more excessive and flamboyant than this? You suppose that the only way this could get any more extravagant was if the sky suddenly started to rain colorful confetti. Still, you thought that this was going to be more modest. You shouldn’t be surprised, but here you were, slack jaw and wide eyed.

“Subtle? This is absurd!” you exclaimed, although you softened your voice so that no one around could hear your rantings.

Jin finally broke out in a small bout of laughter. Your reaction to your first gala was too hilarious and priceless for him to not laugh at. “I once attended a party where the host brought show girls to entertain us,” he revealed, waiting with a smug smirk for your reaction.

Just as he hoped, you caught onto what he insinuated and began to sputter with round eyes. “Show girls?!” Why was he, a businessman, going to parties with showgirls? When did he have time for things like that? 

With a smirk, he lightly slapped your arm in a gesture to quiet down your flabbergasted shrieks. “Shush, darling,” he hushed in an amused tone. “People are watching.” He offered polite smiles to a group of older men sharing cigars and discussing politics in their small circles while guiding you through the white stone arches leading to the entrance of the museum. 

You huffed, still feeling the rush of shock in your veins along with the new feeling of slight agitation bubble within you. “Then don’t say things like that if you don’t want people to stare,” you retorted, glancing up at the stone structure before returning your focus to what was ahead of you. 

Jungkook straightened his suit and adopted the persona of an appointed bodyguard, his face donning a cold and calculated mask. Honestly, you would find his sudden switch to be extremely attractive, but you didn’t have time to be staring at him. He fixed his tie before commenting, “Tonight, y/n, everyone will be staring at us. Our each and every move will be judged by all.”

Those words didn’t exactly quell your fears.

Jin slowed his walking to a stop, as if mentally preparing himself for what was ahead. Suddenly, he turned to you and grabbed the white fur shawl draped around your shoulders and arms. He readjusted it so it sat perfectly on your bare shoulders like a mother fixing her child’s appearance so that he looked presentable. “You look lovely tonight, y/n,” he commented softly, a small smile gracing his lips. “Namjoon was right to get you this. It compliments your dress nicely.”

You flickered your eyes to the floor for a few seconds, suddenly feeling bashful from his sincere compliment. Your memory brought you back to your tender moment with Namjoon. His warm embrace, the way his eyes shone with such adoration and love. It was such a perfect moment. You could still feel his soft lips on yours. 

From the way Jungkook was staring at you, you figured that he knew what you were thinking. His lips curled into a smug, knowing smile that you just wanted to wipe off. Who knew the youngest could be such a brat sometimes. “Jin was also right to pick red for you. It really brings out your eyes.” 

You would’ve been touched by Jungkook’s compliment if not for his teasing smirk. Feeling your cheeks tingle with heat, you mumbled in reply, “Thank you. You both look rather dashing as well.”

Jin’s lips stretched to widen his smile. You had to admit, his smile was something ethereal. You wouldn’t be surprised if someone told you that he was secretly a deity in mortal disguise. A small laugh escaped his lips. “I am always dashing. You just have yet to realize that.” Once he was done fixing your shawl, he took your arm in his own again and faced the enormous crowd awaiting you both. “Remember to smile, dear. We can’t have everyone knowing our intentions.”

You both then stepped over the threshold separating you from the outside world. Just like that, the operation to steal the kobae began. 

“Right,” you sighed, curling the corners of your mouth into a courteous and cheerful smile. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Weaving you through the crowds with Jin at your side and Jungkook at your heel, the scent of expensive perfume and cologne filled your nostrils. You almost choked on the strong stench but managed to remain composed. Dear Lord, what do they put in those fragrance bottles? Skunk stench? It certainly was as strong and potent as a skunk.

“The worst, at the moment, is that we accidentally run into someone that either of us know,” Jin replied, taking you to the refreshment table. He plucked up two glasses of bubbly champagne and handed you one, which you graciously took. “Right now, we need to socialize. Talk to people. Warm up to them. Get on their good side. That way, when we have the kobae, we seem less suspicious to everyone.”

You took a sip of champagne while listening to Jin explain the plan and then grimaced in disgust. Ugh, what kind of champagne did they bring to this gala? You thought that the best was supposed to be here? Why did this taste so sour? Did they accidentally bring champagne that had gone bad?

“Wouldn’t we want to stay inconspicuous though? That way the people won’t remember us?” you questioned, trying to ignore the bitter taste on your tongue. 

Jin shook his head but continued to appear pleasant and cheerful to those around him. “No, people don’t attend galas to not mingle. If we want to seem natural to everyone, then we have to associate with others,” he answered, taking a drink of his glass.

Jungkook slowly took one of the glasses from the table, his fingers curling around the stem, and took a small sip from the yellow, bubbling liquid, as if he were curious about what it would taste like. Instantly, his face scrunched up in disgust as if he just ate a lemon and quickly placed the glass back on the table, hoping that no one noticed his little spectacle. Finally, you weren’t alone in this regard.

Leaning into him, you whispered, “You don’t like it either?”

He coughed into his hand shortly followed by his tongue peeking out of his mouth as if he were trying to be rid of the foul taste on it. “What did they put in it? Vinegar? Bleugh!”

Swirling your drink in your glass, you answered with a slight frown, “I think the champagne went bad. It doesn’t age well unlike wine.”

“No, it isn’t spoiled,” Jin answered plainly before taking another sip. He seemed unaffected by the sour taste. Lucky bastard. “If it was, it would be a golden hue, not pale yellow. This batch is just particularly sour.”

Jungkook scoffed quietly to himself. “Of course you’d know. You’re an alcohol connoisseur.”

Jin merely hummed pleasantly to himself, his eyes scanning over the vast crowds like a spectator watching a sports game. “You say that like it’s an insult,” he chuckled for a moment. His arm around yours tightened for a bit, rousing your attention to him. “Let’s go out and socialize with others before we’re deemed reclusive.”

You sighed in slight defeat. This wasn’t exactly what you were hoping for. “Jin, I’m not exactly familiar with these type of people.” You mildly gestured to the gossiping people before you, each seemingly enjoying themselves. “What do I even talk about?”

Jin shrugged his broad shoulders nonchalantly. “I’d imagine that the Indian Independence Movement is on everyone’s minds. You’re informed in that area, right? You could discuss that with others, but be mindful of what everyone’s opinions are on the subject. We don’t need to make any enemies tonight,” he mentioned.

You still hesitated to go out and begin consorting everyone. The thought of possibly offending some rich lord or lady accidentally sent a wave of dread over you. You shuffled in your spot uncomfortably next to the millionaire, suddenly becoming super self-conscious of every little thing you did. Did your hair look good? Is this how a lady is supposed to stand? What if someone saw your arm in a cast hiding under your furry shawl?

Jin noticed your reluctance and gave you an innocent smile. However, based on what he was about to say, you knew it was anything but innocent. “Aw, is our baby girl too shy to go out and make new friends~?” he cooed quietly enough so only you could hear him. 

“Jin!” you hissed under your breath, trying to ignore the growing heat on your cheeks. What was he trying to do treating you like a little girl? 

You heard Jungkook chuckle from behind you, a hand hovered over his mouth to hide and muffle the noise. “Does our doll-face need us to hold her hand tonight also~?” he murmured softly, his hand moving to reveal his cocky grin. Argh, how you wanted to smack that grin off his face!

“Jungkook!” you hissed with just as much fervor as you did with Jin. You felt like a mother trying to keep her mischievous sons under control. A sharp pang tug at your heart for their mothers. They must be exhausted from dealing with their little devils. “A bodyguard is supposed to be silent!”

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders carelessly, as if your words meant little to him. Jin, on the other hand, ignored your seething and pulled your closer to his side. The strong stink of perfume that filled the air was suddenly replaced by the natural scent of Jin’s musk. For a moment, you relaxed under his touch but then instantly froze up. “Don’t worry, dearest. I’ll go and help you make new friends.” He moved his hand so it was pressed against the small of your back, urging you to move forward.

You began walking at Jin’s insistence. Where to? You had no idea. Ladies and gentlemen stared at you curiously as you weaved through the crowds. You tried your best to ignore their rude stares and to remain calm. You just followed the direction that the millionaire pushed you until he abruptly pulled you to a stop before weaving his arm through yours again. You realized that he stopped you by a group of two couples around your age. Hopefully, this was a good place to start with socializing. 

“Good evening, everyone,” Jin politely greeted, giving each a small bow of the head. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

The couples, although they were a tiny bit perplexed by your sudden appearance, nodded in agreement. One of the men, who had a handlebar mustache that covered his mouth, spoke up, “I’m so glad that tonight is rather cool. I don’t think I could handle another sweltering night.” He then held out his hand toward Jin for a handshake. “Michael Collins.”

“Seokjin Kim,” he replied, returning his handshake. You supposed that Jin switched up his name so that they wouldn’t get it mixed up. 

“Ooooh, that sounds rather exotic, Mr. Kim,” one of the girls commented, her tone turning kittenish. She raised her hand toward the millionaire, offering it for a kiss. “I’m Charlotte Dixon.” You didn’t fail to notice the flirtatious gleam in her dark eyes as Jin took her hand in his own.

“Enchanted to meet your acquaintance, Ms. Dixon.” He placed a kiss on the back of her gloved hand. By the way his lips dwelt on her hand a second longer than necessary, you would’ve been rather irritated by his coquettish attitude, if not for the fact that you knew it was all an act. Like he said, you both needed people to think of you fondly, even if it meant tossing your morals and beliefs out the window.

Ms. Dixon’s partner must’ve been oblivious of Jin’s action for he didn’t react poorly at all, or he knew what his game was but didn’t care. He stuck his hand out to Jin, and at this moment you realized that no one was paying you any heed. You almost preferred it this way, since you weren’t given the opportunity to absolutely humiliate yourself. However, you soon found out that you didn’t like being on the sidelines. You wanted to be in on the action.

“Vincent Foster, I’m a distiller.” After he finished shaking Jin’s hand, he added with a proud grin, “In fact, I’m the one who provided this event with the drinks.”

