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gardenofkore · 3 years

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The Theory of the Sicilian Origin of the Odyssey refers to a particular trend (particularly fashionable during the 19th century) according to which the true author of the Odyssey was a young woman from Trapani, who took inspiration from people and places familiar to her to write this famous epic poem. The postulation was made especially renowned after Victorian novelist Samuel Butler published his work The Authoress of the Odyssey in 1897 and is still debated nowadays. The main reasonings who could support the theory of a female writer are the fact that, in the Odyssey, women are depicted as more reasonable and positive than men, who act almost mechanically and aren’t as exalted as their female counterparts. While Iliad’s women are creatures who need to be protected, Odyssey’s women rule, counsel and protect. When Ulysses reaches Scheria, Nausicaa advises him to plead for help from Queen Arete rather than King Alcinous. No woman in the Odyssey is made fun of, and almost everyone of them is treated with respect, except if they committed a serious crime (like Penelope’s unfaithful handmaidens, who are showed no mercy) while men aren’t considered trustworthy and able. Also, the text is peppered with small errors (about navigation, the structure of a ship, the shape of a weapon etc) which no male author could have made.

Who, then, was she?

I cannot answer this question with the confidence that I have felt hitherto. So far I have been able to demonstrate the main points of my argument; on this, the most interesting question of all, I can offer nothing stronger than presumption.

We have to find a woman of Trapani, young, fearless, self-willed, and exceedingly jealous of the honour of her sex. She seems to have moved in the best society of her age and country, for we can imagine none more polished on the West coast of Sicily in Odyssean times than the one with which the writer shews herself familiar. She must have had leisure, or she could not have carried through so great a work. She puts up with men when they are necessary or illustrious, but she is never enthusiastic about them, and likes them best when she is laughing at them; but she is cordially interested in fair and famous women.

I think she should be looked for in the household of the person whom she is travestying under the name of King Alcinous. The care with which his pedigree and that of his wife Arēte is explained (vii. 54-77), and the warmth of affectionate admiration with which Arēte is always treated, have the same genuine flavour that has led scholars to see true history and personal interest in the pedigree of Æneas given in "Il." XX. 200-241. Moreover, she must be a sufficiently intimate member of the household to be able to laugh at its head as much as she chose. [...]

Lastly, she must be looked for in one to whom the girl described as Nausicaa was all in all. No one else is drawn with like livingness and enthusiasm, and no other episode is written with the same, or nearly the same, buoyancy of spirits and resiliency of pulse and movement, or brings the scene before us with anything approaching the same freshness, as that in which Nausicaa takes the family linen to, the washing cisterns. The whole of Book vi. can only have been written by one who was throwing herself into it heart and soul.

All the three last paragraphs are based on the supposition that the writer was drawing real people. That she was drawing a real place, lived at that place, and knew no other, does not admit of further question; we can pin the writer down here by reason of the closeness with which she has kept to natural features that remain much as they were when she portrayed them; but no traces of Alcinous’s house and garden, nor of the inmates of his household will be even looked for by any sane person; it is open, therefore, to an objector to contend that though the writer does indeed appear to have drawn permanent features from life, we have no evidence that she drew houses and gardens and men and women from anything but her own imagination.

[...]

Richly endowed with that highest kind of imagination which consists in wise selection and judicious application of materials derived from life, she fails, as she was sure to do, when cut off from a base of operation in her own surroundings. This appears most plainly in the three books which tell of the adventures of Ulysses after he has left Mt. Eryx and the Cyclopes. There is no local detail in the places described; nothing, in fact, but a general itinerary such as she could easily get from the mariners of her native town. With this she manages to rub along, helping herself out with fragments taken from nearer home, but there is no approach to such plausible invention as we find in Gulliver's Travels, Robinson Crusoe, or Pilgrim's Progress; and when she puts a description of the land of Hades into the mouth of Circe (x. 508–515)—which she is aware must be something unlike anything she had ever witnessed—she breaks down and gives as a scene which carries no conviction. Fortunately not much detail is necessary here; in Ithaca, however, a great deal is wanted, and feeling invention beyond her strength she does not even attempt it, but has recourse with the utmost frankness to places with which she is familiar.

Not only does she shirk invention as much as possible in respect of natural features, but she does so also as regards incident. She can vilipend her neighbours on Mt. Eryx as the people at Trapani continue doing to this day, for there is no love lost between the men of Trapani and those of Mte. S. Giuliano, as Eryx is now called. She knows Ustica: the wind comes thence, and she can make something out of that; then there is the other great Sican city of Cefalù—a point can be made here; but with the Lipari islands her material is running short. She has ten years to kill, for which, however, eight or eight-and-a-half may be made to pass. She cannot have killed more than three months before she lands her hero on Circe's island; here, then, in pity's name let him stay for at any rate twelve months—which he accordingly does.

She soon runs through her resources for the Sirens’ island, and Scylla and Charybdis; she knows that there is nothing to interest her on the East coast of Sicily below Taormina—for Syracuse (to which I will return) was still a small pre-Corinthian settlement, while on the South coast we have no reason to believe that there was any pre-Hellenic city. What, she asked herself, could she do but shut Ulysses up in the most lonely island she could think of—the one from which he would have the least chance of escaping—for the remainder of his term? She chose, therefore, the island which the modern Italian Government has chosen, for exactly the same reasons, as the one in which to confine those who cannot be left at large—the island of Pantellaria; but she was not going to burden Calypso for seven long years with all Ulysses’ men, so his ship had better be wrecked.

This way out of the difficulty does not indicate a writer of fecund or mature invention. She knew the existence of Sardinia, for Ulysses smiles a grim Sardinian smile (xx. 302). Why not send him there, and describe it with details taken not from the North side of Trapani but from the South? Or she need not have given details at all—she might have sent him very long journeys extending over ever so many years in half a page. If she had been of an inventive turn there were abundant means of keeping him occupied without having recourse to the cheap and undignified expedient of shutting him up first for a year in one island, and then for seven in another. Having made herself so noble a peg on which to hang more travel and adventure, she would have hung more upon it, had either strength or inclination pointed in that direction. It is one of the commonplaces of Homeric scholars to speak of the voyages of Ulysses as "a story of adventurous travel." So in a way they are, but one can see all through that the writer is trying to reduce the adventurous travel to a minimum.

See how hard put to it she is when she is away from her own actual surroundings. She does not repeat her incidents so long as she is at home, for she has plenty of material to draw from; when she is away from home, do what she may, she cannot realise things so easily, and has a tendency to fall back on something she has already done. Thus, at Pylos, she repeats the miraculous flight of Minerva (iii. 372) which she had used i. 320. On reaching the land of the Læstrygonians Ulysses climbs a high rock to reconnoitre, and sees no sign of inhabitants save only smoke rising from the ground—at the very next place he comes to he again climbs a high rock to reconnoitre, and apparently sees no sign of inhabitants but only the smoke of Circe's house rising from the middle of a wood. He is conducted to the house of Alcinous by a girl who had come out of the town to fetch a pitcher of water (vii. 20); this is repeated (x. 105) when Ulysses’ men are conducted to the house of the Læstrygonian Antiphates, by a girl who had come out of the town to fetch a pitcher of water. The writer has invented a sleep to ruin Ulysses just as he was well in sight of Ithaca (x. 31, &c.). This is not good invention, for such a moment is the very last in which Ulysses would be likely to feel sleepy—but the effort of inventing something else to ruin him when his men are hankering after the cattle of the Sun is quite too much for her, and she repeats (xii. 338) the sleep which had proved so effectual already. So, as I have said above, she repeats the darkness on each occasion when Ulysses seems likely to stumble upon Trapani. Calypso, having been invented once, must do duty again as Circe—or vice versâ, for Book x. was probably written before Book v.

Such frequent examples of what I can only call consecutive octaves indicate a writer to whom invention does not come easily, and who is not likely to have recourse to it more than she can help. Having shown this as regards both places and incidents, it only remains to point out that the writer's dislike of invention extends to the invention of people as well as places. The principal characters in the "Odyssey" are all of them Scherian. Nestor, Ulysses, Menelaus and Alcinous are every one of them the same person playing other parts, and the greater zest with which Alcinous is drawn suggests, as I have said in an earlier Chapter, that the original from whom they are all taken was better known to the writer in the part of Alcinous than in that of any of the other three. Penelope, Helen, and Arēte are only one person, and I always suspect Penelope to be truer to the original than either of the other two. Idothea and Ino are both of them Nausicaa; so also are Circe and Calypso, only made up a little older, and doing as the writer thinks Nausicaa would do if she were a goddess and had an establishment of her own. I am more doubtful about these last two, for they both seem somewhat more free from that man-hatred which Nausicaa hardly attempts to conceal. Still, Nausicaa contemplates marrying as soon as she can find the right person, and, as we have seen, neither Circe nor Calypso had a single man-servant of their own, while Circe was in the habit of turning all men who came near her into pigs or wild beasts. Calypso, moreover, is only made a little angry by being compelled to send Ulysses away. She does not seem to have been broken-hearted about it. Neither of them, therefore, must be held to be more fond of men than the convenience of the poem dictated. Even the common people of Ithaca are Scherians, and make exactly the same fault-finding ill-natured remarks about Penelope (xxiii. 149-151) as the Phæacians did about Nausicaa in Book vi. 273-288.

If, then, we observe that where the writer's invention is more laboured she is describing places foreign to her own neighbourhood, while when she carries conviction she is at or near her own home, the presumption becomes very strong that the more spontaneous scenes are not so much invention as a rendering of the writer's environment, to which it is plain that she is passionately attached, however much she may sometimes gird at it. I, therefore, dismiss the supposition of my supposed objector that the writer was not drawing Alcinous’ household and garden from life, and am confirmed in this opinion by remembering that the house of Ulysses corresponds perfectly with that of Alcinous—even to the number of the women servants kept in each establishment.

Being limited to a young woman who was an intimate member of Alcinous’ household, we have only to choose between some dependant who idolised Nausicaa and wished to celebrate her with all her surroundings, or Nausicaa (whatever her real name may have been) herself.

[...]

The fact that in the washing day episode, so far as possible, we find Nausicaa, all Nausicaa, and nothing but Nausicaa, among the female dramatis person, indicates that she was herself the young woman of Trapani, a member of the household of King Alcinous, whom we have got to find, and that she was giving herself the little niche in her work which a girl who was writing such a work was sure to give herself.

[...]

At the same time I think it highly probable that the writer of the "Odyssey" was both short and plain, and was laughing at herself, and intending to make her audience laugh also, by describing herself as tall and beautiful. She may have been either plain or beautiful without its affecting the argument.

I wish I could find some one who would give me any serious reason why Nausicaa should not have written the "Odyssey." For the last five years I have pestered every scholar with whom I have been able to scrape acquaintance, by asking him to explain why the "Odyssey" should not have been written by a young woman.

Samuel Butler, The Authoress of the Odyssey

#historical women #women #history #historicwomendaily #women in history #the authoress of the odyssey #samuel butler #Greek Sicily #trapani #Province of Trapani #people of sicily #women of sicily #historyedit #myedit

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jincherie · 4 years

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florescence | vi

❀ — pairing: taehyung x reader x seokjin ❀ — genre: hybrid au, hybrid tae, hybrid jin, poly au, fluff, smut (future), angst ❀ — words: 4.9k+ ❀ — rating: sfw...ish? ❀ — warnings: everything is smoothing over.... and now that angst is out of the way, oc is having to deal with some thoughts that now have the time to rise to the surface. so um. hickeys and also an almost risque dream ❀ — notes: happy birthday to me!!! i hope u enjoy this!!! every chapter we get closer and closer to the heat!!!!!!

Okay, so maybe you’re lonely, and maybe there is something missing in your life, a void that you maybe want to fill with a companion that may or may not be of human origin… You’re perfectly content not doing anything about it though, until your best friend calls you in desperate need for your help and you suddenly end up coming home with not one, but two hybrids that may or may not have been on the way to the chopping block had you not taken them in. They’re more than a little rough around the edges, and the situation is less than ideal but… maybe the best things don’t always come in perfect, shiny packages. Maybe they just need a little time to bloom.

— posted; 30.03.2020 // masterlist || prev. | next.

It seems that for all your many efforts over the weeks in reassuring the two hybrids that they’re wanted by you and that they can settle down and make this their home, it doesn’t really sink in until after the night you let them scent you.

Which, of course, makes sense considering that was what was making them unsettled in the first place. You knew that letting them do that would return their behaviour to normal, but you weren’t expecting that in the process it would also do a complete one-eighty.

It’s like a switch has been flipped.

The first thing you notice, is that when you all head to bed and you enter your room, closing the door behind you, they seem to hover outside of it for a moment before continuing to their own room. Now, the old you would be thinking why? But! This is the new you, the new-and-improved y/n who knows how to use google when she should! And since you’ve been referring to google and the more trustworthy sites you’ve found, you know that they’re probably battling the urge to be closer to you.

What you mean by that, is that you read that more often than not hybrids prefer to be as close to their owners as possible at all times—and this can also mean that they want to sleep in the same room. It soothes an instinctual part of them, apparently. You can understand it, plus, if you’re being honest…. You’re not as opposed as you should be.

The idea of getting to cuddle with them while you sleep makes you feel warm and gooey inside, but the thing is that after the way things were hinted to be going the other night… you kind of have to chase off more than inappropriate thoughts every time you think about it. You can’t help it! They’re both handsome, sweet boys, and—

You’re gonna stop yourself there.

“I’m home!”

You call out as soon as you enter through the door, an unnecessary act considering they could probably hear you all the way down the street if they really tried. Still, it’s habit. You used to yell it even when no one was here, because it made you feel less lonely. Kind of sad, now you think about it. You hum, reaching the bench and placing your things down on top of the counter.

You’re startled into yelping when thick arms slip around your waist, heat pressing against your back and a face mushing into your neck. The lack of whining tells you it’s Taehyung that has reached you first today, eager to cuddle close until every trace of any other hybrid’s scent is gone. They’ve taken to doing this every time you get home—at first you wanted to protest, since they barely let you get five steps through the door before accosting you, but after seeing how pleased and content they look after, you couldn’t be mad at them for it even if you wanted to.

“Tae,” you hum, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair; your nails run against the back of his ear by accident and something akin to a purr thrums through his chest. He presses his lips to the junction of your neck before nipping it lightly in greeting, arms tightening around your waist fractionally. “I missed you too.”

When he pulls away and moves around to your front, you’re taken aback by how pleased he seems to be that you pinpointed what he was trying to say. His big chocolate eyes with those long, pretty lashes are looking at you so earnestly you can’t help but coo, bringing your hands up to pinch his cheeks. They instantly flush pink beneath your grip.

“So cute,” you coo, grinning as you squish his cheeks like he’s a newborn baby and you’re an aunt who is performing her obligated first cheek-pinch. “My cute baby Tae, I really did miss you so much.”

Teasing him probably isn’t the best way to deal with the sudden overstimulation of your senses at how cute he is, but his reactions are always worth it. He’s growing so bold lately that even though he doesn’t talk still, you almost forget how shy he can be. Blushing, Taehyung steps forward and drops his head, headbutting your shoulder to hide his face. A laugh tumbles from your throat before you can even register it, arms coming up to hold him close. You’re gonna die from a heart attack at his cuteness one of these days, you just know it.

“Where’s Seokjin?” you ask after a moment of holding him, trailing your fingers down his spine soothingly. His tail wags in joy each time you do it.

At your question though, he pulls back, and you’re surprised to see a look of hesitation on his face. You tilt your head, wondering as to the cause of it. “Is he okay?”

Taehyung nods instantly, not wanting you to worry, and seems to make up his mind about whatever he was considering. He slips his hand into yours, entwining your fingers, and tugs you towards the stairs. You follow, letting him lead you easily—this works well with your plans since you wanted to get changed into your pyjamas anyway. You kind of expect him to take you to his room, but your eyes widen when you see him turn and pull you in the direction of yours. You don’t have a name for the light, fluttery feeling that occurs in your stomach.

The door is slightly ajar as you approach and Taehyung goes straight in, pushing it open softly before stepping to the side and halting, a somewhat sheepish expression crossing his face. You see why a moment later.

There, on the edge of your bed closest to the wall, is Seokjin. He’s curled up around the blankets, a blue material you quickly recognise as one of your shirts clutched against his chest as he snoozes. He looks so at peace, cheek mushed against his hand and his hair tousled so endearingly; you’re making your way over before you even realise it.

As you approach and take in the other side of the bed, the comforter rumpled and another shirt laying discarded atop the covers, you surmise that Taehyung must have joined the older male in his nap at some point as well. When you shoot him a knowing look, he purses his lips and averts his eyes somewhat guiltily, making you laugh softly.

“Seokjin,” you say quietly, resting a knee on the bed so you can lean over and nudge the fox’s shoulder. His hand uncurls from his chest and you tickle his palm with your fingers. “Seokjin.”

He grunts softly, smooshing his face into the bed for a moment. Reflexively, his fingers start to curl around your own. You try calling him to wake again, “Seokj—oop!”

The sensation of falling onto the bed has your stomach temporarily being left behind your body as you’re pulled down, arm instantly slipping over your waist. Your cheeks heat, heart thudding so loudly you’re sure Taehyung can hear it; right in front of you is Seokjin’s face, so close that if you leant forward even a centimetre your lips would brush his own. The knowledge has your blood pressure skyrocketing.

A soft sound, almost like a whimper, comes from behind you, and you turn your head to glimpse at the dhole hybrid who still has a hold on your other hand—his expression is almost indecipherable, a mix of fond, jealous, and somehow amused all at the same time. There’s something else in there that melts his citrine irises into dark honey, something that makes your stomach flip instinctively before you push it forcibly from your brain.

Brushing your thumb over his hand to soothe him, you then turn back to his brother and ponder how to proceed. You need to wake him up because, to be honest, you’re hungry as hell and want to sort out dinner already. He has your hand trapped and held against his chest, hugging your arm like a teddy, and so you free your other hand from Taehyung’s grasp (ignoring his soft protest) and bring it to cup his cheek. Admiring his features for a moment, you brush your fingertip down his nose, and then pass your thumb over his cheekbone; even asleep, he nuzzles easily into your touch. Your chest is so warm.

“Seokjin,” you murmur, not wanting to alarm him by being any louder. “Seokjin, wake up please.”

He mumbles unintelligibly, bringing the hand he has in his hold up to his cheek and nuzzling against it—honest to god you think your heart is going to explode like that bird in Shrek when Fiona sings to it. What are you supposed to do with these feelings! There’s so much of them!

Unable to help yourself, you end up channelling it the exact same way you did before. You pinch Seokjin’s cheek, huffing, “Seokjinnie, wake up, I’m hungry.”

Apparently the pinch did the trick, because in the next second he’s cracking his eyes open, blinking blearily. As soon as he catches sight of you—or really, as soon as he registers that it’s you in front of him that he’s been staring at the past few seconds—he freezes, mouth popping open.

He continues staring at you for one, two, three seconds. Then he jerks back like he’s been burned, flinging somewhat haphazardly into a sitting position with a yelped, “y/n!”

You take the opportunity to sit up and climb from the bed now that he’s released your hand, smiling at him cheekily. “Missed me, did you, bub?”

His face erupts into a violent blush, but surprisingly he doesn’t shy away. “No!” he denies, before realising how incriminating his current location and choice of teddy-bear is, and later amending, “… Maybe.”

You laugh, grabbing his hands and pulling him to a stand; fluidly, in the same movement his arms slip around your waist and he curls around you, face going straight to the other side of your neck to perform his daily evening scenting. You allow him until the soft trailing of his nose along your neck tickles too much and you let out a squeak, wriggling out of his hold.

“You guys are gonna kill me one day,” you remark, shaking your head with a smile. Still sleepy, Seokjin returns your smile with a dazed one of his own, his hand coming to clutch your sleeve as you beg to depart from the room. Taehyung rushes ahead to get the door, fluffy russet tail swishing happily behind him. “I missed you both too. What did you get up to today? I mean, besides napping in my bed.”

Seokjin lets out a protest at your teasing, but it doesn’t last long before he’s happily filling you in on the details of the day, running you through its contents in detail. You listen attentively, pulling out utensils and dishes for dinner as you do so. You only pause when Seokjin halts suddenly, and you feel his tentative touch on your elbow.

When you turn to him, it’s a determined, pleading look in his amber-hued eyes that greets you. “Can I cook tonight? I want to learn so I can make dinner for you. You always come back and make it for us after being away most of the day.”

Something akin to fluster creeps under your skin and warms your cheeks—you don’t know what to do with the way his words make your heart throb. “Oh, o-of course. You remember how to make spaghetti?”

At his fervent nodding, you relinquish the items in your hold to him and step back, moving to join Taehyung on the stools at the other side of the counter. Now that he’s gotten his question out of the way, Seokjin resumes his earlier chattering, speaking enough for the three of you. You did have some slight reservations about him cooking by himself, but as you watch you realise that he really has been paying avid attention every time you teach him how to make something. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’d taken notes and studied.

“We wanted to nap on the hammock outside, but it’s not the same without you,” Seokjin pouts, squinting his eyes as he slices onions. “Also, we kind of finished that season of The Dragon Prince without you… sorry.”

“That’s okay,” you answer immediately, before letting out a surprised gasp when something brushes your back. You didn’t even know Taehyung had moved until you feel him pressing against you from behind, slipping his arms over your shoulders to hang slackly and resting his chin on your head. “You’re very cuddly today, Tae.”

“He missed you,” Seokjin supplies without pause, pausing his cutting only to give the younger hybrid a fond look. His peppery tail sways and wags contentedly behind him. “You were gone extra early this morning, and he didn’t get to say goodbye.”

“Ah,” you hum in realisation, tilting your head back to meet Taehyung’s gaze, your hand coming to touch one of the arms hanging over your shoulders. “Sorry, Tae. I’ll make sure to say goodbye in the future.”

To your utter surprise, the dhole hybrid lets out a sound oddly like a mew and a chirp blended into one. He brings his arms to hug your shoulders, face burying into your hair happily; you can feel his ears flick against your head and you focus on that instead of the way his hand had accidentally brushed against your chest when he moved his arm.

“You’re forgiven,” Seokjin informs you, amused. His words bring a smile to your face.

Seokjin is quick and concise while making your dinner, but spends a fair amount of time in the final stages making sure it tastes just right. By the time the food is served and steaming in a bowl in front of you, it’s barely been forty minutes and you’ve never been hungrier. The smell alone in the last twenty minutes has had you salivating consistently.

To Seokjin’s credit, it’s delicious and honestly better than your own cooking. You make sure to tell him so and he blushes, shoving a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth to hide his happy smile. The praise makes him glow with pride for the rest of the evening, Taehyung telling him in his own way that he enjoyed the meal too. You wonder if Seokjin would be interested in looking up other recipes, and make a note to look into finding a recipe book for him.

After eating, the three of you move somewhat lazily to the living room to watch something before you retire. Well, you say that loosely. What really happens as soon as you sit on the lounge is that your two hybrids lay on top of you and command all your attention in the form of cuddles. You’re so happy that things have resumed the way they were, better even. You feel soothed, and surprisingly a little bit giddy with anticipation for how things can only go up from here. As you turn on Netflix and catch up on the series they’d watched without you, you can’t help the way your thoughts stray to what is going to happen as soon as you call bedtime.

Honestly, you haven’t paused and let it sink in that you found Jin napping on your bed earlier. Do they do it often? It would explain a lot—namely the way your bed when you come home would sometimes be in a different way to how you left it in the morning. It also makes sense considering you’ve noticed how drawn they are to your room. It’s not like it’s explicitly out of bounds for them, but you get the sense that to them it’s a topic that they don’t know how to approach yet. You wonder if tonight you will catch them lingering on the way past your door again.

A few hours and several episodes later reveals that the answer is: yes.

You’ve just finished changing into your pyjamas, some shorts and a loose, thin singlet, when you catch familiar shadows moving from underneath your door. You smile, stretching as you make your way to the door as quietly as possible.

When you swing it open and catch two hybrids standing hesitantly outside it, you promptly scare the living daylights out of them.

“Sorry,” you say, grinning at the way Taehyung pouts grumpily at you and Seokjin places a hand over his heart. “Wanna tell me what you’re doing outside my door?”

At your question, their faces draw a blank. Apparently, they hadn’t realised that you noticed their usual lingering.

“Um,” Seokjin bites his lip, canines digging softly into the plump flesh. “No?”

You try not to laugh, for his sake. Your hybrids always blush to easily and while they look cute when they do you kind of wonder if there’s any long-term side effects of having that much blood rush to your head on the regular.

The longer the interaction goes on, the more flustered he gets. “Um. We were just going to bed. Goodnight—”

You don’t miss the way Taehyung smacks his arm, giving him a pointed look, and you decide to be the bolder person in this case. You made a promise to yourself after last time that you were going to be more attentive and proactive, and so here you are! Doesn’t mean you can’t tease them a little while you have mercy on them, though.

“Oh,” you say, letting out a sigh. “Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to sleep in here tonight, but if you want to go to your own bed it’s o—”

The way their eyes light up is almost comical, Seokjin cutting you off hurriedly. “No! No, we don’t want to—I mean, we like our bed, but i-if we can, um, sleep in yours…”

You opt not to say anything, simply stepping back and opening your door to them. They dart inside like they’re scared you’re going to change your mind, diving onto your bed and worming beneath the covers in record timing—you have to laugh as you climb into the space they left you in the middle. Using your remote, you make sure the light is off and your fan is on since you have a feeling you’re going to wake up overheated.

It’s only the fairy lights framing your window that cast a soft, blue glow over the handsome curves of your hybrids’ faces now, both of their eyes trained on you as you settled down onto your back. As soon as you’re comfortable, they dive forward and plant their faces in the respective sides of your neck they’ve claimed.

“Sorry,” Seokjin murmurs after a moment, nosing against your skin and inhaling softly. “It’s… a hybrid thing. Being around your scent is really… calming.”

“Oh,” you say, flustered. “So long as I don’t stink, then. Tell me if I insult your nose.”

“I don’t think you could ever smell bad, y/n,” he confesses lowly, Taehyung humming softly in agreement. The vibrations against your skin almost make you shudder.

“I’m flattered but I can assure you that’s not true,” you laugh, breath hitching as Seokjin buries his face further into your neck, nosing along your hairline.

“Whatever,” he mumbles, wriggling closer and hugging you tight. Taehyung almost fights him for the privilege of having an arm around your waist but settles for looping it over your ribs instead. “Go to sleep, ‘m sleepy.”

You roll your eyes, wondering how you never noticed his sassy streak earlier on, but oblige his request. Its warm in their hold, and as it usually does you find yourself quickly melting into the security of it, sleep coming easily. You pass out, limbs intertwined with those of your hybrids as you all slip into your respective dreams.

x—x—x

About midway through the night you find yourself waking, eyes blinking blearily at the ceiling before you even realise you’ve been roused from sleep. For a moment, you find yourself sifting through the fog of sleep in your mind for the reason why you’ve woken, until you become aware of a sensation at your neck.

It’s wet, you realise belatedly at the feeling of cool air brushing your sensitive skin, but that’s not all. Warmth travels down your spine and your thighs twitch with the urge to move at another sensation, one that takes you another moment to identify.

Someone… is sucking on your neck?

Your brain, even still hazy with sleep, is quick to piece it together after that. It’s Taehyung, soft chitters escaping him as his chest thrums with something akin to a purr against your shoulder. He’s still asleep, you surmise, but even in sleep he’s really ravaging your neck. Each soft suckle of your skin into his mouth is paired with the scrape of his teeth, a shudder fighting to roll down your spine as something a little too synonymous with pleasure shoots through you.