Ah, so he was the one to be blamed for this God awful champagne? Good thing you hadn’t started complaining yet. Otherwise, you’d be in your own grave by now.

“Ah, a businessman?” Jin inquired, with a fond smile. “I myself own a watchmaking company. It’s so nice to see another person of the same mindset, and here I thought I would be surrounded by historians and philosophers.”

“If there were, then we wouldn’t even bother wasting our time here,” Mr. Collins’ partner remarked with a soft snort. You stared at her expectedly for a few moments, waiting for her to introduce herself. Once she realized that you, in fact, don’t know her name, she quickly added, “Oh, I’m Martha Hopkins.”

Once you gathered everyone’s names, you just realized that Jin was truly the oddball in the entire group. Everyone was British by birth while Jin was a foreigner in their eyes. You hoped this mere fact wouldn’t make the others snobbish toward him. You didn’t know if you had the patience for such insolence. 

You opened your mouth to introduce yourself to the others, but Jin beat you to it saying, “This is my lovely fiancée, Ms. y/n l/n.” 

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your sockets. Fiancée?! Why the bloody hell did he need to tell them that for?! It had nothing to do with anything! You whipped your gaze frantically to meet his own. Was he out of his mind? Was he trying to compromise the mission?! Even Jungkook gave Jin a bewildered glance out of the corner of his eyes, as if he couldn’t figure out why on earth the elder pulled a stunt like that.

Hoping that no one got suspicious by your panicked reaction, you quickly whined, “Honey, don’t tell them that! You know how flustered I get when you mention things like this.”

Ms. Hopkins released a small coo upon hearing Jin’s announcement. She placed a hand over her heart as a sign of how touched she was. “Congratulations! I how you have a happy and healthy marriage.” She then raised her glass for a toast. “For the future bride and groom.”

Everyone repeated her words and clinked their glasses together before taking a sip. You drained the remaining contaminants quickly, not caring if anyone gave you an awkward stare. Forget the awful taste of the champagne, you needed alcohol in your system now. Jin glanced at you curiously out of the corner of his eye before releasing a small, faint chuckle.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Mr. Collins began with an inquisitive gleam in his beady eyes, “how did you come to meet each other?”

See, this was why Jin shouldn’t have said this in the first place, because now you were going to have to dig deeper into this lie. Before the millionaire could get a single word out of his mouth, you answered, “We met during one of the rebel protests against the passage of the Public Safety Bill and the Trade Disputes Bill. I was a reporter for the Gazette, and he was on a business venture with some of the marketers here. We somehow got caught up in the protests, and he managed to get me to safety after the bomb was thrown.” You then sighed wistfully for effect, making you seem like a lovesick fool. “The rest is history…”

“How chivalrous of you, Mr. Kim,” Mr. Foster commented with a small chortle before taking another drink of his champagne.

You didn’t fail to notice the eye roll Ms. Dixon attempted to hide. It seemed she had her sights set on him tonight it seemed. You assumed she was a hired escort for Mr. Collins. After all, the man with the mustache seemed quite a few years her senior, and she didn’t appear to be the type of woman who would waste her time on someone like him unless she got something out of it. She was going to be quite a handful to deal with, you expected.

Jin moved his arm so that it snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. You definitely seemed like the picturesque image of the madly in love couple that everyone envied. Let’s hope that this whole story didn’t come to bite you in the rear. If it did, you were going to give Jin a piece of your mind.

“I couldn’t just let a lovely lady get injured in the madness,” he confessed charmingly. His face beheld emotions of complete fondness and tenderness for you. He seemed he was ready to get down on his knees and worship the ground you walk on. Such warmth and devotion radiated from his body that you almost doubled back in wonder.

Damn, he really was a good actor.

You playfully smacked him in his ribs with a bright smile adorning your face. “Oh, stop, you…” you giggled, looking down to obscure your bashful face. “You’re just trying it get me all muddled up, aren’t you?”

Jin sighed in a dramatic fashion. “Damn, you’ve figured me out.” You weren’t sure if he was merely acting or not. Something about the tone in his voice made it almost believable. “You know that I can’t resist seeing you all bothered.”

You smacked him again, but this time you hit him a little harder than before due to the annoyance that bubbled within you. You heard Jin release a tiny ‘oof’ at the sharp jab you gave him in the ribs but continued to smile cheerfully at the other guests. Served him right for throwing you into this mess of a situation. If he pulled something like this again, you were going to box his ears.

Mr. Collins stroked his bushy mustache thoughtfully as his eyes eventually landed on Jungkook hovering behind you and Jin, his face as emotionless as the paintings that riddled the walls. Mr. Collins’ equally bushy eyebrows shot up curiously and gestured to the much younger man. “And who is this fine, young gentleman here, dare I ask?” he wondered in a chipper tone.

You gave Jungkook a mere glance before answering coolly, “Oh, pay him no heed. He’s just our guardian for tonight. What with the protests riots in motion, we didn’t want to risk the possibility of any rebels jumping us tonight.” You smiled to the gentleman with a cheerful twinkle in your eyes, emitting a trustful and innocent aura from you. “I’m sure you understand our caution, Mr. Collins.”

“You must tell me where you hired such a man,” Ms. Dixon implored in a sultry tone, looking Jungkook up and down with a dark glint in her eyes. You resisted the urge to retch at the sight. You were somewhat relieved that she no longer lusted for Jin, but you rather she didn’t yearn for either men at your side.

“Oh, before I forget to ask such a thing,” Ms. Hopkins butted in, ignoring Ms. Dixon’s immodest comment. “Do you perchance know of our special guest that came here tonight? I hear he is another oriental. Maybe you two bumped into each other sometime ago?”

You and Jin both smiled and sighed in relief inwardly. She must be talking about Namjoon. You knew that the historian came to the gala a few hours ahead of you two to avoid arousing suspicion, but unfortunately neither of you had spotted him in the crowds. He must be in deep discussion with some of the other guests.

In a mirthful voice, he answered, “Ah, I believe you’re speaking of my colleague, Namjoon Kim. Yes, he wrote to me saying that he was also attending-”

“Oh, no, no, no!” Ms. Hopkins interrupted, waving her gloved hand in the air as if to sweep what your ‘fiancé’ just said away. “This is a different foreigner! I believe his name was… Oh, I forget what it was! Darling, do you remember what his name was?” She turned to her partner, Mr. Foster, for help in the situation.

You felt the smile slowly drop from your face along with Jin’s as a deep sense of dread and fear settled among the three of you. There was someone else here? Another foreigner that supposedly Jin could know? You glanced up at the millionaire, and, although he remained calm and composed, you knew that a storm of emotions raged within him, ready to wear him down to the bone. Your mind instantly went to the chance that perhaps someone from the Japanese government managed to track you here, but you knew very well that Jin put a lot of money and effort to cover everyone’s tracks.

Mr. Foster pondered for a few moments, mentally searching for the name that was on the tip of his tongue. His finger tapped against his glass in deep thought as deep hum resonated from his throat. “I believe it was… Oh, I know it… It’s… Virgil…? No… Vante! That’s it!” He cried out triumphantly while his partner cheered and praised him for his good memory.

Meanwhile, the calm exterior on Jin’s face slowly faded into a slightly annoyed frown. A soft scoff past through his lips before his recomposed himself with a polite smile. His smile was strained, you noticed, as if someone told him a very poor joke. “Vante?” He paused to contemplate the name but just ended up shaking his head. “No, I don’t believe I know the man. Is he from Korea?”

Mr. Foster simply shrugged his shoulders casually. “I don’t know. I never bothered to look into him. You foreigners all look the same to me; it’s hard for me to tell the difference.” He chuckled to himself and the other couples before continuing, “All I really know about him is that he is an excellent artist. I show really look into buying a painting or two from him. That way I can appear to be a more cultured businessman.”

Jin’s smile became even more strained the longer the man went on. For a moment, you thought that his fingers were going to snap the steam of his glass in two. However, he just lifted the glass to the man as a gesture of respect. However, you knew that your partner had little respect for the fellow businessman. “A smart move, Mr. Foster.”

Mr. Collins then went into a harangue about the many pieces of art and literature that he obtained from his travels across the world, in which Ms. Dixon tried her very hardest to appear interested in what her companion had to say. You took this opportunity to lean into Jin’s ear and whispered quietly into his ear, “You know this ‘Vante’, don’t you?”

Jin never directed his attention away from Mr. Collins as he softly replied, “Yes, I do, and you know him as well. Even Jungkook knows him.”

You furrowed your eyebrows confusedly at his response. You glanced at your bodyguard, who was searching around him for someone in particular. You figured it was this Vante that had them on edge. Turning back to Jin, you further prodded, “Alright then, mind telling me who he is then?”

Jin opened his mouth to answer when Jungkook stepped in and alerted him, “Jin, there he is. Would you like me to confront him?”

You and Jin followed Jungkook’s small gesture toward where the infamous artist stood. Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor as you recognized the figure.  Your thoughts scrambled together to form some sort of a complete sentence. A whirlwind of emotions went through you at that moment. Bewilderment. Shock. Disbelief. You had to blink a few times to confirm that what you saw wasn’t a trick of the eye. However, it soon became apparent that you, indeed, knew this man. He was the last person you expected to be here at the gala.

The man standing a few meters away, admiring a painting with deep interest, was Taehyung. What was he doing here?! He could jeopardize the whole mission!

“No, don’t,” Jin answered, snapping you from your dazed thoughts. “A bodyguard confronting him will only get everyone’s attention and rouse suspicion. I’ll go talk to him.”

Before he made a move in Taehyung, you placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “No, no, stay here. I’ll go talk to Tae,” you insisted. When Jin opened his mouth to protest, you continued, “You’re better at sweet-talking your way in to getting everyone on your side. You should carry on doing that while I speak with our lovely demolition expert.”