Distantly, you know you should push him off of you, but your head is so fuzzy and your heart is doing a tumble routine in your chest. You go to push him away softly by placing a hand on his shoulder but only end up bunching it in the material of his shirt when he moves lower and huffs before attaching his mouth to the tender junction of your neck and shoulder. The whine that rises in your throat thankfully gets caught before it can escape, your hand sliding up from Taehyung’s shoulder to touch his cheek.

Your finger accidentally brushes his mouth, but what catches you more off-guard is that he immediately detaches his mouth from your neck and goes for your finger instead, the hand wedged between you two holding it to his face as he nibbles and licks the skin there instead, much more gently than he had your neck. You think your heart is about to give out, but now that the sensations aren’t so overwhelming, you find yourself sinking back into sleep once more. You’re so tired, after all, and it’s so warm… it doesn’t take you long at all before you’re snoozing away once more.

x—x—x

When you went back to sleep, you weren’t expecting to be thrown back into a dream—but you have a fleeting realisation, for just a moment, that that’s where you’ve ended up.

Everything is a little foggy.

“you—you won’t… you never…”

You pause—you’re waiting for him to continue. You’re in his room, and you don’t know where Taehyung is. The shower? Maybe. Seokjin is confessing something to you, something to do with his hybrid nature. It filters through your brain—you’ve messed up again, but it’s something different this time…

“Why are you upset, Jin? You scent me, Taehyung scents me. I thought that was what you needed to feel more comfortable? And at ease?” you push softly, prodding for an answer that will finally enlighten you. You’re on the bed now, reaching for his hands—were you on the bed before? You can’t remember, but it somehow makes sense that you’re there now. His hands are startlingly, lucidly warm in your own.

“Y-yes! We do! Because we care about you!” his tone has grown sharper now, voice lower and rougher. “But you—you don’t do it, and you never do it, so how are we supposed to f—”

It clicks into place in your head about midway through his rant, what has got him all bothered this time—the information comes to you like a premonition. A hum escapes you, and you shuffle closer to him on the bed, watching his gaze rest elsewhere. At least, it does until he feels your hands come to his waist where it blends into the sight flare of his hips, material bunching in your grasp.

Maybe its because a part of you can tell that this is far too fuzzy and far-fetched to be real, that this is really just a dream, but something foreign and brazen wells up in you, fills every inch of your body like a hand slipping into a glove. You’ve never had these thoughts before, but at the same time… they don’t feel unfamiliar. The urge you’re feeling isn’t one you recognise but it doesn’t feel out of place.

Even so, when you move you’re surprised by your own boldness—its like you’re only controlling a portion of your own body, and the rest of it is acting out a script you’ve never seen.

“You think I don’t care about you because I haven’t ever scented you, Jinnie?” you ask, tone soft but clear. His ears flick towards you before flying back, his tail flicking once behind him. His cheeks are a familiar pink, but the heaviness of his golden eyes isn’t something you recognise—you struggle to discern, even in your dreamlike state of omnipotence, exactly what you’re seeing. An optimistic thought whispers across your mind; is it yearning you glimpse? “Even though I tell you every day, and every night, how much you mean to me?”

Seokjin stumbles over his words as he fumbles with his grip on you, eyes wide and stuck on your face. You don’t remember the transition, don’t think it even happened, but his back is pressed to the pillows now, and you hover above him. The soft cotton in your grasp is all too easily pushed up to allow your fingers to brush his skin—wasn’t his shirt different before? It’s not important enough to keep you occupied.

“N-no, I mean y-yes, b-but you—”

“Alright, Seokjin, I understand,” you breathe, meeting his gaze and taking in the way he shudders at your words, confusion flicking across his features. “You want me to scent you? I’ll scent you.”

The poor fox hybrid doesn’t even have a chance to orient himself after those words before you’re swinging a thigh over his hips, knees pressing into the lush bedding. He scrambles to adjust out of instinct, unintentionally helping you in the process as he tips you forward, your face landing against his neck. Immediately, he freezes, the slightest sound catching in his throat, and you know you’re on the right track. Distantly, you realise the dream would have carried you here no matter what.

You allow your arms to slip and embrace him, laying against him for a moment until you feel his racing heart calm just a tad; it’s an odd detail that sticks out to you amongst the fog of everything else. Then, you turn your head and take in a long, deep breath, and it starts thudding frantically away all over again. His hands clutch the material of your shirt tentatively, chest moving yours with it with each inhale.

Realising where your face is pressed, somewhat playfully you smile and hum against the smooth skin of his neck, feeling his whole body shudder beneath you in response. He rasps, voice thick, “y-y/n—”

He doesn’t finish whatever he begins to say, though, because in the next second you’re nuzzling your face against him, tip of your nose brushing the dip beneath his jaw before it’s replaced by your lips. He chokes mid-sentence, breath catching audibly in his throat, and you’ve never been so endeared and… other things, in your life.

Yearning, yearning, yearning—it fills you to the brim and you feel you’re about to overflow.

You don’t give him much of a chance to adjust, especially since you suddenly recall exactly how he was when you first let him scent you, barely a week ago.

At the sudden sensation of your tongue dragging along the flesh beneath his jaw, Seokjin jerks and whines.

You blink your eyes open, the harshness of the sunlight filtering in through the window making you snap them shut once more.

What. The fuck.

The details of the dream are still fresh in your mind, but you can feel them slipping away even as you ease your eyes open to check where you are. Okay, you’re in your room. What just happened, didn’t happen. What even…

As you lay and mull over the contents of your current reality, it sinks in exactly who and what happened in your dream—instantly, your face burns. You’re mortified, and only now do you suddenly recall the two hybrids that had been sharing your bed.

One of which, you just almost had a raunchy dream about.

To your surprise, though, when your gaze flicks to either side of you, the bed is empty of anyone but yourself. Instantly, relief flushes through you. They probably got up to make breakfast, and of course they have no idea about the contents of your dream. You’re just being paranoid because you’re somewhat ashamed right now.

God, you need to repent—but you’ll do that later. In the meantime, you’re just thankful that your two hybrid housemates are none the wiser to the mess that is currently going on in your brain.

Little do you know, that the reason they’d fled your bed early was because of the telling, sweet scent that begin to sink into their senses partway through your dream, and the instincts that had begun to rise within them in response to it.

a/n: happy birthday to me!! please let me know what u think and whether u enjoyed by leaving a like n reblog!!!! <3 <3

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justice4harwin · 3 years

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Light’s Corruption-Chapter VII

Summary: With few friends at the Little Palace, Alina must work to win the favour of her fellow grisha and their commander, who makes her feel light headed every time she sees him.

After training in Os Alta for two years, the king grows tired of waiting and demands the Sun Summoner joins a western post near the Fjerdan border along with the rest of The Second Army to test her abilities.

Something happens. Suddenly, Alina wants blood to run down the rivers and those who stand in her and The Darkling’s way will be blinded by her light and swallowed by his shadows.

It won’t be pretty.

Pairing: The DarklingxAlina

Rating: 18+ (better safe than sorry, u know)

Anyone fancy a playlist?

As usual, the tags are in the comments; if you no longer want to be in the list or wanna be added, please don’t hesitate to let me know :)

Click here for chapter VI

Chapter 7: Within the Palace's Walls

Dear General Kirigan,

Dear General

Dear Kirigan

Dear Darkling

"Ugh!" Alina let her face drop on top of the paper, not caring if the ink got into her face, and groaned, loudly and at length. "Why?!" She asked into the nothingness of her room.

She had no reason to write to him. She knew he must've had frequent reports of the ongoings of the Little Palace, so she had no other excuse except to admit the truth, which was that she craved his attention, even if he was days away.

This was so pathetic of her; letting go of a life-long unrequited love just to fall into the arms of the first man who complimented her, even if she did feel a strange pull towards him.

What she needed was time for herself. Yes. She had finally said goodbye to Mal, falling for someone else so quickly would do her no good.

Oh, but Saints! The way in which he had kissed her, like he'd been waiting for centuries, like she was a treasure, like he truly wanted her. She had kissed people before, but never like that. She had enjoyed it, sure, but always stopped it before the clothes started to disappear. It usually bored people, but Alina didn't mind that much. It wasn't like when Genya was in the room while she bathed, helping her get to whenever she needed to be in time by pulling at the knots in her hair and handing her a towel. Genya was trustworthy, she was her friend and she had never given her one of those looks that had made her uncomfortable during her training at Poliznaya, nor made an unwanted comment or advance on her figure.

But The Darkling… That day, she had felt more than willing to let him have his way with her; nobody had set her body aflame the way The Darkling had done that afternoon a few weeks prior; she dreamt of it at night and woke up sweaty and hot, and it was a real effort to not daydream about it during her day.

General Imbecile Brute,

I write to you on this day to let you know of the first snow at the Little Palace. It makes quite the pretty paint...from the inside.

Also, I cannot stop thinking about you and your kiss, and I've been staring at the rose you gave me for such long amounts of time I fear my eyes will cross and I'll be stuck like that forever.

Please, tell me: do you feel the same? Mark 'yes' or 'no'.

Forever at your service,

Alina Starkov, Sun Summoner, Idiot.

Ps: You're not an imbecile, only a little rude; and you're not a brute, but some of your manners need polishing. Other than that, you're perfect.

Signed again,

Alina Starkov, she who lacks decency.

She looked at the letter, a low, prolonged, pitiful sound parting from her lips that turned into an animalistic groan. She grabbed the piece of paper, scrunched it into a small ball and threw it into her fireplace.

The snow covered the grounds of the Little Palace almost entirely, the lake would soon be completely frozen, and finalize the beautiful picture. Some Grisha were excited over the opportunity to skate. Alina had never done it, but Marie and Nadia promised to teach her.

From her horse, Alina moved uneasily. She still wasn't used to horse-riding, but Nina had invited her along with a few of her friends, who were all of different orders. It was a chance she wouldn't miss.

She tugged her kefta closer and held onto the reigns, advancing slowly along with the group, heading to the edges of the woods that surrounded the place.

A Fabrikator passed her a flask of kvas, and despite her dislike for the strong drink, Alina took it anyways and tried not to grimace as the liquid went down her throat.

If she were honest, she'd rather be inside the warm walls of her room in the Little Palace, chattering the afternoon away with Genya. She hadn't need to ask if the Tailor could join them at the stables; Alina was well aware of how little regard the other Grisha had for her -until they needed something-.

"I heard a few of you have been working on new keftas." she tried to make light conversation with the woman as she handed her her kvas back.

"Yes." she answered politely, "We're making a special fabric that should give us more freedom of movement during battle."

Alina rose her eyebrows. It wouldn't help her much if she didn't improve her fighting skills, but it was an interesting idea.

"How's it coming along?"

The woman tried to hide a grimace.

"It's complicated, but we're making some progress."

Alina smiled.

"Maybe you can tell me more about it during dinner." she suggested. "I, for once, would love a different type of trousers."

The woman smiled starkly, her blond hair getting on her face.

"They are rather stiff, aren't they?"

"I can barely flex my legs as it is."

The woman, whose name was Lada Alina remembered, agreed.

"I know. They're not suitable." she said in a strange tone, to which Alina gave her an odd, sideways look.

"Did you hear Zoya is back?" Fedyor interrupted, marching up to keep up with them.

Alina stared at him, groaned, and rolled her eyes.

"That's great." she said dryly.

Her absence was nice while it lasted.

"Maybe if I get under her skin and she attacks again, The General will send her off for a longer time. Or better yet, I could actually beat her."

Who was she kidding? Zoya was a formidable fighter, and Alina was just starting to win every now and then. Also, she suspected that Nina might have gone easy on her during their first sparring match a few weeks prior. She hadn't won against her ever since.

"Tell me about it." the woman in question said, rolling her eyes. "I don't understand her obsession with being on The General's inner circle."

"Says the one who is in the inner circle." Fedyor pointed out.

"Barely." Nina made a gesture with her hand, as if trying to rest importance to the matter. "Besides, it's not such a big deal. I don't know why everyone makes such a fuss about it."

"Well, the higher we are, the better we can protect other Grisha." Alina said, almost hesitantly. "I mean, if we have The General's ear, more ideas will flow about. I'm sure everyone has something to contribute to the cause."

"You don't need to worry about that, sun bean;" Nina smirked. "You're the Sun Summoner, it's likely he'll listen to you."

Alina's cheeks flushed as everyone in the group turned to stare at her.

"I think it's good to aim high;" Fedyor said, drifting the attention to himself, thanks the Saints. "As long as it's for the better of the Second Army."

Nina looked away and uttered something only Alina heard.

"Oh, yeah, betterment of forced servitude."

The Summoner stiffened on her saddle at the bitter words. Was Nina unhappy at the Little Palace? Why? She was one of the most powerful Grisha there; she lived in the most secured place in all Ravka, and her General held her in high regard.

A part of Alina wished she had never hidden her light. Maybe it would've been for the better to leave Keramzin, to leave Mal behind sooner.

It also made her think of someone who scarcely passed through her mind those days: her own mother.

She shook her head, ridding herself of such thoughts. She was thankful for the commodities and safe life she had at the Little Palace. Even if she was one of a kind, everyone else seemed to be adapting well to her, especially since she began to summon on her own and join in their little games by the lake.

She had been hesitant about it at first, but Genya insisted that going would be a great opportunity to both show her power and make allies.

"Besides, they won't believe you're a snob or a fraud if you show them a little." she had said, lazily lounging on a chair as they shared a nice tea one afternoon, while the queen took an especially long nap the very same day the Duke of Balakirev had arrived at court.

Lately, Alina felt more normal, and she was sure that her latest choices had a lot to do with it. From showcasing her powers, to sitting in different sections on different tables during meals and just talking normally about trivial things -even if those did exhaust her mind- and wearing an Etherealki kefta, she was more approachable, and the other Grisha seemed to slowly start to notice it too.

"It's not enough."