The millionaire contemplated what you said for a few seconds but sighing in defeat. He glanced around him, watching the people around him to see if anyone was spying on you, and took your hand on his chest and gave it a comforting squeeze, as if to wish you luck. “Act like you don’t know him if anyone comes by, and be careful of what you say. We don’t want him ruining the mission.”

You gave him a reassuring nod before turning back toward the lovely, yet rather boring, couples. “Will you excuse me, everyone? I think I’m going to get another glass.” You didn’t wait for their responses as you stormed over to ‘Vante’. Your bewilderment and confusion faded away into anger and frustration. Just what was he trying to pull here?!

You smoothly strode up to his side, rolling your shoulders to readjust your fur shawl. A wave of confidence came over you as you stood next to him and began to examine the painting with him. Of course, the painting was Indian in design, and the image beheld a group of young men and women dancing together in a merry dance with hundreds of flowers surrounding them. The painting was beautiful, to say at the very least. You knew why it was the source of Taehyung’s interest.

“What brings you to this event, Vante?” you spoke aloud, catching his attention from the colorful image. “This isn’t exactly an art gallery.” You turned to stare at him with an enraged and accusatory glare. 

Taehyung’s eyes lit up with recognition as they fell upon you, and his lips quickly formed that boxy smile that would usually have you smiling as well. However, you were too furious to be smiling back at him. “Ms. l/n! I didn’t know you’d be here. If I had known, I would have dressed to impress you,” he admitted, his eyes glinting with a mischievous gleam.

Your eyes quickly took in his attire. He wore a khaki suit that fit him like a glove with a scarlet tie to match. In fact, now that you looked closer, his red tie was the same shade as your dress, meaning that he planned to match his clothing with yours. Cheeky bastard, he already planned this little stunt to begin with! You scowled with a soft growl. “What are you doing here, Taehyung?” you demanded quietly. “You’re supposed to ready to take out the guards with Jimin. That was the plan.”

“And it’s still the plan, sweetcheeks,” he asserted, bringing his attention back to the painting. He remained poised despite the fact that you were ready to rip his head off. “Jimin is going to take care of the guards outside while I take care of the ones in here. I already counted four in this very room at each exit.”

Sure enough, when you broke your gaze away from him, you saw tall men in black suits hanging around each exit of the room, watching each and every visitor with the eyes of a hawk. As much as you hated to admit it, he did have a point. If you managed to get your hands on the kobae, any one of those guards would be waiting to take you down like an adrenaline crazy American football player in a matter of seconds. 

“And do you have any wonderful ideas as to how you’re going to take them out all at once?” you asked bitterly. “The blackout isn’t going to provide you enough time to just knock them all out.”

Taehyung rocked himself back and forth on the heels of his brown leather shoes with an all-too-pleased smile stretched across his lips. “I have a few ideas, in fact,” he answered, swirling his champagne in his glass casually. “The one that will work the most efficiently is where I don’t take them all out, but instead I provide a path for you to escape. I’ve numbered the doors one, two, three, and four respectively.” He lifted his hand to point at the different openings he dubbed in a relaxed manner to avoid any suspicion. “All you have to do is signal me when the lights go out, subtly-” He gave you a pointed look to emphasize the word. “- and then I will incapacitate the guard at that exit.”

You arched an eyebrow in slight surprise. He certainly thought this through. “And if the other guards see you?” you questioned in an austere tone.

“With any luck they’ll be too busy containing the crowds who will be in an absolute panic.” He lifted his glass to his lips and took a thoughtful sip from the light golden liquid.

“Wouldn’t it be suspicious if the others found their fellow guard unconscious?”

“I said I would incapacitate them. That doesn’t mean I’m resorting to violence.” He turned to give you a sly smile, one that caused your stomach to flutter with butterflies and your cheeks to heat up. “There are other ways to distract someone, Ms. l/n.”

No! Don’t get flustered by that goddamn smirk, you cried to yourself. That’s the reaction he wants!

To distract yourself from his smug smirk, you glanced over to the nearest clock to see how much time you had left. It was currently 20:25, and Yoongi said that he was going to cut the wire at 22:30, giving everyone enough time to get a little tipsy and, therefore, unaware of what occurred around them. Ugh, that meant you had to deal with another two hours of this unnecessary bullshit.

Turning back to the situation at hand, you took another look at Taehyung’s attire. He certainly appeared to be very chic and in style. Where on earth did he get the money to buy such a luxurious suit? “So, you chose your disguise to be a famous artist, is that it?” you asked curiously.

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows in confusion for a few seconds, making you wonder if you said anything strange. Did he actually forget what his cover was? He then began to chuckle in an amused manner, his eyes slightly wrinkling under the smile. “I thought that you worked at an international news company? Shouldn’t you know? I suppose your company only covers stories that affect your country.” When your face slipped into a puzzled expression, he proceeded, “Do you actually think that my main job is to blow stuff up?”

“It… isn’t?” Suddenly, it all clicked together. All the puzzle pieces fell into place. You could barely believe it yourself. How could you be so stupid! “Wait… this isn’t a made-up cover story? You’re actually an artist?” You felt like someone managed to prove to you with factual evidence that the sky was actually green instead of blue. 

His smile broadened as he brought his drink to his lips. “The market doesn’t have many jobs available for demolition experts unfortunately. I have to do something to pay the bills.” He then took a long drink, and you watched his adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed. “Yes, I create paintings, sculptures, and sometimes calligraphy for a living, although the Japanese government keeps pressuring me to create propaganda art for them.” His voice had suddenly turned bitter and harsh as he recalled unwanted memories.

“And the demolition stuff?” you inquired, still in shock with this new information.

“It’s something I do as a hobby,” he revealed, his tone still grim. You weren’t sure if you’d call blowing things up as a hobby, but you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt for once. 

You recalled the memory of Taehyung watching the armored vehicle explode in a blaze of fire and destruction with longing and wonder. You had brushed it off as Taehyung being himself, but now that instance made sense. “I suppose your artistic side comes out in those instances as well.”

“There is a sense of beauty in the destruction of something else. A paradox, I know, but beauty comes in many forms, not only in the creation of an object.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly as your round eyes glanced away. “I guess you learn something new everyday,” you joked. Catching a server walking by with a platter of empty glasses on it, you snuck yours with the others, hoping that your rushed action wouldn’t cause it to stumble and crash to the floor. “The Japanese are making you create propaganda?”

Taehyung snorted with an intense look in his eyes, a hidden fire blazing behind the dark orbs. “I haven’t made anything for them so far, even though my mailbox is full of threats and bribes from them.” His jaw clenched tightly and his grasp on his glass harden.

“They’re sending you threats?!” you exclaimed in a harsh whisper. Just how horrible was this government?

“Against me. Against my family. Against my friends. The list goes on...”

You swallowed back your obvious concern and glanced around before finally saying, “If they’re threatening you and everyone around you, then perhaps the safest route to take is to merely give in to their wishes. After all, you would only have to make posters, right?”

Suddenly he then got very close to you, his teeth gritting and nostrils flaring in an explosive rage. Your heart nearly lept from your chest at his abrupt aggressive nature. Looking into his eyes, you felt like you were staring into the eyes of a man ready to commit murder. In a growled voice, he snarled, “I absolutely refuse to create anything promoting the very government that encourages the sexual slavery, murder, torture, and subjugation of my people as if they were mere pigs being led to the slaughterhouse. They look down their noses at us from their palaces while we grovel in the dirt eating rotten and maggot-filled scrapings. Do you have any idea what it’s like coming home to find your sister on the ground beaten and sobbing because those monsters-”

His furious and hateful tirade was unexpectedly interrupted by the sound of his drink shattering in his hand from how hard his fingers gripped around the delicate glass. The tiny shards exploded and fell to the ground like diamonds glittering in the light. The champagne spilled all over his hand and into a puddle onto the floor.

The crowd surrounding you and Taehyung let out a collected gasp of shock and slight horror. The room became deadly silent, as if the slightest sound would result in the execution of someone. Some of the people parted their lips in shock while others just froze in their spots, watching Taehyung for his next move. You, too, were frozen in your spot from the shock of what just occurred.

Suddenly, Taehyung burst into laughter as if someone just pranked him. To be honest, his outburst only made him more unhinged in your eyes. He gave you a boxy smile before redirecting his attention to the large crowds waiting for an explanation. “These are some flimsy glasses if I ever saw some.” He shook his hand to be rid of the liquid sticking to his clothes and skin. “I guess I don’t know my own strength sometimes.”

The crowds then chuckled amusedly along and soon returned to their conversations while a servant came in with a broom and a few rags to clean up the mess. Taehyung then urged you to move away from the wandering eyes and the mess. You left the area and entered a room where people examined the artifacts that were recovered in the latest archeological dig. You wondered if the kobae was in the very same room.

Once you and Taehyung settled in the room, you smacked him straight in the ribs. The artist stumbled back a step and clutched his side while squeezing his eyes shut for a mere moment. He groaned in pain while you unleashed your fury onto him. “Control yourself, Tae! We don’t need people being wary of us because someone can’t control their emotions!” you scolded, your fists clenched at your sides. “First you act on your own without telling anyone else on the team and then you overreact- Gah!”

During you ranting, you threw your arms in the air in exasperation, and, in doing so, moved your injured arm. Pain sharply shot your arm as if someone dug a knife into the tender muscle. It nearly knocked the air out of your lungs. Your other hand clutched the source of the pain tightly as your eyes slammed shut, your teeth gritting together as small groans of agony slipped through your lips. 

Taehyung instantly went to your side and shielded you away from prying eyes that happened to look your way. All emotions of anger and rage instantly fell from his face and was replaced with deep concern for your well-being. “Y/n!” he whispered worryingly. “Are you okay? Do you need to step outside?”

You inhaled a quick, sharp breath as the pain began to slowly ebb away. Your eyes peeled themselves open reluctantly as your body soon relaxed slightly. “I’m fine,” you replied, exhaling gradually. “I’m just sick of this bloody arm hurting all the time.”