"We surely do deserve some more credit." she spoke, even if she didn't fully believe in the sentiment. The First Army was full of otkazat'sya, and they didn't have the advantages of bullet-proof clothing, private tents, furs for the winter and three decent meals per day.

It was all so difficult for Alina. She had once envied the advantages The Second Army possessed over The First, yet she couldn't deny there were other kinds of dangers for the Grisha, that not everything was perfect inside the walls of Os Alta.

Like the distrust of those who weren't like them, their fear, tamed only by their usefulness due only to the Black Heretic's greed.

All around her, her fellow Grisha nodded their agreements.

She wondered, briefly, what would Grisha life be like in Ravka if The Fold hadn't been created in the first place. What would happen if she ever managed to tear it down?

She didn't want to dwindle in those thoughts further.

With the Winter Fete approaching, everyone at the Little and Grand Palace seemed to buzz with all kinds of different energy. The servants were comprehensively nervous and stressed as they ran from one place to the other. Alina's fellow Grisha were either excited or indifferent, but none the less they all put the same amount of effort into practicing their yearly demonstration.

As for Alina herself, she had received the news that she was expected to showcase her power in front of the royal family and the other nobles of Ravka.

"The king wanted to throw a bigger party; invite diplomats from all continents and such, but General Kirigan insisted that it wasn't necessary yet." Genya said one afternoon, as Alina braided her hair.

She was seated very still, her eyes continuously darting from one side to the other as if trying to peek at her friend's work, concern etched on her face.

"He seems impatient." Alina commented, to which Genya huffed, accommodating her friend's new possessions on her vanity with a precision that seemed borderline obsessive.

"You have no idea. He can't wait to see the mighty Sun Summoner." she said, pouting and trying to imitate his deeper voice.

Alina frowned, said nothing, and continued braiding, her movements slowing but almost precise.

The Darkling

Miss Starkov,

Due to my sudden absence, I had no time to notify you that I shall oversee your training personally from now on.

Being far away, I do not wish for you to stall, so I leave you some instructions on what to practice and how, and a few reading recommendations fo-

He leaned back in his chair and sighed.

He was being a fool, and he hated it.

Writing to her with instructions on how to practice her summoning was a foolish idea. She was barely starting and needed overseeing, and the only one besides himself who could help her was his mother, who remained bitter at the woman. He really wanted to know what Alina had said to Baghra to make her so upset.

He almost smiled, feeling something wickedly, childishly happy in his chest at the possibilities.

Tossing the letter into the fire, he leaned back in his chair.

Teaching her through letters would only lead to disaster, but how else would he know about her? How else could he earn her trust while being so far away?

Pathetic.

"Moi Soverennyi." Ivan presented himself, bowing before further entering his tent. He offered him an envelope. "A letter from the Grand Palace."

The Darkling took it and quickly read it, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Although he had convinced the king that inviting foreign diplomats was not yet a good idea, the stupid man insisted that the Sun Summoner performed alongside the other Grisha. Alina was finally able to summon on her own, but he knew a part of her still feared her gift; putting on a show for an audience was not the best idea.

He…worried? for her?

"We will have to be back in time for the Winter Fete."

Ivan grunted. "I hate that thing."

The Darkling nodded in agreement. After all those centuries, he was more than bored of them. It was always the same waste of time and resources for his army, only to entertain the nobles for a few hours. As if they would not go back to turning their back on them the very next day.

Those fools often seemed to forget that his Grisha could have them for lunch if they so wanted it.

Privileged as The Second Army may seem, people were wary of them, even the nobles who lived in the surrounding areas.

"But they will not attempt anything so long as they need us."

"We have little choice, Ivan."

"We could always host it near The Fold and accidently push the royal family inside it." he said, sardonic as usual.

"Tempting." The Darkling smirked, setting the letter aside with little care.

The Heartrender stepped aside to allow him out, and The Darkling marched towards the river, where a few of his fabrikators were working on a new skiff. It wasn't nearly as grand as the one Alina had boarded that fateful day, but that was due to a different purpose.

There was a strange device being placed underneath it.

"Are you sure this will work?" he asked Petya.

The woman hesitated for the briefest moment, and The Darkling reminded himself internally to summon new graves for his Grisha.

"Such a pity." he thought, sincerely.

"Yes. So long as the Squaller sets a slow pace and nobody exerts themselves too much, they should be able to pass in relative tranquillity."

He had a feeling it would not work. His Grisha had already tried several times to cross through the river, but David Kostyk was sure his new invention would cancel out the soft sounds of the skiff against the water and dwindle the sounds of a heartbeat.

"Do not expect the path to be clear." he said.

"That is exactly why we're going, sir." a Squaller, Igor, approached and bowed. "If this works and we can clear the path, we should be able to make it to the other side eventually."

"Let us hope it does not take too many tries." he said.

Too many Grisha lives, he had wanted to say.

"David is rarely wrong, Moi Soverennyi." Petya said.

That was true. David was one of his best Grisha, which was why The Darkling tried to keep him inside the safety of the Little Palace's walls unless absolutely necessary.

Still, The Darkling though the plan stupid and a waste; but it was either that or forcing Alina into The Fold, and she was far from being ready to make a crossing, even through its thinnest point up north.

As a Squaller, a Heartrender, two Healers and two Inferni boarded the skiff, followed by a few strong otkazat'sya men from the First Army, The Darkling thought of David.

He thought of Alina.

And his thoughts returned to David.

With a sharp nod, he sent off the small team to do their last test and headed back to his tent, where he began to write a letter addressed to Mr. Kostyk.

Click here for chapter 8

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfic #alina starkov #aleksander morozova #darklina #darklina fic #alina x darkling #alina x aleksander #genya safin #nina zenik #fedyor kaminsky #david kostyk

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 3 years

Text

Parallels | Chapter 6

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist! | Parallels Masterlist

Characters: OC! Violet Grace Dawson, Luke Patterson, Julie Molina, Carrie Wilson, Bobby Wilson, Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer, Flynn nolastname, Willie nolastname, Nick Danforth-Evans, Dirty Candy

Guideline: Sunset Universe is the universe in which Sunset Curve is famous and Violet is friends with Carrie, Julie and Flynn. Candy Universe is the universe in which Dirty Candy is more famous and Sunset Curve has broken up.

Song(s) used: Now or Never - Sunset Curve / Livin’ on a High Wire - Lemonade Mouth

Warnings: Bobby raps in this... I have a headcanon that he’s a rapper (also made the most sense out of all four?) / Mention of parents divorce / Mention of alcohol and intoxication

Words: 6,302

“Are you sure that was such a good move?” Bobby asked, brows furrowed, “Promising them you’re joining the band while you’re still in Dirty Candy? That won’t work…”

Violet shrugged dismissively. “It worked for Alex and I’m sure it’s gonna work on Reggie…” She heaved in a breath, gathering her courage for the next part in the plan. “Where do we find our favorite bassist?”

“The library?” Violet asked when the Wilson siblings brought her to the school’s library. “You’re telling me the Reggie in this universe actually studies?” Carrie nodded in response. “Groundbreaking.”

Carrie and Violet made their way to the back of the library where they found Reggie with Dana and Dexter. Dana, Violet knew, was an aspiring musician who actually joined Dirty Candy in her universe. Dexter was a friend of Nick’s and part of his band.

“Reggie,” Violet spoke up, getting the students’ attention.

“Violet? Carrie?” Confusion dripped off their names as they rolled off Reggie’s lips.

Dana narrowed her eyes at the two girls. “What do you want?” she spat.

Choosing to ignore the blatant hate that Dana spewed at the girls, Violet focused back on Reggie and shot him a smile. “I heard you’re a pretty good bassist…” She tested the waters.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that…” he answered.

“Well… I was wondering if you would be interested in coming back to Sunset Curve?”

Reggie’s eyes widened before he scoffed. He was clearly taken aback, but tried to play it cool. “We broke up for a reason, Violet. Not gonna happen.”

“Not even when I’m joining the band?” she tried again, which very clearly sparked a little more interest as the boy’s eyebrows shot upwards before his teeth started gnawing at his lower lip.

“Okay,” he replied. “If you get Luke to join your band, I’m in too.”

Carrie and Violet exchanged glances and nodded. They were a little surprised this one was so easy, though they should’ve expected that. Reggie had always been more of a trustworthy puppy than a leading lion anyway.

“Cool. We’ll keep you posted,” Carrie said and the two girls left the students alone.

Now, their next stop was Luke Patterson. The real challenge out of the three boys. Not only because he was going to be the hardest to convince, but because Violet was nervous to see him again. She hadn’t forgotten what he had said to her and even though this was a different version, she knew seeing him would make her nervous and cause her to shut down.

“Yo, Luke!” Carrie yelled at the group of boys on the lacrosse field. He stopped mid-conversation with Nick before jogging up to the girls that had beckoned him.

“You girls lost?” he asked and pushed his hair back.

That crush the girls were talking about in the other universe seemingly still counted in another universe. Violet’s throat closed up and her entire body heated up from the inside out.

“I uhm…” she stuttered and stumbled, but no proper words came out.

After spending a few days with this new Violet, Carrie had gotten to know this version pretty well, and decided to take over from her. “We were wondering if you’d consider rejoining Sunset Curve if Violet would join the band too?” she asked the jock confidently.

Luke chuckled. “Really? What about Dirty Candy?”

“She can do both,” Carrie replied in Violet’s place as the girl didn’t even dare to look Luke in the eye. For whatever reason that was, Carrie would find out later.

The brunette jock let his eyes glide down the shy girl in front of him. She was going to lead their band? This little tiny mouse over here? He remembered her being more obnoxious and confident, but she was a lot less up close.

“No, thank you,” he said and started jogging away.

“No, thank you? Seriously?!” Carrie’s shrill voice stopped him.

He sighed and turned around again. “Look, Sunset Curve didn’t work out because of your brother. I doubt it will when she joins in. We don’t need no Bubblegum Princess in our non-existing band.”

As Luke walked away, Violet felt herself falling farther and farther away from her own universe. There was no way she was ever going to make it back. There was no way she could ever get that band back together.

“What do we do now?” she asked Carrie. “How are we gonna get them to talk?”

Carrie smiled and wrapped her arm around Violet’s shoulders, guiding her back towards the school building. “The only way Carrie Wilson knows how to,” she said dramatically. Violet looked up to her best friend with questioning eyes. “Throwing a party!”

Carrie entered the garage after their last school day on Friday where her three best friends were waiting for her, impatiently. The blonde girl had promised them she’d get them all Sunset Curve tickets for their gig at the Orpheum that night.

The place where it all began for the boys was the Orpheum. It was where they had their first big showcase and a manager signed them to their label. That night’s show was the most important one to Sunset Curve, coming back after skyrocketing in the charts and around the country for a while.

It was the most important gig to the girls, too. With their tickets, they’d be able to go and see the band live while also setting their whole plan in motion to get Luke to fall in love with Violet.

To say it made Violet a little nervous would be an understatement. Though in her world, she looked like this young woman that oozed confidence, she didn’t quite feel so hot right about now. The Luke from her universe was a bit of a loser. Someone she’d easily wrap around her finger. But this Luke could be completely different and that scared.

“Did you get the tickets?” Julie asked with wide eyes and a nervous, bouncy leg Violet stopped by placing her hand on her knee as she sat next to her on the couch.

Carrie smirked and showed them the four concert tickets in her hand. “Not only that…” she added before showing her other hand, which held four backstage passes. Two girls in front of her squealed and got up from their spots to admire the passes up close.

Violet, however, stayed put and tried to manage a smile. A smile that turned into a grimace before finally disappearing from her face. One that Carrie immediately noticed fading.

“You okay, Vi?” she asked, causing the two other girls to turn to their friend as well.

The girl on the sofa lifted her eyes to meet her friends’. “What– Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

Carrie’s lips pressed together in a thin line as her eyes met Julie’s and Flynn’s. All three of them knew something was off. She wasn’t the confident girl they met days ago. She wasn’t the overly demanding, no-nonsense woman. For a moment, they saw the rawest possible side of Violet. One that reminded them of their Violet.

“You’re gonna be fine, babes,” said Julie and rejoined Violet on the couch, wrapping her arm around the girl’s shoulder.

Violet scoffed. “Of course I am. What makes you think I’m not?” She was trying to feign her confidence, but her friends could see right through her.

“Your face,” Flynn spoke up. Her bottom lip stuck out into a pout whilst she joined the two girls on the sofa, Carrie following her example. “You look like Julie when she has to play in front of a crowd.”

Julie slapped Flynn’s shoulder playfully before Carrie joined into the conversation again. “What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours, Lettie… Maybe we can help?”

Violet wasn’t used to hearing the nickname anymore. It was something her father used to call and she hadn’t seen him in a good few years since her parents got divorced. But if it bothered her, she didn’t show it.

“In my universe, Luke is a loser. He gave up on his biggest dream. He’s still the school’s jock, yes, but people know what happened to him and they pity him. He’s an extremely easy target to wrap around your finger. But this version of him…” she heaved in a deep breath. “I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to wrap him around my finger as easily.”

Flynn lifted her hand and tucked a strand of hair behind Violet’s ear while Julie spoke up. “This one is known as the womanizer of the band,” she said.

Carrie continued, “In every tabloid, on every internet page, he’s seen with a new woman on his arm.”

Violet’s eyebrows furrowed. That didn’t sound like the Luke she knew at all. “I think it’s a publicity stunt but…” Flynn said and shrugged. Violet slowly nodded her head, processing all the information she was given. When Flynn saw this, she nudged Violet’s shoulder. “You’re gonna do great. You’re a charming, attractive woman and, from what I’ve seen so far, pretty confident in your skin.”

The girl smiled, and her friends even noticed a tint of red coloring her cheeks. “You got this,” said Julie with a smile. “You so got this!”

With the girl’s words echoing in Violet’s mind, she went back home and, when she started getting ready that night, she hyped herself up. She listened to Sunset Curve’s albums on repeat to at least know a few of the songs and danced around her bedroom whilst trying on various outfits.