“Just remember not to move it too much,” he reminded, looking around to see if anyone had spied the incident. Once he deemed it to be safe, he turned back and gave you a small smile. “You yell at me for nearly causing a scene due to my anger, but yet you do the exact same thing and end up hurting yourself.”

You huffed annoyedly, mostly because he had a point. “Don’t rub it in,” you grumbled, slowly letting your arm fall to your side. 

His smile grew a tiny bit sadder. “Just be careful, alright? You’re injured enough as it is.”

You nodded slowly, averting your gaze from him. “I will…” Your voice trailed off as your thoughts returned to Taehyung’s small outburst. You never seen eyes so full of rage and fury. Just thinking about them made shivers crawl down your spine. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like living in such horrendous conditions, being treated less than human. He mentioned a sister who was beaten and crying. Your reporter instincts wanted to know the full story behind his sister to get a better understanding of who the demolition expert really was. “About your sister… Whatever happened to her, I’m sorry.”

Taehyung’s features hardened very slightly at the mention of his sister, his cheek catching between his teeth as he bit down on the soft flesh. “Don’t apologize. You had nothing to do with what happened to her.”

“I know.” You paused to sigh quietly to yourself. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He slowly shook his head. “No, at least not now, not when people could hear us.”

You silently agreed with him. Although the champagne flowed from the bottle freely at this point in the gala, the guests hadn’t had quite enough alcohol to dull the senses and their memory yet. Looking at the clock once more, you saw that it read 21:05. You still had quite an amount of time left until the planned blackout. Ugh, why was time moving so painfully slow? 

“So, Ms. l/n,” Taehyung began, feeling the awkward tension rising between the two of you. He must have wanted to change the subject, since obviously the one beforehand was a touchy one. “What about you? What brings a lovely lady like yourself to this event?” Ah, so he wanted to play pretend while there were others around.

Thinking over the words you practiced so many times before coming to this godforsaken gala, you answered with a polite and friendly smile, “I’m working on an article for the Gazette about this exhibit opening and the artifacts found during the archeological dig.”

The artist faked deep interest by quirking up an eyebrow and smiling. “Oh? Doesn’t a journalist need to take notes on names, quotes, and different artifacts here? Or do you supposedly have a good memory?” he questioned innocently. Really? This was how he was going to act?

With an annoyed sigh and an eye roll, you revealed your clutch bag from under your fur shawl and clicked it open. There was no need for any of this. He knew fully well what you had inside your clutch, what was even the point of this? You took out your pocket notebook complete with a pen strapped to its cover and showed it to him while glowering. “I am taking notes from tonight.” That was a lie. The scribblings and writings inside the little notebook were notes taken for a different exhibit opening you were writing for back in London. You were merely using them again for when people began to ask questions… much like this unnecessary moment.

“May I take a look?” he asked, his tone turning slightly playful.

“No,” you flatly replied. Dropping the notebook back into your clutch, you snapped it shut and hid it under your fur shawl once more. Little did people know that along with the notebook and makeup in your clutch, you also had a little pocket pistol in case everything went south. You dearly hoped that you wouldn’t have to resort to using the concealed weapon. “All the information I have in here is confidential until the article is released to the public.” You then sighed exasperatedly from how ridiculous this all was. “Why are you making me do this? You already know everything about this.”

The demolition expert shrugged his shoulders casually, as if you only asked his what his favorite animal was. “Just making sure you remember your lines. After all, like you say, we can’t afford any slip-ups.”

You knew that remembering your lines was the least of your problems. What was at the top of your list was making sure that everyone around you didn’t step out of line. “I practiced my part for hours before coming here. Right now, I’m the least of your worries,” you replied, taking a rather large gulp from your champagne glass.

“Just being cautious.”

“Maybe you should listen to your own advice.”

Taehyung snickered at how blunt and curt you were acting and smoothly took a step toward you. “Speaking of reporters, is there any way I could persuade you to interview me? I have a lot of things I want to say.”

You arched an eyebrow in confusion by his question. “Do you now? Please, share your feelings with me.” In all honesty, you were only playing along for the sake of blending in with the crowd. If it were up to you, you would’ve just plainly refused again.

Taehyung’s smile turned slightly mischievous as he took another step. “For starters, I think there’s a treasure here I think is beautifuller than all the other artifacts combined,” he began.

He must be talking about the kobae, you assumed. “Can you please elaborate for me, Mr. Vante?” you interviewed innocently, completely oblivious to what he was secretly insinuating.

Suddenly, his arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling your body against his. A sharp, astonished gasp passed through your lips as you quickly balanced your glass in hand so the bubbly liquid wouldn’t spill over the edges. You felt his warm embrace bundle you up like a curtain of comfort. In an instant, your cheeks burned up with flustered heat. Your eyes were as round as a doe’s eyes as your chest suddenly tightened. 

Taehyung smirked upon seeing your flustered state and hummed to himself in approval. “Well, this beautiful masterpiece dons the most beautiful shade of red. I always did love using red in my own works. It symbolizes power, strength, passion... “ His voice trailed off as he cupped your chin between his thumb and finger and tilted it up to meet his hungry gaze. “Lust…”

“Taehyung…” you whispered, your voice quiet and airy. 

“In fact,” he continued, preventing you from finishing your sentence, “if I seem to recall correctly, I made a promise to you that I haven’t fulfilled yet. Do you remember it, by chance?”

Oh no, you had a feeling you knew what he was talking about…

When you didn’t answer, his smirk widened and his grip on you tightened somewhat. “Judging by your expression, I’d say you do.” He chuckled huskily, his rumbling chest vibrating against your body. “I promised that I’d make you scream my name over and over again. Unfortunately I haven’t exactly kept to my promise because a little someone keeps avoiding me. Why is that?” He brought his face closer to yours as his eyes momentarily flickered down to your lips before bringing them back to meet yours. “Do I really make you that nervous? Do you squirm just at the thought of me?”

Suddenly you sensed many pairs of eyes looming from behind you. Out of the corners of your eye, you noticed how people began to watch you with curious and confused glances. Oh no, no no no, everyone was going to assume the absolute worst if you continued to be held in his arms like a hustler. You quickly pulled away from his grasp, earning a small groan of disappointment. “Mr. Vante, please, I’m engaged,” you protested blatantly, hoping your loud tone would dispel everyone’s assumptions.

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up at lightning speed, bewilderment etched onto every inch of his face. His lips parted as if to ask for you to elaborate; but before the words could leave his mouth, you gestured to Jin who was loudly laughing at a poor joke someone said. You noticed the smaller group had become larger since you left to confront Taehyung. Damn, Jin really knew how to charm people.

Taehyung relaxed slightly, catching onto what you were insinuating. His stiff posture loosened from the stress that had it taut. A small sigh of relief slipped through his lips in a drawn out breath. In a flash, his composure flipped like a switch. A smile pulled at the corners of his lips, however the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m sure your fiancé wouldn’t notice if we slipped off to an isolated hallway. He seems to be rather busy entertaining others.” He then tutted playfully, his eyes boring into yours with a dark fire smoldering in them. “Leaving his beloved where anyone could snatch her up. How irresponsible of him.”

You swallowed a lump caught in your throat as you snapped your gaze from his, feeling goosebumps raking up and down your arms and spine from the intensity of his eyes. “I don’t need people watching over me,” you retorted in a quiet murmur. “I can take care of myself.”

He hummed thoughtfully at your reply, eyes taking in your appearance. However, he seemed to be taking his time with looking you up and down like you were a wrapped up present waiting to be unraveled. You furrowed your eyebrows, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious, and fixed your shawl to that it covered your body more. “What are you doing?” you demanded, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear.

“Just thinking about how lovely you would look with your dress on my bedroom floor and your body underneath me, all needy and whiny and begging me to give you some release.” He chuckled huskily and tilted his head to the side. “Wouldn’t that be a delicious sight?”

He said it so casually that your brain didn’t register it at first until you finally processed his words. In that moment, you exploded in a fit of embarrassment, your cheeks flaring up in a burst of heat. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but you could muster were choked words and stutters. It felt as if all coolness left the room in an instant and was replaced with humid, hot air. You needed to breathe, to get some relief from what he said.

“I- I’m going to find my f-fiancé. I… um…” You stumbled around, unsure of where Jin had wandered off to. Bollocks, where the bloody hell was he when you needed him? With fiery cheeks and sweaty palms, you whipped your body around a few more times before stammering, “I… I’m just going to… yes…” With that, you scurried off like a little mouse.

Taehyung smirked to himself watching you run off so flustered and speechless. Even after Hoseok and Jimin got a taste of you, you were still so innocent and cute when faced with such sensual whisperings. Oh yes, he knew all about your little escapades with those two. He past by your door waiting for Hoseok to leave so he could fulfill his promise; but instead he heard the breathy moans and cries of pleasure through your door, and so he decided to let Hoseok have a little fun with you before his turn. He was a patient man, after all.

However, he was quite surprised to see you and Jimin on the couch in a heated makeout session the next morning. He shouldn’t have been so shocked. Naturally, when Jimin wanted something, he wasn’t going to wait idly by. He was going to go after it. Taehyung could still see the face you made when Jimin kissed you just right, and the moans, oh, the moans were like music to his ears. The image of you writhing in the pleasure that Jimin was giving you, oh, that was art. He remembered palming himself secretly while watching Jimin mark your beautiful skin. How he wanted to paint your skin with the most beautiful colors. Maybe he will later tonight when you two are alone, that is, if everyone is still alive then.

You fanned yourself with much fervor, needing the nice breeze that you were producing to cool down your hot skin. Your mind replayed Taehyung’s words over and over again. What game was he playing? Was he trying to get you to have a heart-attack? Why did he insist to make your heart pound in your chest and your nerves to go sky-rocketing into the atmosphere?

You weaved through the crowds like a needle weaving through fabrics until you miraculously caught sight of Jin. You thanked God and then quickly made your way over to him. You hoped that the heat in your cheeks died down and your appearance didn’t show how flustered you were. The last thing you needed right now was Jin and Jungkook to whisper teasing remarks in your ear. 