Looking at her own reflection in the mirror, she judged the outfit she was wearing. A light green dress with a flower pattern. She wasn’t normally one to wear flowers, but this looked really cute on her, especially with the black belt she had fastened around her waist. It perfectly showed all her curves and had quite the plunging neckline, which showed the right amount of cleavage to put to use when flirting with Luke.

As the thought of Luke flashed through her mind, she felt the nerves bubble up again. Never in her life had she been this nervous except for the first time she performed for a live audience with Dirty Candy. Or when she was the lead in the musical in seventh grade.

Her train of thought got interrupted before its fatal crash by someone barging into her room, all excited. Violet almost didn’t recognize him until he spoke up. “Vivi, you gotta see this, honey!” her father exclaimed while holding something out to her.

Violet didn’t even bother to look at what was in his hands, she was busy freaking out over the fact that her father, the person she hadn’t seen since he divorced her mom, was in her bedroom.

Trying to keep her cool, Violet swallowed all her pride and smiled. “Looks cool, dad,” she said. “I uhm… I’m getting ready for a night out with the girls, so could you…” she pointed her thumb towards the door.

“A night out?” he asked, his brows furrowed. “You never go on nights out…”

Violet scolded her parallel self for not living her full life here but shrugged her shoulders at her dad dismissively. “It’s a concert. Bobby Wilson’s band is playing the Orpheum tonight and Carrie has tickets.”

“Ah,” her dad said, nodding his head. “Cool. I’ll let you get ready then–” he looked down at her outfit. “That’s a pretty dress, sweetie. It’s been a while since you wore it.” He gave her one last smile before heading out the door and shutting it on his way out.

Violet exhaled a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding before grabbing her phone and calling the first person she could think of over FaceTime. Within seconds, the smiling, blonde haired best friend appeared on the small screen.

“Hey ba–” before she could finish her sentence, Violet cut her off.

“When were you gonna tell me my parents were still together?!” she whisper-shouted to make sure her dad didn’t hear in case he was still in the hallway.

Carrie was taken aback for a moment and blinked rapidly. “Your parents are divorced?” she asked and Violet nodded, remembering the terrible fights and anxious nights when her dad came home drunk for the nth time. She remembered hearing her mother cry in her bedroom and being unable to do anything about it. She had hated her dad for a good while after that. But seeing him here, now, reminded her of the good days they’d had back in the day.

“I’m sorry, Vi,” Carrie said, her usual bright smile turning into a sad frown. “What happened between them?” she asked, curiously. “If you wanna tell me, that is.”

Violet heaved in a deep breath. “It’s been years since it happened, but five years ago, my mom kicked dad out of the house… He’d come home drunk, night after night, and I would hear mom and dad fighting while I was in bed… Mom couldn’t handle it anymore, so she packed his bags for him and kicked him out. They made everything official and we haven’t seen him or heard from him since the divorce.” A tear rolled down Violet’s cheek as she spoke, but she wiped it away quickly and chuckled. “Sometimes, I wonder if he’s even still alive.”

“That’s terrible, Vi, I’m sorry…”

Violet shrugged. “It’s alright. I’ve gotten over it by now… Until I just saw him here.”

“I would’ve told you if I’d known, Violet… I’m sorry.”

The brunette chuckled tearily. “Stop saying sorry, Care. It’s all good. It just took me off guard, that’s all.” Carrie pressed her lips together and tilted her head a little in compassion. “But let’s talk outfits, shall we?” A flash of nostalgia coursed through her as she remembered her and Carrie talked about outfits before she got here.

“What are the options?” Carrie asked, respecting Violet’s wish to drop the previous subject. Violet got up from her bed and placed her phone on the chest of drawers opposite of her bed.

“This dress,” she said and twirled to show the cute dress she was wearing. Carrie hummed, impressed by the outfit, but not entirely convinced just yet. Violet then reached for the clothes she had sprawled across her bed. “Or ripped jeans with a crop top and a cute jacket.” She juggled to hold the three items up to the camera of her phone. “But it’s a pink jacket and pink is your color, so I’m not sure about this one.”

“It’s not my color here?” Carrie suggested. “What else you got?”

“Uhm…” she placed the clothes back on the bed and reached for another one. “This.” She showed a black mesh top with gold stars embroidered on it, along with black skinny jeans.

Carrie gasped. “Did that come out of our Violet’s closet?!” she asked.

“Yup,” Violet nodded. “I found it near the back of the closet. I take it your Violet doesn’t wear it that often?”

“Try at all!” Carrie exclaimed. “Can you try it on for me, please?”

Violet nodded and started unbuckling the belt on her dress.

“You always change in front of cameras?” Carrie asked, giggling, which caused Violet to stop in her tracks with her fingers curling around the hem of the dress.

“Carrie and I always change in front of one another,” she shrugged and pulled the dress over her head, leaving her in just her underwear. She pulled the mesh top over the black bralet she was wearing and squeezed herself into the black skinnies.

“Needs a belt,” Carrie demanded, trying to hide the obvious blush that had crept to her cheeks. Violet nodded in agreement and reached for the belt she had put over the dress before. “Necklaces.”

Obeying her best friend’s demands, Violet browsed through the box of jewellery the other Violet had on the cupboard until finding some gold necklaces that would go well with her outfit.

“Now black ankle boots.”

Violet nodded again and went into the closet to find black velvet boots with the slightest block heel on them. A smile befell her face as she inspected the shoes. These were shoes she would buy and, judging from what she’d heard about the other Violet, something she wouldn’t buy. There had to be a part of her in her parallel self, more than just their appearances.

She quickly put the boots on her feet and showed the outfit to Carrie over FaceTime, earning a gasp the second she walked into frame. “If Luke doesn’t fall for you now, then that boy is blind.”

Violet giggled and sat down on the floor in front of her window, taking her phone with her, so she could talk to Carrie some more. It was the only familiar thing she had and though their dynamic had changed from the one she had with her Carrie. It still felt somewhat normal.

“When are we leaving?” Violet asked when a honk was heard from outside her house. Furrowing her eyebrows, she looked outside to find Julie getting out of a car that was parked in front of Violet’s house. “I guess the answer’s now…” she giggled.

Carrie’s eyes widened. “Julie’s already there?!” she exclaimed and Violet watched as the girl scrambled up from her bed and started rushing through her bedroom.

“I’m gonna let you get ready. See you in a while!” she said but Carrie was too busy to hear, so Violet pressed the red button and took one last glance in the mirror. After fixing a bit of run-out mascara, she grabbed all of her stuff and made her way downstairs where her dad was talking to Julie at the front door.

“Hey Vi,” Julie greeted once her eyes fell on the girl. “Looking good!”

Violet’s dad turned now too and had to blink a few times. “Since when do you have that in your closet?!” he asked and Violet could feel the anger rising within him. She had heard that tone on him enough to know what was going to happen if she didn’t step in.

“I’ve had this for ages, dad,” she grabbed Julie’s hand. “Now, we have to go ‘cause otherwise, we’ll be late.” She dragged the Latina girl out the door at a speed where she could just about say goodbye to Mister Dawson before he was completely out of earshot.

Once the girls were safely in Mister Molina’s gray Subaru Outback, Violet could finally breathe properly. Seeing her father again had her a little on edge, she couldn’t lie about that but she had to play it cool.

“You girls ready?” Mister Molina questioned, looking back at the girl in his backseat and the girl next to him. The two nodded excitedly before the man started the car again and drove off to go and pick up Carrie and Flynn.

The closer they got to the Orpheum, the more scared Violet got. It had gotten to the point where her outfit didn’t feel right anymore and she felt like her makeup had already melted off. This plan wasn’t going to go the way they wanted and Violet knew this. Something was going to go wrong.

“We’re here,” Ray said in a sing-song voice as he stopped the car. “I’m picking you girls up when it’s over, yeah? Julie, keep your phone close and your friends closer, okay?”

“Yes, dad,” Julie replied with an eye roll before planting a kiss to her father’s cheek and getting out of the car with the girls.

The wait in line was agonizing. So agonizing that Violet didn’t even participate in the excited conversation the girls were having about this concert. They clearly looked forward to it more than Violet did. But that might have been because their life didn’t depend on it.

“You got this,” Julie mumbled in Violet’s ear as her fingers laced through hers in an attempt to calm the girl’s nerves as they waited at the front row for the boys to get on the stage.

Violet had barely noticed that they had gotten to the front. Everything felt so hazy and unreal, like all of this was just a dream. But then the lights turned out and bright flashes lit up the stage as a guitar riff zoomed through the venue’s speakers.

Soon thereafter, Luke’s voice followed the sound of the drums, guitars and bass, and the entire crowd went completely insane as they sang along and danced around to the music the boys were creating on the stage.

“Take off Last stop Countdown till we blast open the top”

“Face first Full charge Electric hammer to the heart”

“Clocks move forward But we don't get older, no Kept on climbing Till our stars collided”

“And all the times we fell behind Were just the keys to paradise”

This was, thankfully, the one song Violet had had on repeat while she was getting ready and so, she knew the lyrics to the chorus. Softly, she sang along with Luke while keeping her eyes on all four of the boys.

“Don't look down 'Cause we're still rising Up right now And even if we Hit the ground We'll still fly Keep dreaming like we'll live forever But live it like it's now or never”

The more songs they sang, the looser Violet became and the less nervous, too. Though she had never thought she was ever going to see these boys on a stage together, she felt a sense of pride rushing through her. She was proud of Bobby, mostly, since she had the closest bond with him. In her universe, she had never seen him this confident, this happy while being in the center of attention. For the first time in knowing Bobby, she actually found him a little attractive, but she would never tell him that. Or Carrie, for that matter.

“Okay,” Luke panted into the microphone as they finished playing In Your Starlight, one of Violet’s new favorite songs. “We have one last song for you guys before we head out. This is a new one that will soon be released as a single for our next album…” The crowd cheered loudly for him and the chuckle that echoed through the venue did something to Violet that she couldn’t quite place. “This is called Livin’ on a High Wire.” Luke stepped back from the microphone and played a sick guitar riff whilst Bobby walked behind the keyboard to his left.

Alex joined in with his drums at the same time Bobby’s voice floated through the speakers.

“Listen up This is the story on how we lived The glory of what we did It started when we were kids With music up in our heads We said”

Violet’s eyes were wide and her jaw dropped when she heard Bobby rap the verse. Bobby Wilson could rap and she had no clue. As quickly as she got surprised by this new revelation, Luke’s voice woke her up and did something to her insides.

“I've been out on the edge Breathin' a little bit of fresh air Big dreams, I took a chance Held out for everything I got here I've been feeling this life's a circus Hanging on without a fear”

Reggie and Alex joined in on the chorus, bringing the whole thing together and the whole crowd jumping to this song they didn’t know quite yet.

“Livin' on a high wire Runnin' through a wildfire You can't shake me, I'm not going nowhere Walking on a tight rope No net, high hopes Step back, I'm gonna make it over”

“Na na na na na na na na na Livin' on a high wire Na na na na na na na na na Livin' on a high wire”

Then, Bobby came in again with his rapping. This whole show had been slapping Violet with surprises left, right and center. Never did she think she would actually enjoy watching a concert by a band that didn’t even exist in her world anymore.

“This is the story on how we lived The glory of what we did It started when we were kids With music up in our heads We said”

Luke took his turn again when his eyes landed on the girl in the front row. She wasn’t quite moving, just her head flicking back and forth from him to Bobby and back. Sometimes, her eyes would land on Reggie, but most times, they were on him or Bobby. He smiled and his confidence got fuelled.

“Big top, turning round, no clowns I'm running as I hit the ground Front row, big show sold out So I'm ready for the crowd roar, let's go I've been feeling this life's a circus Hanging on without a fear”

“Livin' on a high wire Runnin' through a wildfire You can't shake me, I'm not going nowhere Walking on a tight rope No net, high hopes Step back, I'm gonna make it over”

By now, the crowd knew the words to the post-chorus and everyone sang along with them. Everyone except Violet. She had no clue what to do. Her nerves about the whole plan had vanished, but she was overwhelmed with all the things happening on the stage.

“Na na na na na na na na na Livin' on a high wire Na na na na na na na na na Livin' on a high wire”

Bobby grabbed the microphone from its stand as he stopped playing the keyboard and instead, moved towards the edge of the stage where his sister and friends were standing. He rapped the bridge like an absolute pro.

“When it comes to the beat Seeing that the heads are moving Move off your seat Achievement is what we're really doing Freedom of speech I'm in it just to win it I'm springin' and I can see it In the end that you can be it 'Cause it's patience, it's statements Famous greatness Movin' 'til you make it through And maybe you can make it too”

Bobby returned to his keyboard whilst Luke moved towards Reggie. Together and in the same microphone, Luke and Reggie sang the chorus with just Bobby playing on his keyboard.

“Livin' on a high wire You can't shake me, I'm not going nowhere Walking on a tight rope”

Alex joined back in with the drums, as did Luke and Reggie on their instruments while Luke retreated to his own microphone.

“No net, high hopes Step back, I'm gonna make it over”

Reggie’s high note echoed through Violet’s bones as the other three continued singing the post-chorus with the crowd backing them up ear-piercingly loud.

“Na na na na na na na na na Livin' on a high wire Na na na na na na na na na Livin' on a high wire Yeah, yeah Na na na na na na na na na Livin' on a high wire”

The last notes floated through the space before the audience burst into loud applause. Violet was stumped. She didn’t know what to do. She was so overwhelmed with everything that had happened in front of her. From hearing Now or Never to the new song just now, she felt an immense sense of pride and attraction to both Luke and Bobby. She didn’t know what to do with all of that information.

“Thank you, LA! We’ve been Sunset Curve!” Luke yelled into the microphone and stole another glance at the girl in the front row. She was still overwhelmed and didn’t move a muscle. Not even when her friends tried to shake her out of it. He chuckled as he noticed Carrie and Julie as one of her friends trying to bring the girl back with both feet to the ground.