“Darling!” you called out, a bright smile replacing the bashful and embarrassed expression that was etched onto your face moments ago. 

Jin turned around at the sound of your voice and gave you a cheerful smile of his own. Seeing him with such a warm smile on his face made your anxious nerves instantly die down. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that he was pretending to be your soon-to-be husband? Jin wandered away from the group to take your hand in his. “How is my dear doing this evening?” he asked considerately before placing a sweet kiss on your hand.

“I am doing splendidly,” you answered, your heart fluttering ever-so-slightly at his action. “There’s someone I think you should meet, darling.” You weren’t referring to Taehyung, but you just needed the excuse to pull him away from the crowds so you could fill him in on what the artist disclosed to you.

“Really? Well, if you insist.” He quickly turned back to the people he just became friends with and bid them farewell before following you through the crowds. Jungkook followed as well subtly, not drawing any unwanted attention to himself, as according to the plan.

Once you were away from the large crowds, you revealed to the millionaire, “Tae just told me that he’s here to take care of the guards inside so that they don’t get in the way when we make our move.”

Jin rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. His jaw clenched for a mere moment as his lips tightened into a thin line. He really was going to give Taehyung a ranting or two when this was all over. “It would’ve been nice if he informed everyone first instead of going off on his own,” he grumbled, his hand smoothing back his hair.

You had to admit, he looked really nice with his hair slicked back.

You nodded your head in agreement, ignoring that absent-minded thought that blossomed into your mind. “I think so, too, but just be happy that he didn’t decide to ditch the plan.”

Jin scoffed humorlessly. “That would’ve been the cherry on top, wouldn’t it be?”

Jungkook suddenly butted into your conversation and said, “Look! The kobae!”

Both of your heads snapped in the direction Jungkook was looking. You eyes were met with the sight of a simple, wide, stone bowl sitting on a pedestal with guests merely looking at it for a second before directing their attention to the artifacts. You didn’t know what you were expecting, to be honest. You knew that a bowl this old wouldn’t be exactly magnificent, but you certainly weren’t expecting it to be so… plain.

“Perfect,” Jin spoke up, snapping you from your thoughts. “We just need to get into position and wait for the blackout.” 

Jin then ushered to you to where the plan called for you two to stand, in a corner nearby two exits where the two of you could easily make your escape. Anxiety bubbled within your stomach, causing you to feel slightly nauseous. No slip-ups. No mistakes. Otherwise, that was it. It was all over.

“Mr. Kaneki, is that you?”

The hand that was gripping yours suddenly tightened, as if something scared your partner. You looked up to Jin to see his eyes as round as saucer plates. He was deadly still, as if the slightest movement would result in his execution. A shaky, quiet breath passed through his lips as his hand slowly trembled in yours. For a mere moment, you thought you saw his fearful eyes water up with concealed tears. 

“Jin?” you murmured quietly, your voice laced with deep concern. What made him so scared? “You looked like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Not a ghost, a demon.” His eyes flickered to Jungkook subtly. “You need to hide.”

Jungkook nodded without a protest and quickly exited the scene, blending in with the crowds like a chameleon blending into its surroundings. Just like that, your bodyguard slipped away from your sights. By God, did that boy certainly know how to sneak away.

Jin suddenly turned around and replaced his terror with a polite and friendly mask. You tried your best to match his mask, but the confusion was very apparent on your face. “Mr. Akimoto! What a pleasant surprise! I never would have expected you to be here.”

An older man, who was a bit shorter than Jin, stood before you, and your heart sank in the deepest pits of dread upon seeing him. Based off of his appearance and Jin’s cryptic comment, you assumed that the man hailed from Japan, and the uniform he wore with great pride revealed that this man was a governmental official. Not only this, but he wasn’t alone. Four other men wearing the same bloody uniform stood by his side with curious looks on their wrinkled faces.

Fucking bollocks, God must really have something against you.

Mr. Akimoto arched an eyebrow in confusion and hidden agitation, as if Jin was a rude, spoiled brat who pointed out his balding head to everyone. “I was about to ask you the very same thing. I wasn’t informed that you were out of the country,” he acknowledged, his tone grim.

Jin, however, remained pleasant despite the obvious contempt the man held against him. “Really? Perhaps the paperwork I signed hasn’t transferred yet?” An obvious lie.

“Are you suggesting that the government is incompitant, Mr. Kaneki?” Mr. Akimoto demanded, his jaw clenched tightly.

The millionaire smiled courteously, although it was slightly strained, and replied, “Of course not, Mr. Akimoto. Forgive me for my disrespect.”

Mr. Akimoto nodded brusquely, a hum rumbling in his throat similar to a snake’s hiss. “You are forgiven, chōsenjin.” He then glanced over to you, looking at you as if you were an annoyance and nuisance. You didn’t know what, but the few seconds you shared staring at each other felt like you were staring into the eyes of a viper. Any moment he could lash out and bury his fangs into you. “And who is this young woman you have with you?”

Although his question was polite, you knew the meaning behind it was not. He might as well have called you a whore or a complete waste of space. “I’m Ms. l/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you introduced yourself with a slight bow of the head. 

“She is with me as my accompaniment,” Jin explained curtly immediately after your introduction. You figured that was his way of saying ‘don’t tell them anything else’.

Mr. Akimoto raised his eyebrows in complete surprise, his aged forehead wrinkling deeply. “Ah, I did not know a man of such… stock would be making an appearance to this gala. And mixing with a foreigner no less. How brave of you,” he replied, looking you both up and down.

Well, shite, Mr. Akimoto certainly wasn’t worried about possibly offending anyone. Anger bubbled within you and rushed through your veins like hot fire. How dare he say such rude and insulting words to Jin! And to you, nevertheless! What, were you cattle in his eyes? Oh, how you wanted to slap the old bastard across the face before strangling him. You, however, contained your anger by slowly exhaling through your nose quietly, releasing all the tension that began to build up within you. 

“You know me, gentlemen,” he began, lightly gesturing to the others at Akimoto’s side, “I was never one to be afraid to do what I want.” His grip on your hand tightened, but this time it wasn’t from fear. Rather, you could sense the smoldering fury that ready to suddenly explode.

“Such arrogance could be your downfall, Mr. Kaneki,” the old fart remarked. “If I were in your position, I’d be more watchful of myself.”

“I don’t view it as arrogance, Mr. Akimoto,” you suddenly cut in, keeping your tone light and genteel. “Rather, I believe that we should have more men like Mr. Kim, men who are determined and dauntless.”

For a few seconds, you and Mr. Akimoto held each other’s gaze, both full of contempt and hidden rage. The stronger and fiercer his gaze pierced yours, you merely intensified your own glare, icy and cold like a blizzard. The longer you stood in his presence, the more you wanted to bash his face with a nearby chair. You knew, from what Jin had told you, that the Japanese government was full of self-righteous and prejudiced men who looked down on the Korean people that they subjugated under their wills, but you couldn’t get over the fact that they said such horrible things without a second thought. Did they really think so low of those who were not of their own nation?

Suddenly, a plate bearing several glasses of champagne appeared in front of your face held by a smiling, cheerful waiter. “Would any of you like some more champagne?” he asked in a chirper tone. 

“Yes, please,” Jin almost groaned as he quickly snatched up a glass. 

Without even a moment of hesitation, he took a large, prolonged gulp of the golden liquid. You watched his adam’s apple bob in his throat as he nearly downed the entire glass. You supposed the millionaire was under an extreme amount of stress currently and desperately needed something to take the edge off. 

At the rate Jin was draining his glass, you figured someone needed to stay somewhat sober. After all, you already had enough alcohol in your system thanks to the stress Taehyung put you under. You politely declined the waiter’s request, and the young man kindly bowed his head before scurrying off to satisfy another’s needs. Your eyes followed him weaving through the crowds before the rude, old man caught your attention by saying, “I’m afraid to say that your partner no longer goes by the name Kim Seokjin.” Although his gaze was still hard, you didn’t fail to notice the faintest hint of a smug smirk on his dry, thin lips.

What? What the bloody hell was he talking about? You brought your attention to Jin’s face, bewilderment and shock written all over your face. His face held a stoic expression, although you noted the dull gleam of grief and anguish in his eyes. He swallowed hard, as if he were swallowing back the tears that threatened to spill. However, he remained strong.

“I noticed you kept calling him Mr. Kaneki,” you reluctantly commented, finally tearing your gaze away from Jin’s.

“Yes, I’m sure that you know about how Korea conceded to Japan a few years back. Since Korea is now apart of the Japanese empire, we believe that its citizens should also take on Japanese traits. We’re trying to experiment with having Korean citizens change their names to fit our language. That way we avoid any confusion and conflict with customs and laws,” he explained with a content smile on his aged face. “I personally oversaw Mr. Kaneki’s process to change his name. In governmental and medical documentation his name is Kaneki Daiki.”

You nodded your head in understanding followed by a pleasant smile. However, inside a storm of fury and horror rage within you. You couldn’t believe your ears. The government was forcing people to change their names just so it fitted their needs? What kind of misanthropic, dictatorial, fanatical person would come up with something so tyrannical?!

“Ah, I see,” you responded, pouring all of your willpower into trying to not grab your pistol from your clutch and placing a bullet right in between his eyes. “I’ll try to remember that in the future.”

“Yes, if you please excuse us,” Jin began, already guiding you away from the group of despicable men, “there are some friends I haven’t spoken to yet and I wish to do so before it gets late.”

“Of course, I almost forgot. I heard that your colleague Kim Namjoon is here, as well as that rebellious Kim Taehyung,” he jeered venomously, but then recomposed himself to a more civilized manner. “If you do happen to come across any of them, please inform us as soon as possible.” His expression then darkened as did his eyes. “You know it is your civic duty.”

“I wouldn’t even think of anything else,” Jin replied before sweeping you away from the pit of snakes. A long, tired sigh slipped through his lips as exhaustion settled on his beautiful features. His long legs quickly carried the two of you away with you almost stumbling behind. “That was too close.”