As he took a step towards the wings, he took another glance and then it dawned on him. He knew that girl from somewhere but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it from where.

“Did you see that?!” Flynn yelled as the lights turned back on and the post-concert adrenaline buzzed through the venue. Her hands clasped at Violet’s arm, squeezing it in excitement. “Luke couldn’t keep his eyes off you!”

Violet scoffed. “He probably just thought what a complete weirdo I was, staring up at them in utter shock of how good they actually are.” She involuntarily rolled her eyes at her own behavior. It felt weird. Feeling proud of those boys up there. Feeling attracted to someone she just saw as a brother. It all felt weird.

“Let’s go say hi!” Carrie squeaked and pulled at Violet’s hand towards the side entrance that led to the backstage area. The nerves she felt beforehand came bubbling back and she could feel herself pulling back from Carrie.

Violet usually never felt this nervous. For nothing. She could perform in front of a good hundred people but meeting this one boy? That was just too much to handle for her.

The girls approached the band as they returned their instruments to the tech guys and excitedly chatted about the gig they had just done flawlessly. While Carrie’s smile widened, Violet’s nerves grew until they settled in her stomach and she felt like hurling.

“Hey guys!” Carrie greeted with a smile and immediately went to hug her brother.

“Aaah! Little Wilson!” Alex exclaimed excitedly before hugging the blonde girl as well.

Bobby looked at Violet while his sister went to hug the others. “Hey Violet,” he said, capturing the nervous girl’s attention. “Long time no see.”

Violet managed a smile and a deep breath in to gather all her courage. “Hey Bobbers,” she greeted and wrapped her arms around him as well since Julie and Flynn were hugging the others too. It must be a thing they did…

“Bobbers?” Bobby chuckled. “You haven’t called me Bobbers in ages. Are you okay?” he joked as they pulled away.

Violet’s mouth opened and closed as she thought of something to say but nothing came out. Thankfully, Carrie was confident and herself enough to jump in and save her. “She was just feeling nostalgic, bro. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.”

The girls exchanged a quick smile before Reggie interrupted their conversation. “You’ve changed your style, Violet,” he pointed out. “I quite like it. It’s more rock-chick.”

A heat surged to her cheeks as she looked down at the outfit she had chosen and wondered how much different the other Violet dressed. Judging from everything she’s heard, it was very different.

“That’s why I didn’t recognize you...” Luke mumbled, the epiphany causing his lips to curl up into a smile. “Y-you look great, Dawson.” If Violet didn’t know any better, she’d say he was a bit flustered. The thought of getting Luke Patterson all flustered gave her at least a tiny boost in her confidence.

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to, ya big rockstar,” Violet said sassily and flicked her hair over her shoulder. The confidence dripped from her lips and body, and her friends could all see it. The three of them exchanged glances before Carrie took the lead.

“You big rockstars got some time for common folk like us? Maybe we could get some food at Chubbie’s?” she suggested with her always charming smile. The boys exchanged glances, silently agreeing to go ahead with this suggestion.

“We do wanna get a shower first,” Alex then said, “But we’ll meet you at Chubbie’s in a few, yeah?” The girls nodded and each group turned another direction. Flynn and Julie wrapped an arm around Violet while Carrie wrapped hers around Julie.

Giggling, Flynn whisper-shouted, “And now we know the real reason why Luke couldn’t keep his eyes off you!”

“And that is?” Violet asked, though her cheeks already tinted pink. She knew the answer to this one, she just didn’t believe it.

Her three friends let out a loud laugh. “Because he thinks you’re hot, of course!” Julie cackled. “Rightfully so!” Violet’s cheeks felt as hot as the sun as her friends giggled at the fact that a boy was into their friend. Their plan was working.

The girls had taken a booth at the back of the diner, far away from any prying customers that might recognize the boys, who arrived about a milkshake and a half later.

Luke and Alex squeezed in with Flynn and Julie while Reggie and Bobby slid into the booth on Violet’s and Carrie’s side. Of course they made it so Luke and Violet were as close to each other as possible.

As the conversation flowed from life on the road to life in Los Feliz, Violet couldn’t help but notice Luke’s stares and glances. Not for one second could Luke take his eyes off of the girl. They were glued to her. But it didn’t make her that nervous anymore. Instead, it fuelled her confidence. Their plan was actually working.

“So, Violet,” Luke started when the laughter about something Flynn had said to Reggie died down. “What do you do in life?” he asked and all four girls let out a collective “uhm”.

“Well….” Violet dug through her brain to find something that sounded enough like their Violet to be true while still sounding remotely cool. “I’ve been… Working on a lot of music and, you know… going to school and stuff.”

While the boys looked at her with interest, the girls gave her cautious looks, hoping that, whatever came out of that girl’s mouth, would make sense for their Violet and didn’t give away that she might not be the Violet they used to know.

“We wouldn’t know,” Reggie responded and lifted his arm to rest on the back of the couch, behind Violet’s head. “We dropped out of school,” he whispered in her ear with a smirk on his face.

Violet wasn’t used to this behavior from Reggie. In her universe, Reggie was the dorky one. He was sweet and kind and kind of clumsy and not the brightest tool in the shed. He was the himbo-est of himbos. Not this confident, flirty dude that tactically placed his arm behind a girl's head.

“But you’re into making music?” Luke asked, completely dismissing Reggie’s flirty behavior. Violet nodded her head as she sipped from her strawberry milkshake. “I would love to see some of your work…. Maybe we could get together sometime?”

Violet nearly choked on her milkshake, but quickly recovered herself and wiped the splash of milkshake from her lip, making sure Luke noticed the action. “Yeah, who knows… Maybe… If you’re not too busy with your rockstar life, that is.”

The others around them stared at the two as though they had just said something insanely controversial. Jaws were dropped and eyes were either wide or narrowed in suspicion.

Before anyone could say anything, Julie’s phone ringing cut any of those possibilities away. Though each of them would like to know what was going on between the two of them. Luke was being more flirty than ever and Violet was more confident than ever before. Something didn’t quite add up here.

“Yeah, we’re at Chubbie’s, dad,” Julie said into her phone. “Okay! Yeah, see ya in a bit!” The girl hung up the phone and looked up at the group. “Dad’s gonna be here in a few minutes,” she informed them.

“I’m gonna go for a wee, then,” Carrie announced and Violet, Reggie and Bobby all stood up so the girl could slide out. Before Violet could take a seat again, Carrie grabbed her by the wrist. “You’re coming with me.”

“Okay,” Violet mumbled and let her best friend lead her towards the restrooms. “What’s this all about?” she asked.

“I need a wee,” Carrie told her and disappeared into one of the stalls. “But also, what was that between you and Luke?!”

Violet shrugged before turning to the mirror. She fixed her hair and a bit of her run-out lipstick whilst speaking. “I’m playing hard-to-get… Kinda? I guess?”

“You think that’s gonna work?”

“It seems to be working. Didn’t you see the way he looked at me? He’s into me, I think.”

Carrie flushed and exited the stall, looking straight into Violet’s eyes. “And are you?”

“No,” Violet defended. “It’s all for the plan.”

The blonde girl heaved in a deep breath and started washing her hands. “I hope it is. I don’t wanna see you hurt again.” Violet’s brow furrowed, but figured it had probably something to do with the universe-thing and decided not to ask about it. Instead, she followed Carrie out the door after she had washed and dried her hands.

When the girls returned to the booth, Flynn and Julie were already climbing out of the booth, along with the boys. Ray had probably already arrived at the diner and they were just waiting for them.

“You’re coming home tonight?” Carrie asked her brother as he took her in for a hug.

He hummed. “Yep. For a few weeks, at least.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, breaking away from her. “But I gotta help get the equipment back in the rehearsal studio first. So, I might be late.”

Carrie nodded her head in understanding before saying goodbye to the other boys. The other three girls did the same and as Julie and Flynn followed behind Carrie, Luke held Violet back for a moment.

“Don’t be a stranger, yeah?” he licked his lips and let his eyes fall down to her mouth. “You can take me up on that offer to work on some music together…”

Violet smiled and nodded her head. “Sure,” she said and teasingly let her eyesight fall on Luke’s lips before turning around and running after the other girls. This was going to be a whole new adventure and all Violet wanted to know was how it was going to end. For her. For the boys and her friends. But mostly, with Luke.

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taeyohonic · 4 years

Text

Just a Taste – Chapter One

Summary: Being asked to take a blood test just to work at a merchandise booth should have been the first read flag for you. But you just gave them a sample of your blood in exchange for a very much needed paycheck and a summer job during BTS’ world tour. After the youngest member of the popular kpop band finds himself in a difficult situation, you come to realize that this wasn’t the last time you shed blood for your idols. or: You becomes the new donor for seven bloodthirsty idols, who seem to be way too interested in their new food source.

Pairing: OT7xfem!Reader

Genre: Fantasy, Smut, (Fluff)

Warnings: blood, they aren’t very nice to you...

Words: 2.7k

Chapters: Prologue, Chap. I, Chap. II, Chap. III, Chap. IV, Chap. V, Chap. VI, Chap. VII

“What do you mean ‘all the bags are gone’?”

Your supervisor does not look amused. The girl with an abnormal amount of glitter on her face does not look amused. Hell, even you don’t look amused. The stadium hasn’t even begun to let the fans in and your merch booth ran out of the official “speak yourself”-bag ten minutes ago.

This job is in the top three most gruesome things you had to do for money. But money was tight, and you didn’t want to survive another summer on ramen and cheap wine. The job ad was harmless at first glance. Just another sales job. But they promised good pay and international traveling, which was enough to let your eyes linger. There was no company mentioned, just a post box.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when BigHit responded to your application a week later. With Bangtan’s rising popularity and the massive size of their tour, extra staff had to be hired. Still, the ARMY in you couldn’t contain her excitement. This was a big deal for you. Touring with one of your favorite kpop bands, traveling to Japan and getting first dips on all the merchandise? This was a no brainer. Hell, you would have even paid them to tag along. So you dressed to impress when you attended the interview, keeping your giddiness locked behind a professional smile.

“You want what?”, you ask – disbelieve coloring your voice.

“A blood test”, the interviewer repeats nonchalantly without looking up from her questionnaire.

Was this normal procedure? You had only ever worked in your aunt’s bookstore during senior year of high school and at a fast food place all through undergrad. Neither asked for your freaking bloodline.

“What? Do you discriminate certain blood types?”, you say in mock humor. A laugh disguised as a cough rings through the room, as the cute guy in the back of the room tries to hide his amusement. His eyes are locked on your features.

“We just want to make sure all our employees are healthy. You’ll be travelling to a foreign country, working long hours.”, the woman in front of you replies, ignoring your bad attempt at a joke. She continues: “You don’t have to – of course.”

“But then I won’t be asked back for a second interview, am I right?”

The woman looks you in the eyes for the first time since entering the room. She doesn’t look as evil as she sounds. “No”

So, you guess you’ll leave with a bit less body fluid than you anticipated.

There wasn’t a second interview. The test results came with a pre-signed contract.

***

“What the fuck is up with this boy today?”, Joo-Won swears as his eyes are glued to the screen in front of you. Your shift is officially over. Most of the merchandise is packed up, all the sold-out item IDs are sent to the head quarter and you already got a notification that the next delivery will be arriving first thing tomorrow morning. Now you’re sitting together with some crew members, a half-finished soju bottle in your hand and an empty carton of take-out on your lap. The guy at your job interview turned out to be quite fun.

Joo-Won introduced himself during the briefing on your first day in Japan. He is responsible for the ARMY Bomb stands, which seems to be a very big deal around here. This is his third tour with Bangtan and he seems to know nearly every henchmen in this operation. So it came to no surprise when a stage assistant invited you both to watch the concert from one of the twelve monitors backstage. Of course, you didn’t look too out of place with your name badge and the Love Yourself-hoodie you may or may not have purchased with your employee discount.

The stage assistant, whose name you can’t remember, is fuzzing with screen number five as you take another sip of your afterwork drink. You stare not really focusing on anything. Just blank nothingness.

“You did see this as well, right _______?”, Joo-Won asks breathlessly.

You can only nod. The Fake Love performance just ended. And even though all seven idols were on fire, the youngest was just out of control.

“What did we just see?”, the boy continues.

“Rudeness”, you answer and empty the bottle with a hefty swing. You knew Jungkook would lift his shirt. You were prepared as you had seen their comeback stage more times than you’d be comfortable to admit. This was not news to you. But the aggression in his stare, how dark he growled his verses, the hard edges on his mouth, not even hinting a friendly smile, was making you uncomfortable.

Before your new friend can respond his headset beeped. Joo-Won answer, his eyes still on the screen.

“Yeah?” After a beat his eyes flash to you. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat.

“_________ is with me”, he says and you need a second to register your role in the conversation.

Joo-Won’s stare lingers on your face – a silent question in his eyes.

“Sure, sir. I’ll bring her to you right away.” Then he ends the call sifting, so your knees are brushing against one another.

“Care to explain, why Bangtan’s prime management wants to speak with you, _______?”, your friend asks, no judgement in his voice. What?

***

“So, I have to sign another NDA?”, you ask the manager in front of you, trying to swallow your nervousness. This is the Sejin, Bangtan’s right hand advisor. Every fan knows him from countless Bangtan Bombs and can easily recognize the fathering care in his work.

“This one… is more specific”, he explains and moves the stack of papers to you. You try to calm your excited fingers as you grab at the legal document, flipping through it.

“And it’s time sensitive”, Sejin adds and searches your eyes for attention. You give it to him.

“Time sensitive?” The papers abandoned on the table. “Is something wrong with the boys?”

There will come a time and place when you reflect on the choice of calling these men “the boys” as if they were your closest friends. But it’s not today. Today you just see a glint in his eyes.

“Yes, it’s Jungkookie”, Sejin starts and your memories flash to their concert an hour prior. How Joo-Won and you both discussed how beastly the youngest looked – how aggressive.

“Wh-what?”, you answer in question. The manager’s hands move on top of yours.

“He is ill and … you might be able to help him. We can’t transport him. And we are not sure he’ll survive an ambulance ride.”

Your brain blanks as you stand up in a swift move. This is simple: One of your most cherished idols is ill and his trustworthy manager tells you that you’ll be able to help. This is a no brainer.

“Take me to him”, you order, not even caring that Sejin’s words are not making any sense. How can a twenty-four-year-old college dropout help the golden maknae? What even is his illness?

Sejin’s smile should have been another red flag. “Slow down, _________”, he sooths and moves around the table so he is standing in front of you. “This is important. You have to sign the documents. You’ll have to transfuse blood to him.” He is handling you a pen. “There are health risks. This isn’t … the most optimal environment for a blood donation.”

Jungkook needs your blood – memories of your job interview come back.

You sign the contract, not even reading all the small-printed clauses on the pages. Before the ink is even dry, Sejin is moving you through a long corridor. His hand rests on your neck – squeezing reassuringly. A glimmer travels across your body and you try to ground yourself. Of course you are nervous. This is reasonable. You’ll donate blood to one of your favorite idols. Maybe you’ll see him, when he gets better. Hell, maybe he’ll even thank you in person! Meeting Bangtan is the closest form to aspiration you have at the moment.

“When is the nurse coming?”, you question the logistics as you move towards the farthest door labeled “BTS”.

“Which nurse?” You look at Sejin in surprise – if not a nurse, who’ll take your blood?

“Then a doctor?”, you ask and Sejin shakes his head, a humorless chuckle escaping him while you both come to a halt in front of the door.

“There is… no time I’m afraid”, he answers – with remorse in his voice. There is a sinking feeling in your stomach, some of the fog lifted. How the hell should you give Jungkook your blood if there is not even a transfusion station here?

Sejin knocks at the door, ignoring your thumbing heartbeat and opens the door, softly pushing you into the room. “I’ll explain everything; I promise.”

***

The starving vampire smells your sweet blood as soon as the door opens – Sejin a mere decoration in his vision. Jungkook’s whole body turns towards you while your eyes nervously shift across the room. Time slows down as the maknae swiftly moves straight to you. His muscles ache and he cannot even recognize his swallow breathing. His stare is fixed on the nap of your neck – deliciously soft, milky. Not even the slightest imperfection in this human before him.

You do not even sense Namjoon’s and Seokjin’s presence as your eyes take in the predator advancing towards you. The older ones seem frozen as their youngest stops just a breath away from you. You look mouthwatering – clad in one of their merchandise hoodies, hair pinned in a mess at the top of your head, some bold eye make-up, but otherwise barefaced. You look… just right.

Before Jungkook’s grin spreads across his face, Jin takes action – trying to move between the sarved vampire and this … girl. What the hell was Sejin thinking just throwing her in here? Did he want this human dead so badly?

But the oldest is too late – Jungkook growls aggressively as he snatches you against his firm chest. All the air leaves your lungs – your breasts pressed painfully against solid muscle.

“Ahh”, you groan. As soon as the noise leaves your mouth, his lips descend against the white of your neck. The maknae hisses in pleasure; and then he is biting – hard.

Your scream misses the volume and you feel tears on your cheeks as you gaze into Seokjin’s overwhelmed eyes – hands outstretched.

Blood flows freely into Jungkook’s mouth and you hear a sickening slurping sound. The pain is blazing against your skin, every fiber of your body vehemently trying to get away from the maknae. But your fingers don’t push him away. No, the curl around his biceps – acting against every rational though inside your brain. You cling to the man sucking your blood as if he’s merely leaving a love bite.

The pain in your body slowly ebbs and you feel a bright bliss surrounding you. You’re not even sure if you are still standing at the door. There is no room – just lips against your neck and whimpers in your throat… and Namjoon’s voice far, far away.

“Jungkook stop now.”

“This is an order.”

“Jin, help me.”

“Let’s lay her down.”

“Is there a pulse?”

***

“How do you take your coffee?”, Yoongi asks while starring at you with such indifference in his eyes you’re not sure your answer even matters.

“Uhm- I” His sigh interrupts you as he makes his way from the couch across form you to the kitchenette. The whole room is dimmed in a soft light, the furniture a clean white. You feel your head spin as you try to recall what happened. Weren’t you backstage? Didn’t Jun-

“Jungkook”, your voice more of an accusation than a whisper. Yoongi’s back stiffens, but he continues to brew hot water over a ceramic filter and soon a soothing smell of coffee drifts towards you on the white leather.

“Jungkook sucked m-y – he su”

“-cked your blood. Damn girl, how hard did you hit your head when you fainted?”, your favorite rapper asks – his body finally turned towards you.

Slow, leisure steps are taken and then he sits in front of you, taking you all in. You must look like a mess; grease and sweat from your shift in the booth, plus the incident with the youngest vocalist in the band. All the blood. Your stomach turns around uncomfortably.

Yoongi is looking into your eyes and for a split second you see something other than complete boredom behind his stare, but as soon as you try to pinpoint the emotion, it vanishes.

“That’s what vampire do”, he continues and you heart reacts before the triggering word even registers in your brain. Vampire. No way.

“Go-ood one, Yoongi-ssi. This… this isn’t – some romance novel for teenagers”, you scoff, disbelieve in your voice while your heart beats hard against your chest. Without missing a beat, the idol is in your face – literally just millimeters away. The air is stuck in your lungs as you try to calm yourself.

“You know what I hate, dumb human?”

His fingers draw lines across your face – just a feathering touch, barely more than an illusion. You can only shake your head; afraid your voice will give out if you try to answer verbally.

His face moves down to your neck as his hands frame your face – no longer brushing but locking your head into place. Then his mouth dives into your neck, just resting against your pulse. You can feel the sinister smile against your skin as you shiver.

“Talking to dumb people”, his lips vibrate and you feel goosebumps traveling across your body.

“You have all the proof, but your silly little brain still doesn’t – connect the pieces”, Yoongi trails small kisses across your collarbone; a stark contrast to his insulting words.

“Do you really think our little maknae just has a blood kink?”

He moves to the other side of your neck, while titling your head forcefully to the left. You can’t move your body – muscles frozen into place. You’re just passively… enduring what your favorite idol does to you. Now his teeth are grazing your right earlobe, as his voice drops another octave into a threatening growl.

“That we just hire a college dropout because of her work ethics?”

His words hurt, but you’re more concerned with the information behind them. They know about you, must have read your file. Shame colors your cheeks and Yoongi’s nose inhales deeply against the red of your skin.

“You smell fucking delicious”, he moans and places an open mouth kiss against your rosé cheek. You can feel his saliva on your skin and a whimper of your own escapes your throat.

“You like that, dumb human? Knowing I’d love… nothing more than to bite in your flesh? Drain you dry?”, he slurs. You both know that this is nothing more than a rhetorical question – your heart, your breathing and the wetness between your tights enough evidence.

But before he can act on his words, a searing pain flashes through your brain.

“Argh”, you groan pressing your head against his cold hands with virgo. The dead skin of his fingertips sooths the throbbing in your brain temporarily. But he knows that your time is nearing its end.

“Human, listen to me”, he whispers, his previously threatening tone making place for urgent whisper.

“When you wake up” What? His hands still a vise to keep you grounded, while the pain in your head expands to your whole body. “Damn human, focus!”

He searches your eyes for recognition, but your stare moves around the room – now noticing how alien the light looks, how… clean the colors are. Is this? Are you still sleeping? How?

“When you wake up”, Yoongi’s voice nothing more than a vibrating hum in your ears, “Say no to Namjoon.”

Now he is shaking you. “Say no”

***

“Good morning, sleepyhead”, Namjoon says after you open your eyes – the morning sun blinding you momentarily.

“I made you coffee”, he adds as he pushes a steaming mug in your hands. The familiar smell takes you back to your dream, to Yoongi, his words, his plea – and you gape at the leader in front of you.

“I thought we could talk?”

_______________________

A/N: What do you guys think? I am so thankful for the feedback you guys sent me. It means a lot! I hope you like this chapter as much as i do! I’d love to hear from you again! love, dana

taglist: @m0chilattae @gali-005 @fangirls94 @dinopowa @toddsgirl27 @littlemanismoon @dkck99 @slutkoo @subtlepjiminie @coffeebeanismylife @iloverubberduckiez-blog @geminidrawsstuff @olivialovemason88

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mantisgodsart · 6 months

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We have finally finished this project, and thus, The World's Worst Dating Sim is finally DONE! Just in time for April Fools Day. Now, with our six new contestants, choose, uhh... who's dateable? Or not dateable? This last batch was determined almost entirely by People Telling Us Who To Add, contains multiple AUs, and is... hmm. "Unconventional" may be a good term? Half of these are probably undateable but you can still shoot your shot.

As previously, it can be a platonic date if you want, you just can't be neutral. Deadlander Lambda belongs to @cordycepsbian and has been moved into our studio for duration of this poll. Profiles below the cut.

(we're linking the first poll here)

Deadlander Lambda - Maybe - Deadlander - Good question - At least a little bit

This, uhh...

...is this safe? We don't think this is safe. ..."Already had kids before"? What do you mean it's a parent?

...well, we can't get it out of the studio, so it's an option now? We guess? This... really doesn't seem like a good idea.

Rogu - He/him - Ant drone - Very rude to ask a gentleman that, don't you think? - I wouldn't worry about that.

A charming mystery from somewhere only described as "a faraway land", though he wasn't quite scheduled in this lineup, we think we can make an exception. This silver-tongued bug seems to be able to say just what's needed to get under your skin... and from the look of it, he's angling to take you somewhere private.

...come to think of it, haven't we seen that face before? On a poster, maybe? Well, it's not a surprise he's been modelling for things, he's certainly got a pretty enough face for it, but why do we feel... nervous, all of a sudden?

Carmina - She/(scribbled in)it - (illegible) - (illegible) - (illegible)(scribbled out with "No longer relevant" written in its place)

...where is she? She was meant to show up hours ago. What on earth could have held her up this long?

Pebbles - He/him - Moth ("iterator") - Juvenile (estimated) - Unclear

Right out of surgery, this one. While we're not sure if it's entirely responsible to include this one, and we certainly don't speak whatever language he's speaking... he's cute, isn't he? And looking for a home? Well, maybe if you're the sort of person who might want to rescue a domestic moth in a bad situation...

Wereweevil Vi - It/its (wereweevil form) - Wereweevil - 19 - Aro

Pre-existing hangups mean that you can only date this one in wereweevil form. Good luck.

Kina - She/her - Mantis (big) - Haven't asked - Also haven't asked

Well, we assume that you can do less lethal than the bandit who people mostly know thanks to her former job as a corpse disposal unit, but some people might be into that sort of thing, honestly. Are you, perchance, also a mantis?

#our art #bug fables #finished #watercolor #ocs #other peoples ocs #deadlander lambda #monsieur scarlet #carmina #five pebbles #wereweevil vi #kina #valentines #or we're tagging it as such for organization its actually an april fools poll #we treat the two events with about the same gravity so it fits #for clarification purposes: five pebbles is several centuries old and would be very offended at being called juvenile #however he is less than an inch tall and built like a stick and doesnt speak bugnish at all #so he spends most of his time lurking beneath furniture and trying to bite people with his new mouth. much to the hospitals distaste.#although the wereweevil is vi or at least an aspect of her it is not a terribly sapient one #it is hungry and afraid and desperate and lashing out in search of any pack #in search of ANY connection it can find #and the only way it knows how to do that is by violently mauling everyone and everything in its path so uhh good luck bucko #wereweevil vi in normal form has way too many hangups over intimacy to agree to an outing and must be approached like a feral cat #we know about the normal timeline and we added extra years so that she has the time to acquire more problems #thus ends our FAQ. good luck #EDIT: typo in the tags. ough

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bestworstcase · 4 years

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been thinking about cassandra’s relationship with adira in s2 again and specifically the wobble where cass kinda goes suspicious -> begrudgingly trusting/“she’s growing on me” -> distrustful again and jealous over the course of like, BTCW/FONR/RATGT

and it occurred to me that cassandra’s feelings toward adira are something of a bellweather for her mental health, which perhaps explains the backsliding she does vis a vis adira in RATGT

like… her suspicion toward adira early on is quite reasonable; adira is a highly skilled warrior with uncertain intentions who follows them around and seems to know an uncomfortable amount about them for a complete stranger, and they’re all naturally wary of her. but she doesn’t hurt them, and she proves her trustworthiness by aiding them in the forest of no return, and the general consensus—shared by cassandra—is that she’s kind of a weirdo but definitely their ally. then she pops in again in keeper of the spire to deliver some new information and they all just accept this. cass included: she does not have any questions about adira’s motivations at this point, nor does she appear to harbor any resentment for her.

that’s cass at her most mentally healthy point in the season.

by RATGT however some of the cracks are beginning to show for cass… which has nothing to do with adira since they haven’t seen her in quite some time. but it’s clear before adira even shows up that cass is beginning to feel insecure in the group and doubtful of her importance to rapunzel, exemplified by the “i don’t need anyone to protect me” conversation right before hector’s appearance.

then adira shows up. like cassandra, adira plays a sort of protector/advisor role in the group, but unlike cassandra, everyone including rapunzel still trusts her judgment and relies on her protection. this is what gets the resentment bubbling on cassandra’s end - she is already in a rather fragile mental state and in her mind, i think adira is sort of…proof? that when rapunzel brush cass off with “i don’t need anyone to protect me” what she actually MEANT was “i don’t need YOU to protect me.”

right? that isn’t rational (because the context of cass saying “don’t be reckless” vs adira stepping in to help them fight off a dangerous adversary are different and that’s why rapunzel responds differently to them) but through the lens of cassandra’s insecurity the logic does track: IF rapunzel truly believed she didn’t need anyone to protect her, THEN she would brush adira off too, and she didn’t so THEREFORE the truth is simply that she doesn’t need or value cassandra’s advice or protection, specifically.

cassandra’s (again not terribly rational) response to this is to repeatedly put herself at odds with adira. adira says we have to go through the tree - no that’s too dangerous! adira didn’t mention zhan tiri until we were in the tree - wtf is wrong with adira and why did she hide that?! adira wants to camp [and take a stand against hector] in the tree - absolutely not that’s just asking to get us killed! she is, in her mind, directly competing against adira for the now-exclusive position of being The One Rapunzel Trusts, and every time she loses this game [that nobody else but her is aware she’s playing] it throws more fuel on the fires of her insecurity… until the third time, when it finally explodes into flat out paranoid accusations that adira is trying to get them all killed.

meanwhile the only thing adira has actually done wrong in this situation is make a fairly mild jab at cassandra being just a servant, something she had NO way of knowing was such a huge pain point for cass. and cassandra hasn’t clashed with adira like this before, because this is the first flicker of an emerging mental health crisis rather than, like, an actual problem cass has with adira herself.

but no one in the group (cass included) identifies that as the underlying issue so it just… doesn’t get resolved, cassandra gets injured indirectly because of adira [who proposed the staying in the tree plan in the first place] and while her issues with rapunzel blow up and take center stage in the rest of her downward spiral… the irrational, paranoid resentment of adira lingers throughout the remainder of the journey because the downward spiral is allowed to continue unabated - like, cass lashes out at adira because of underlying emotional problems, not because of a true underlying distrust of adira, and the end of RATGT intensifies those underlying emotional problems, so a healthy/rational resolution with adira isn’t possible bc the root cause—cass’s disintegrating mental health—is not addressed

all of which is a long winded way of saying i don’t think FONR and RATGT contradict each other vis a vis cass’s feelings about adira so much as they, in combination, illustrate the sharp downturn of cassandra’s mental health in the latter half of s2.