“I thought you covered up our tracks!” you panickedly whispered. “What are Japanese officials doing here at an exhibit opening?”

“I did!” Jin snapped harshly, his grip squeezing your hand almost painfully. “I… I don’t know how they found out we’re here. But what I do know is that we need to find Namjoon and Taehyung and warn them before they do right now.”

You frantically looked around for the historian, or even the artist at this point, your head jerking around in a panicked manner. “I haven’t seen Namjoon all night,” you notified him, and then a sudden thought popped into your mind.Your heart was suddenly sent racing as panic settled upon your being. “What about Jungkook? What if they find him?”

“Shit, I almost forgot about him.” He downed the remainings of his drink before placing it on an empty plate nearby. His hand rake itself through his hair as the stress began to weigh down on him. “If they find Kookie, then we’ll end up attending a public execution.”

Your eyes then blown up to the size of plates as your lips parted in alarm. Execution?! 

However, before you demand him to clarify, he pulled you into another room, almost full to the brim with people you could care less for at the moment. All your mind could focus on was the well-being of Namjoon, Taehyung, and Jungkook. Your eyes scoured through the crowds for any familiar faces, but all you could see was men and ladies dressed in ridiculous outfits and bedecked in gaudy jewelry. You were ready to shove someone to the side in desperation for the others.

Your heart pounded in your chest as your mind began to imagine the worst. You tried to shove those negative thoughts to the side, but that only made your anxiety worse. What if they were already captured by those men? What if they were already dead in some alley?

“I can’t believe they made you change your name!” you exclaimed. You needed something, anything, to distract yourself from imagining the dead bodies of the boys you’ve grown so close to. Even if the sudden topic brought back painful memories to Jin.

Jin paused his frantic rush through the crowds, his eyes peering around for any of the other boys. “‘Experimenting’, please, they left me with no fucking choice. It was either I changed my name or they executed me for treason,” he growled, his tone suddenly spiteful.

“They were going to execute you?!” you nearly cried out. 

There was a pause followed by a sigh. “That’s what happens when you start asking too many questions.”

Now instead of worrying about the others, your mind was suddenly concerned for Jin’s safety. What if those men decided to arrest Jin? For Christ’s sake, all of this stress was going to result in a heart-attack! “Asking questions about what?” you demanded, your eyes now trained on his back.

“I…” He stopped and looked into your eyes. You saw the desperation and agony that stormed in his eyes like a hurricane. He opened his mouth, wanting to spill everything to you, wanting to confide in you, wanting for you to wrap him up in comfort. But… not now…  he couldn’t. “I’ll explain everything to you later. Right now we need to focus on the others.”

“Jin!” you protested, ignoring the confused glances you were from everyone around you. 

“They didn’t like what I was doing. They needed to get rid of me. They needed to erase everything about me. They wanted to make me disappear. They took everything away from me, y/n… my family, my titles, my name… my identity… who I am...” He suddenly began panting heavily as if he just ran a marathon. At first, you figured it was from the amount of stress that was tumbling within him.

However, when he abruptly pulled you to the side into a dark hallway away from the lively crowds, you knew something was wrong. His footing became ragged and he stumbled all over the place, as if a haze of dizziness settled upon him. His ran another hand through his hair as his head lolled from side to side. Something wasn’t right.

He then suddenly pulled you forward and threw you against the wall. You yelped as your back came in contact with the cold, wooden wall. He then placed both of his hands on each side of your head, trapping you against the wall. Your round eyes bore into his half-lidded, hazy eyes. For a moment, you were afraid he would try to hurt you again, but instead, he pressed his sweaty forehead against yours. 

His hot, ragged breath fanned your face as his head began to lower slightly. As you angled your head to get a better view of his face, you noticed how unfocused and clouded his eyes were, as if he were trapped in a daze. What was going on? What was wrong with him? Was he sick? Was the anxiety of the whole situation getting to him? “Jin…?”

“Y/n…” he sighed, his hands slipping down until they met your shoulders. He then gripped your upper arms, as if he needed something to keep him upright. He inhaled and exhaled for the next few moments, his head dropping slowly before he would force it to rise again. All color to his smooth skin vanished and was now as white as snow. A coating of sweat gathered on his forehead and drops if it ran down his temples and the sides of his face. His hazy eyes finally contact with yours as his eyelids began to sink. “Something… something isn’t right.”

“Yeah, no, I can see that!” you exclaimed, feeling your own anxiety beginning to rise. “What do you need? Water? Air? Damnit, I knew we should’ve brought Hobi with us!”

A sigh escaped his lips as his face slowly contorted into that of pain. “I feel… I feel…” His head flopped to the side before he quickly brought it back up. “I don’t feel so good…” He stumbled for a few moments as if all of the muscles in his legs disappeared. You then saw an emotion flicker in his eyes for a long pause. Desperation. “Help… me…” With that, his eyes rolled to the back of his skull, and he lost all control of his muscles. He tipped forward, his lips brushing against yours for a mere seconds before he dropped to the floor.

You cried out in alarm as your arms shot out and hooked themselves under his armpits, preventing his skull from cracking against the marble floor. A sharp shot of pain ran up your injured arm like lightning, and you let out a loud groan of pain from how your arm throbbed. You groaned more as you strained to keep his body from collapsing as you slowly laid him out on the floor, his head resting against your lap.

Your eyes widened in complete and utter panic as your breathing began as ragged as his just moments before. This was bad. This was really bad. Jin was unconscious. You didn’t have Hoseok to check on him. What if he was dying? Maybe he just had a heart-attack or a stroke or some organ just failed? Your mind raced with a hundred different possibilities as tears began to well up in your eyes. This was all too much. All of the anxiety you faced throughout the night just continued to build up until this very moment where it exploded like a volcano. You couldn’t handle all of this.

A small, choked sob escaped your throat as you looked up toward the exit of the hallway, where a beam of light from where the festivities were still ongoing shone through like a drop of sunlight. Where was everybody? Wasn’t Jungkook supposed to here to prevent this very thing from happening?! Where the bloody hell was Namjoon? You haven’t seen the wanker all night?! And Taehyung? Where was he?!

“Help me! Someone please help me!” you screeched, tears pouring down your cheeks. “My fiancé is unconscious! Please someone help him!” 

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, as if all the air in your lungs had suddenly vanished. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t do anything. Was this a panic attack? Were you in the midst of a panic attack? Or were you merely going through shock?

“Help me!!!”

You saw a shadowy figure come through the hallway at the sound of your cry. You instantly recognized the maroon dress and black heels. Ms. Hopkins. Oh thank God someone heard you.

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, her eyes as nearly as big as yours. In an instant, she ran back inside and began shouting, although you couldn’t exactly hear what she was yelling. You supposed it was a good thing Jin forced you to socialize.

Your mind drowned out her yelling and the laughter coming from the other room, because all you could focus on was Jin. Despite falling unconscious and collapsing, he looked so peaceful, as if he was only resting from a long day at work. You brushed some of the strands of hair that had fallen into his face and tuck it behind his ear. His beautiful face was only visible by the dim light that poured in from the other room, but you could still make out every feature.

A group of people started to flood the hallway, all concerned with your fiancé’s well-being. You would’ve let them take Jin to the nearest hospital, but what happened in the next moment changed your mind. 

The light coming from the other room suddenly disappeared like someone snuffing out a candle, and everything went pitch black.

Bollocks, it was the blackout. It was time.

Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks! Shit! Damnit! This couldn’t have happened at a worse time! The others were expecting either you or Jin to obtain the kobae, and only Namjoon would grab it if either of you were unable to. You had a codeword picked out to let him know that he had to snatch it quickly, but you were unsure if you could notify him in time.

Determination suddenly enveloped your whole being as your anxiety soon began to subside and ebb away. You flew to your feet and left Jin behind for the doctors and nurses to fumble with. You knew this was what Jin would’ve wanted you to do. First, you needed to somehow notified Namjoon that Plan B was in motions, then you needed to find Jungkook and tell him that Jin needs help getting out of here, and finally you needed Taehyung to provide an opening for Namjoon to slip through. Ugh, this wasn’t going to be easy.

You slipped through the doorway leading you to the exhibit once your vision had finally adjusted to the darkness. Everyone was in a complete panic from the sudden lack of slight and were rushing to get out. The guards at each entrance and exit were trying their best to calm the guests down and keep them in the room. However, their methods weren’t exactly proving to be successful.

You wandered through the darkness, once in awhile bumping into the other guests and visitors. You mumbled quick apologies as you tried to look for a familiar face. However, the lack of light was making things very difficult for you. You might as well be wandering around with a blindfold over your eyes.

Okay, this wasn’t working, time to resort to your next option. You lifted your head in the air and cup your hands around your mouth and screamed over the cries and loud voices, “Fire!!!”

You didn’t know exactly why the boys wanted that word to be the codeword, but you figured it was because it would throw the other guests into a bigger panic, causing more mayhem and creating a bigger exit for everyone. And you were right. Everyone began to scream and howl in fright and tried to barrel through the exits with the strength of a cowherd.

Hopefully, Namjoon heard your cries and was already making his way to the kobae. You were praying to God that everything would turn out alright, despite the fact that one of the boys was unconscious in a hallway surrounded by strangers. Speaking of Jin, you needed to find Jungkook as soon as possible. He was the only person available who could carry Jin out of here.

You pushed your way through the crowds, yelling Jungkook’s name over and over again over everyone’s shouting. You stumbled over your heels and decided to kick them off. You were a lot faster without them anyway, and hopefully that meant you could find Jungkook quicker. 

Suddenly an arm shot out and grabbed your upper arm harshly. You yelped and brought your other hand up to smack whoever decided to snag you like a creep. However, before you could plant your palm against the stranger’s face, you were pulled into his chest and his lips were suddenly against your ear. “Y/n, relax, it’s only me.”

Oh thank the Lord. Jungkook.

“I’ve been looking all over for you!” you hissed in reply, itching to smack him anyway. His lips on your ear made you squirm in his grasp. Didn’t this boys know your ears and neck were extremely sensitive?

“I could say the same to you,” he whispered. He pulled his lips away to search for your partner; but when the millionaire was nowhere in sight, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and slight concern. He snapped his head back to you. “Where is hyung?”

“Exactly why I’ve been looking for you!” You sighed and ran your hands through your hair. “Jin is unconscious. I don’t know how, but he’s lying in a hallway and I need you to get him out of here right now.”

Jungkook sputtered in shock as his round eyes widened even further. “What?! What happened?!”

“I don’t know! But you need to get him to Hoseok. Right. Now.”

Jungkook stared at you for a few seconds. Even through the darkness you could see some light softly reflect off of his dark eyes. Any other time, you would’ve found this to be somewhat romantic, string into each other’s eyes, ignoring everything happening around you. However, this wasn’t a romance novel; this was reality. And right now, reality is screaming at you to find Taehyung.

“Go.” You ushered Jungkook toward the hallway you burst from and ran off to find the artist. 

You figured finding Taehyung would be the easiest objective out of the rest, since you knew what he looked like and where he last was, but it turned out the be far more difficult than you expected. Of course Taehyung would turn out to be the most difficult. When wasn’t he difficult?

You bumped into a lady who screamed rather loudly, grabbing everyone’s attention toward her. You wanted to strangle her for being overdramatic, but you just pushed past her and continued trudging through the crowds. When this was all over, you were going to take a much needed bath and relax.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted when another hand roughly grabbed you by the shoulder. You weren’t quite as surprised since this just happened seconds ago, after all, you finally found Taehyung. “Taehyung! Finally! Where have you been? I thought you were by the exits!”

“So you do know Kim Taehyung…”

You instantly froze, your blood running cold like ice in your veins. That wasn’t Taehyung.

“Mr. Akimoto…” you gasped. Shite, you needed to get away from him. This could only end in disaster. You tried to rip your shoulder from his grasp, but, man, for an old coot, he had an iron grip.

“You know, I got a report from one of my men that he caught sight of Kim Taehyung in a forest near Darjeeling with a British woman. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this?” 

Your eyes widened in surprise. He was behind the raid? Bollocks, you were right again. This was going to be a disaster. 

When you didn’t answer, he continued venomously, “I should’ve known, and if you’re here with Mr. Kaneki, then that means he’s also apart of this conspiracy.” His slimey voice trailed off as he sighed in disappointment, like a father would when he found out his son got detention again. “Why am I not surprised? It’s a good thing I had him incapacitated then.” His grip tightened on your shoulder to the point that it was becoming painful. “I should’ve had him executed a long time ago.”

Now in the books you’ve been reading lately, when the lady is in the clutches of the antagonist, she usually does one of two things. She either slams the heel of her shoe into his foot and slips away, or she slaps him across the face and makes a dash for it. Now you didn’t have your shoes on anymore, and your good arm was currently in the clutches of Mr. Akimoto, and you really didn’t want to injure your bad arm any further than you already have. So, what could you do?

In the matter of mere moments, your instincts took over again and you did the first thing that came to mind. You brought your knee up and slammed it into the old man’s groin with as much strength as you could muster. Mr. Akimoto yelled in pain and instantly released your arm. You had to admit, it felt really good to finally cause the man some pain.

You ran away from the Japanese official before he or any of his men could grab you again. In a flash, you decided to abandon your quest to find Taehyung. Instead, you raised your head once more and shouted, “Door three!” You noticed that that door had the least amount of congestion from the crowds of people and would provide Namjoon with the perfect escape. You prayed again that Taehyung heard you and was already on his way to take care of the guard.

You knew that the demolition expert told you to signal him subtly, but… subtlety be damned! You needed to get out with Jin right now before you got killed by the Japanese! 

You rushed back to the hallway, lifting up your skirts as your bare feet padded against the stone floor. Your heart pounded in your chest from all the running you’ve been doing these past few minutes. You slipped through the doorway and almost collided into the man you just ran into minutes prior from this whole catastrophe. You yelped and grasped at the man’s shirt until you realized you were tugging onto Jungkook. “Oh thank God, did you find Jin?” you demanded. However, your question was instantly answered when you noticed a large lump thrown over Jungkook’s shoulder. 

“Yes, yes, he’s right here!” Jungkook replied and took a step around you, trying to slip back into the exhibits.

“Wait! Jungkook!” You tugged him by the shirt once more and dragged him back into the hallway. You couldn’t go back out there, not with Mr. Akimoto searching for your blood! “No, no, no! We’re going this way!” 

Jungkook stammered as he was yanked back into the dark hallway. “But the plan-!”

“To hell with the plan! That Japanese wanker is out there trying to kill us! We need another way out!” you argued, searching through the darkness for a door. 

“My pocket!” Jungkook jutted out his hip toward you, and you stood there in confusion for a few seconds. “There should be a lighter in there.”

“Thank God you’re so prepared,” you sighed in relief before shoving your hand down his pocket. Normally, you would’ve flushed at the thought of putting your hand in his pocket, but right now you could care less. The situation was dire, and you needed light.

Once your hand came into contact with metal, you pulled your hand out in flash and opened up the lighter before repeatedly pushing down on the flint, watching sparks shoot out in every direction, before a small flame finally came into existence. You could’ve cried from joy in that moment, but you knew you needed to focus on the task at hand. 

“And then there was light,” you lightly joked. What, someone needed to make the jokes since Jin couldn’t at the moment. Once you saw the annoyed look on Jungkook’s face, you cleared your throat awkwardly and said, “Okay, let’s try to find another exit.”

You began to walk away when Jungkook responded, “I looked at some of the maps with Yoongi when he was studying the building’s wiring. I think I know of an exit around here somewhere.”

“Jungkook, you are a godsend.” You thanked to whoever was listening in that moment that Jungkook was at your side. Otherwise you would’ve been wandering around these halls with an unconscious Jin until the police found you and arrested the both of you.

“I know I am. Anyway, I think we need to turn left.”

You followed Jungkook’s instructions and went down every hall he directed you. To be honest, you wondered for a few seconds if Jungkook was as equally lost as you were. You only wondered this because every hallway looked exactly like the previous three that you all walked down. All the halls has white wallpaper with Victorian looking furniture and adornments on the sides. 

Chills ran down your spine as you walked down the silent and dark hallways with only a small, warm flame to guide your path. You didn’t know why, but walking down these halls made you feel as if you were in some horror genre book that you loved to read. At any moment, you felt like someone or something was ready to pop out and scare you.

And someone did pop out indeed.

As you made a turn to the right according to Jungkook’s instructions, your face almost ran smack into another chest. You yelped and jumped back, ready to scold whoever decided to scare you like that. However, your heart lurched to your throat when you recognized the man to be one of the men who was as Mr. Akimoto’s side. He must’ve been sent by the old snake to track you down and kill you, because in that moment he brandished a knife, the cold metal reflecting the warm light in silver gleams.

However, before he could make a move against you, all of your logic and reason were thrown out the nearest window. You decked the man straight in the jaw as hard as you could before your mind could even process what you were doing. You heard a satisfying crack in the man’s jaw before he collapsed to the floor with a groan. Bloody hell, you seemed to be getting used to all of this action.

You turned around to face Jungkook, who was staring at you with round, rabbit-like eyes. His jaw went slack at the display before him, as if he couldn’t believe what his eyes just saw. You also stood there dumbfounded for a few moments, your hand still clenched tightly into a hard fist. “I think the adrenaline is still rushing through me,” you remarked a little too calmly, despite your shocked expression.

“Yeah, I’d say,” he replied before ushering you along the final hallway.

You practically ran to the door before you and flung it open with all of your strength. Cool air hit your hot skin as if someone dumped a bucket of icy cold water onto you. It was a nice refresher from all of the chaos you just endured. However, you couldn’t take the moment to appreciate the cool night air, because you needed to get into the getaway van as soon as possible. You just hoped that it happened to be somewhere nearby and not a block away. That would be the cherry on top…

“Jimin should’ve taken care of the guards that are around here…” Your voice trailed off as your eyes located an unconscious body lying in the nearby bushes. Sure enough, Jimin did his part of the job and he did it according to what everyone agreed, unlike a certain someone.

“Yeah, but where’s the van?” Jungkook demanded, his head whipping around to locate the black van just as Yoongi described.

Damnit, Yoongi, where was the van? You looked around as well, your nerves suddenly shooting off again for what seemed to be the millionth time that night. “It should be right around… there!” You jabbed a finger when your eyes finally landed upon the sleek, black van parked a few meters away from the commotion that was going on in the museum.

Jungkook nodded and quickly readjusted Jin on his shoulder so that he wouldn;t fall off accidentally. “Alright, let’s get moving, now.”

You didn’t question him as you ran as fast as your legs could carry you to the van, ignoring the shooting pains in your feet from the rough surface that was digging into the soft, tender padding underneath. All you cared about, besides Jungkook and Jin’s safety, was getting into that van as fast as humanly possible.

When finally reached the van, you ripped the back doors open and threw yourself in, not caring about the people you landed on. You practically crawled inside as Jungkook settled Jin on the van floor carefully before quickly scurrying inside. A chorus of concerned voices rang out as they saw Jin’s body before them, demanding what happened and if he was alright. Hoseok, who was sitting in the passenger’s seat, hopped to the back to get to work on Jin, his medical bag already at his side and opened up. 

You placed a hand over your heart as you finally began to settle down. Your body had been going through constant anxiety for hours, and now that it was all over. You could finally relax. However, you began to notice that all of this constant panic and anxiety had taken a toll on your body. For as soon as you began to calm down, your vision soon started to darken. You supposed this was your body’s way of telling you that it was shutting down from all the excitement and that you needed rest.

“Y/n…? Are you alright?” you recognized Namjoon’s voice asked you.

You would’ve given the historian a piece of your mind for disappearing the entire night, but you were far too exhausted to bring yourself to do so. Maybe you would do it once you had the energy to. Instead, you weakly raised you head, looked him straight in the eyes with such earnestness, and said, “Never. Again.”

With that, you slouched back into your seat and passed out, letting the comforting darkness overtake you.

[razieltwelve]

Friends With Benefits (Final Rose AU)

’Yang’s back arched. She was close now, so close. All she need was just a little bit…

Fingers found exactly the right spot as a tongue moved in precisely the right way.

Every muscle in Yang’s body clenched and then released, and the blonde gave a deep groan of satisfaction as she rode out the waves of her climax, eyes shut, hips moving to draw out her pleasure as long as she could. It went on for longer than she thought possible, and by the time she slumped back onto the bed, she could barely string her thoughts together.

It was only when the bed shifted, her bedmate moving to straddle her waist that Yang opened her eyes. The sight that greeted her was certainly an appealing one, and she felt a lazy flutter of arousal stir in her belly. Her lips curled. Again? After what she’d just gone through? Apparently, her body thought she was up to it.

“Enjoy yourself?” Averia smirked as she noted the haziness in Yang’s lilac eyes. There was something distinctly attractive about seeing the normally fiery blonde in the aftermath of a climax, her hair deliciously rumpled, her whole body utterly relaxed. “I know I did.”

“You’re an idiot,” Yang muttered fondly, trying to sit up. But Averia just chuckled and put one hand on her shoulder, pushing her down easily. “You’re also a bully, picking on me when I’m weak.”

“Yes, I’m a terrible person. Just horrible.” Averia moved to lie down beside Yang, the two of them cuddling. “But you put up with me.”

“I do… if only because you’re the only person I can do this with who might actually survive when my parents attempt to murder them.” Yang chuckled. “You should see what happened to the last girl I went out with. We were just getting to the good part, and my dad, I swear it’s the truth, he came in through the skylight. My moms weren’t far behind either. It’s like they’re trying to keep me celibate for the rest of my life.”

Averia laughed. “I’m hardly any better off you know. Do you have any idea how hard it is to date people when your parents have Saviour and Ragnarok? They only have to look at people to scare them off.”

“Well, I guess that makes us even.” Yang grinned. “Actually, we’re not even yet.” She gave Averia’s naked body an appreciative look. “I haven’t had a chance to pay you back yet. That was… great.”

“Only great? I must be losing my touch. I could have sworn I’d mapped the optimal stimulus-response paths earlier.”

“You’re a giant dork, using your legendary Semblance to do sex better.” Yang snickered. “But, hey, I’m not complaining. Still, you do realise that your Semblance is basically the most unfair thing ever.”

“I’m not sure about that. I’ve seen my sister regrow an arm in a matter of seconds and laugh off being impaled by multiple weapons.”

“Yeah… that is pretty crazy.” Yang sat up. “You know, I’m going to Beacon next year.”

“Oh?” Averia’s eyes followed the curve of Yang’s back and then drifted to her chest. “That should be interesting. You being there will mean there’s even more competition.”

“You could use it. You topped Beacon Junior Academy every year you were there.”

Averia shrugged. “What can I say? I’m awesome. And it was close. Claire was only a point or two behind each year.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yang’s expression grew serious. “Do you think our parents know what we’re doing?”

“Yang, you were one of the top students at Signal. I was the top student at Beacon Junior Academy. The mission we took wouldn’t take us three days, even if we did decide to drag it out. I’m sure they know exactly what we’re doing.”

“Ah.” Yang ran one hand through her hair. “Then they must not be too upset since none of our parents have kicked the door down or blown a hole in the wall.”

Averia’s expression grew serious as well. “Yang, I think our parents are making a judgement call. Both of us… this… we’re friends, Yang, good friends, but this isn’t a forever thing.”

Yang nodded. “I know. We were both pretty clear on that from the start. We were both looking for, well, I guess you could say friends with benefits.”

“Exactly, and our parents probably figured they couldn’t stop us one way or the other. I mean… they can’t watch us all the time, can they?”

“I wouldn’t put it past them to try.”

“You’re right. But they probably are happy that the two of us are getting… this from each other. There’s already friendship, and neither of us are going to hurt the other or play games.” Averia’s gaze softened. “You’re one of my best friends, Yang. This thing we’ve got going, it’s safe.”

“It is.” Yang smiled back. “It’s nice not having to worry if the person I’m with is just trying to use me or looking to name for themselves by scoring with the daughter of Taiyang Xiao Long and Raven Branwen.” She grinned. “So… your turn?”

Averia reclined on the bed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

People wanted a Player!Averia, and this is the start. As you can see, she’s much more laid-back and open about certain issues. She’s still Averia though, always worrying about her friends and family and trying not to get dragged into the craziness. 

Yang, of course, is still very much Yang although the dynamic between them will certainly be different once they get to Beacon.

[cdraws-and-ships-blog]

Delusional Tax AU | BMC | Heir

@shima-draws @monsterunderthefedora

Based off of this video, all credit to the original creator and cover artist. I have created this AU with this as my inspiration.

https://youtu.be/gOfkXabzrLk

---

Jeremy hated his life.

When Jeremy was a baby, his mother and dad decided that they couldn’t be together. His dad didn’t want to wear pants, and his mother’s dream were just bigger that that. And without too much of a fight, Jeremy was taken into custody by his mother as she headed off to fame and fortune.

Featuring in multiple films while simultaneously building up the latter to success in multiple million-dollar companies around the globe, Dana Heere became the face the world has come to know. And guess who she dragged along for the ride? None other than her ‘beautiful boy’, Jeremy.

He has everything anyone could ever need or want. Servants that would literally feed him grapes if he asked, millions of dollars in his pockets, his mom got him his own godamn private jet. The Heir that everyone adores from afar.

So why would he hate it? Well.. it’s not like he asked for it.

Don’t get me wrong, he is grateful for all of it. And he loves his mom. But it’s not like he asked to constantly stay indoors instead of being bombarded by paparazzi. Or to be so popular that he has no friends oncesoever. Or have to take school with his private tutor from England, in which he may have pretty alright grades and pass everything just fine. Honestly… He just wants to be normal more than anything.

He tries so hard, too. He tries to just play video games, drink mountain dew, stay online as a hidden figure named ‘Heir’ (very creative, yeah, but he wasn’t known for creativity, alright?), and wore regular clothing a teen guy would wear. But he can’t.

His mom gets him bigger and better presents every holiday. He has everything pampered for him, so he never has anything to really get up and do, so what’s the point? With all of this, Jeremy was just glad that his mother agreed to stop giving his pictures after he turned 10, when he had his first panic attack in public.

He had one relief, though: Pac-Mike90s. As Heir, he was a low-profile, fun online user. The way he met P-M was when he was playing Apocolypes of the Damned, the game his dad sent him for his birthday. He liked how not up to date it felt, how chill it was. It only got better when he found him on an empty map around witching hour, and they started talking.

It lead farther than he thought. At first he acting like some schmo, a nobody. He got to know P-M a bit for about a month or so. He was the coolest person he’d ever talked to, and he’s talked to governer. Definitely cooler. His real name was Michael. He was old school, fun, always sounded like he actually wanted to talk to Jeremy. Whenever he saw him on the screen, he felt a feeling he couldn’t describe for so long.

He was nervous to tell him. But he was surprised when he reacted in a good manner. He wasn’t.. well, he was freaking out. But not dying. He was just.. He sounded happy. Like he was glad that he was himself, and not that he’s just the Heir. Michael treated him like a real human.

This habit had formed in his life, with him having a busy day, and talking to Michael late into the night. It wasn’t what he wanted.. And there was always a guilt about it, how people would kill for this.. But it was his life. How could it change?

Ring, ring.

Here comes the life changer.

He hasn’t gotten a call from his dad in a whole year and a half, since his last birthday. He usually got a warning, or an indicator why he was going to get a phonecall from the man he wanted to know better. But, this was unexpected.

He answered his phone. “Hello?”

The phone on the other end was happy. “Hey Jeremy, I have some good news.”

Jeremy almost shouted when he heard he was going to visit his dad. He didn’t even know that this would be a possible thing. Excitement ran through his system for the rest of the week before he was going to stay with him. He was a giddy little kid he had been years and years ago.

He packed little things. One backpack, even if his mother tried to force him multiple suitcases. It was only a month or two, and he was planning to go shopping- normal shopping- while he was there. He brought his phone, Apocolypes of the Damned, four or so sets of clothing, his medication, and toiletries.

He had to plane from Paris to New Jersey. His dad insisted on paying for the ticket, so he rode on a normal plane, not even first class. He loved it. He talked up the old woman on the plane ride there. It all felt new, wonderful , like he was Pinocchio or something.

He saw his dad holding up the cardboard sign that said his name on it. However, instead of the famous name “Jeremy Heere”, the name “Jeremy Reeds” was plastered on the sign. He might have passed right by him if he hadn’t awkwardly called for him to come over. When asked about the name, it made perfect sense that Heere was his mother’s Maiden name she decided to keep, and Reeds was his dad’s side. He.. really liked Reeds. (Also, don’t worry, Jeremy’s dad is wearing pants in the airport. But let’s just say he gets away without pants in the weeks after this. Mostly since Jeremy doesn’t care).

He stepped into his room he had slept in as an infant. It was replaced with a twin sized, pretty stiff compared to his bed back at the mansion, and he didn’t mind. A shitty computer that for perfectly with Apocolypes of the Damned. He laid on the bed, proud owner, Jeremy Reeds. He laughed with joy for over ten full minutes when he heard the buzz of his phone. He glanced, realizing it was Michael. He checked it.

M: Ugh. I can’t believe school starts in a week. Uuuugh. 😣 M: Well at least it won’t be as humid. It’s always nicer in the fall.🍁 M: Have you ever visited New Jersey btw? Probably not. M: Maybe one day, hah!

Let’s just say that Jeremy almost got noise complaints within the first hour of being at his dad’s place for screaming too much.