#rta #cass please get therapy

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lofitojii · 4 years

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Admiration VI

Summary: He’s the son of Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty. He was everything as described, handsome, cunning, admirable. You, the daughter of Poseidon, god of waters, knows that it’s against the rules to fall for such a man. Demigods aren’t allowed to be romantically involved with one another. But it’s hard to stay away.

Warning: [M] Swearing.

Word Count: 2.5k

Admiration Masterlist

“Utah?” Chanyeol asked, looking over you shoulder from the back seat. You nodded you head, glancing from the map to the open road in front of you. The clouds thundered, the rain hitting the ground ever so gently. “What’s in Utah?”

“Jongdae,” You replied. “He said that we’ll meet him and a friend in the mountains of Salt Lake Valley.” We all knew this was risky, especially when it came to Jongdae. Jongin swears that he is trustworthy but when someone has a bad rap, you can’t help but be on your toes.

“Can we even trust that guy?” Chanyeol asked as if he was reading my mind. He lifted his arms, resting his head back as he leaned into his seat. “I’m almost sure his father has ratted out many and has quite literally thrown people under the bus.”

“He’s a good guy,” Jongin replied. “I’ve known him for a while and he’s helped me with a lot.” Jongin seemed timid, uneasy if you may, as if the questions we were asking were making him nervous.

“Okay, but who’s to say he’s not working with the council? He also could’ve told his father who probably cares more about the bounty on our heads-”

“He owes me one,” Jongin cut Chanyeol off. He let out a deep sigh, rubbing his thighs up and down as he tried to form his thoughts. “A while back, before I was to set off for Olympia,” he started, fidgeting more than before. “We had run into each other at a store. He was being followed by these big men in black suits, US secret force, or something along those lines. I guess Jongdae had stolen something and was being hunted so I helped him escape through a secret portal doors my mother and Poseidon had set up for easy traveling among worlds. He told me that if I kept the item safe, he would help me out whenever I needed it.”

“What was the item?” you asked, curiosity getting the best of you. It must’ve been something belonging to the Gods for it was forbidden for Gods to commit crimes among the humans. He must’ve been hired by Zeus.

“Not sure,” he replied, leaning back in his seat. “Jongdae had it charmed so it can’t be opened by anyone else other than those who were involved in the making of the charm. Either way, if he turns us in, he knows the charm is rooted from a promise he made me and it break whatever the item is.” Jongin wasn’t known for telling little white lies so when he explained the situation, you couldn’t help but believe him. Not to mention a Gods or Goddess’ charm are eternal and pure. Jongdae and Jongin would be risking their godly life if a promise like that was broken. He wasn’t lying.

You were all on edge, the air within the car growing tense as Baekhyun approached the Utah state line. His hands gripped the steering wheel with great force, his knuckles turning white. “When we get there, we have to ditch this car.” He hadn’t said anything all morning.

He looked so frazzled, his hair messier than you had ever seen. He was wearing a gray hoodie, black jeans. It was unlike Baekhyun to be so uncoordinated. You slowly reached out your hand, placing it on his thigh, giving it a small squeeze. He glanced over at you, taking the hand you had placed and bringing it to his lips. You had spent many nights with Baekhyun, from passionate love to calm nights with sweet words. He’s more of a suffer in silence type, which you had caught on many years before. You knew he had a lot to say, but we would never say it. Not in front of your friends, at least.

As Baekhyun began to wind up the scenic route of the mountain, you could tell his heart rate was rising as he leaned forward, his eyes focused on the curve in front of you. Your own heart began to race as Baekhyun frantically started his sentence. “When we hit this turn, we jump out the passenger side. I’ll slow down enough so we don’t get injured.”

“Woah woah! Jump out?” Chanyeol panicked. We didn’t even have enough time to brace ourselves before Baekhyun pulled on the stirring wheel, our bodies thrashing to the side.

“NOW!” Baekhyun yelled, reaching over my body and swinging the door open. He was quick to wrap his arm around my waist, launching both of us out of the car. He was so graceful with every move, every stride. He calmly landed on his knee and left foot, gently placing me down next to him. “See? Not a single scratch.”

“Yeah,” Jongin groaned, pushing Chanyeol off of his body. “For you.” You couldn’t help but let out a laugh as the two boys began to bicker about how it was the other persons fault for not being more coordinated.

“Damn it,” Chanyeol wined. “I didn’t even get to finish my coffee.” You rolled your eyes as he sulked behind you, following up a small trail not far from where Baekhyun had dumped the car. Just as you were about to make a comment, you tensed at the sound of crunching leaves behind you. You stopped dead in your tracks, trying to focus on where the rustling was coming from. “Do you hear tha-”

“Shh,” you were quick to cut him off. You continued to listen, your mind racing with ideas of how to take care of the situation. Your mind raced with images on who it could be.

The council. US Secret Service. A demonic creature.

Your eyes fluttered shut, your mind beginning to clear as you tried to relax and observe your opportunities. Your father had taught you many strategic moves, from stealth to quick attacks from behind. And just like that, you heard the steps grow closer, louder. You didn’t need to turn around to make your move. You grabbed the reached out arm, swinging the body over your shoulder, locking him in an armbar.

“What the hell, Sehun?” You scolded, tightening your grip so he knew you were upset with him.

“I’m.. Sorry.. I heard.. The crash.. I was.. Damnit Y/n let go!” You released your grip, getting back up on your feet. You brushed the loose dirt off your leggings, an arm reached out for Sehun who reluctantly took it. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“Yeah you did,” you responded, glare intense.

“Yeah, I did.” You couldn’t help but let a small smile creep across your face as Sehun smirked at your comment. “And I should’ve known you wouldn’t let me get away with it.”

Sehun joined your group, trecking with you up the small trail. He led the group to a rather large cabin that was actually in the middle of the woods. It was miles, if not hours from nearest convenience store. It was isolated, just as suspected.

“Welcome,” Jongdae greeted the group. He stepped aside, leading you into the grand living room. It was beautiful, to say the least. The decor ranging from old renaissance paintings, vases, emerald green trim around the furniture, brick walls form a fireplace in the center of the home. Jongdae led the way towards the kitchen, a map already laid out on the middle table. “I found this map in the basement of one of my dad’s hideouts. It’s a full map that shows you where you can find other gods, goddesses, sirens, centars, you name it. It’s how he would know whether or not to avoid a certain area or if he was safe to pass through. And check this out. Y/n, hold your necklace orb above the map.”

You took the necklace from your neck, letting it dangle like a pendulum above the paper. Suddenly, the map disappeared with the image of Earth and appeared a map of Olympia. The necklace orb lit up with a blue aura as if it was releasing some sort of steam. You looked down at the map, a small blue dot mirroring the color of your orb. “That’s your father,” Jongdae smirked.

“No way!” Chanyeol exclaimed, taking his own orb from around his neck. He mirrored your movement, focusing on the orb in hand. It lit up with light pink aura, changing the map once more. This time, it took us to the moon. “Of course she would stay out of this.”

“This way, you can tell how close the troupe is. Baekhyun and Jongin will most likely be able to see troupes whereas Y/n and Chanyeol are able to see their parent.” Jongdae wrapped up the map and handed it to Baekhyun.

“Why is that?” Baekhyun asked, confusion visible across his face.

“Your mother, as well as Jongin’s, have created army type troupes with their power. Your orb can trace those powers no matter who it’s passed to. Also, this is the only map of it’s kind. My father became obsessed and had to hide it from himself.” A map that can tell you where gods and goddesses are. Or at least their power. “I have marked your first location on that map. As soon as you leave here, the map becomes yours and I am unable to take it back. You have to keep this promise. Baekhyun,” Jongdae reached his hand out, his necklace dangling from his middle finger. Baekhyun followed his same motion, his orb shining a deep hot pink, Jongdae’s being white. “Promise you won’t give up. Promise your love is real for Y/n and that you will protect your friends. If broken, your rings will dissolve and the map will disappear and return to me. Keep your promise, you will be safe and your journey for Hera will be met with success.”

“I promise,” Baekhyun answered as soon as Jongdae ended his speech. You could see Baekhyun’s eyes glowing the same color as his necklace, mesmerizing, to say the least. Jongdae smirked, putting his necklace in his pocket.

“True honesty,” Jongdae shook his head. “So pure yet so rare.”

They say those with intense power who hold true honesty within their hearts are to unlock their full potential when asked to keep a promise. Their eyes glow the color of their aura, unleashing an inhumane strength. The only descendants you had heard to contain this power was those of Aphrodite and Hera herself. Honesty and loyalty were very big within the community. You had just witnessed true honesty for the first time in the flesh.

And it was Baekhyun promising his love was real for you.

Baekhyun looked over at you, his eyes still burning the bright pink. “Incredible.” You turned to see Sehun shaking his head in disbelief. “They say that those who descend from Aphrodite contain an incredible power that is only shown when they’re honest.” Your heart raced at Sehun’s words. “And when they’re truly in love.”

“I plan on marrying you,” Baekhyun had yet to take his eyes off you. You grew flustered at his words, feeling your whole body shiver as he inched closer to you. “After we find Hera and the ban is lifted, I want to make you my life partner as soon as I can. That is a promise.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, the other pressing your head in his chest. You knew he was being honest based on how brightly his eyes were still glowing. The warm embrace of his hug made you feel incredibly safe, finding so much comfort within him.

You knew the more time you let slip by was more time for the council to catch up to you. You felt the anxiety bubble at the thought, your mind racing.

“Jongdae,” Jongin spoke barley above a whisper. You could see the nerves engulfing his body as he fidgeted to form his sentence. “Can I ask about-”

“Your first stop,” Jongdae winked. “You’ll see her then.” Plum. You remember the conversation you and Jongin had before you had set off on your journey together. Was she going to remember him? Does she look the same as before? You knew the consequences yet you were more scared than Jongin seemed to be. “Alright. This door here will take you to the base of Mount Fugi in Japan and from there it’s about 30 miles into the woods. Use your map if you get lost but I’m sure Kyungsoo or Plum will find you before you make it within a 10 mile radius.”

You all followed Jongdae out the door, being met in a huge basin of a beautiful mountain. It was raining, the clouds cast a dark overcast. It was a breathtaking view. “Oh and before I forget,” Jongdae started. “Kyungsoo and Plum were told to battle anyone who tries to pass, bound by a promise they had made to the Nature Goddess, Gaia who is also their mother. I told them about you guys and your journey but that by no means they will make you an exception. Knock one out or capture them both in order to pass. They will give you what information you need if you succeed in beating them.”

“That doesn’t seem too complicated,” Chanyeol replied. He gripped both mine and Jongin’s shoulder, giving us both a sturdy shake. “We’ve got two badass fighters on our team.” You looked over at Jongin, his face pale.

“Jongin?” You asked, trying to read his expression.

“I wouldn’t be too confident there,” Jongdae laughed. “This is their terrain after all.” And with that, Jongdae retreated back in through the door, leaving the four of you alone in the middle of the grass field.

“What does that even mean?” Chanyeol asked, scratching his head in pure confusion.

“It means you could possibly die if you let your guard down.” You turned around, being met with an unfamiliar face. He was short, shorter than you at least. His black hair falling ever so lightly in front of his eyes. He wore what looked to be a samurai outfit, but only the cloth material. “You must be who Jongdae was talking about. It would be smart to use your orbs against me.”

Jongin and Baekhyun were quick to materialize weapons from their orbs, taking a stance in front of Chanyeol and myself. “He’s being serious,” Jongin pointed out. The look in the unfamiliar mans eyes was soul pericing. You knew his action were based on his eternal promise. He was confident, as he should be. This is what he’s trained his whole life for.

But you had also trained for this.

With this being his own area, you knew his strength could be stronger than if it was on an even battlefield. You had to think quickly and rationally in order to not hurt yourself or your friends. You mirrored the image of Jongin and Baekhyun, materializing the weapon you felt could hold your ground. Your father’s Triton.

“Well,” the man smirked. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #baekhyun fic #baekhyun imagine #byun baekhyun #chanyeol

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a-blue-secret · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER VI

BACK TO MASTERLIST

Chapter V | Chapter VI | Chapter VII

GENRES: royal au; fantasy au; magic au; friends-to-enemies-to-lovers; king!beomgyu, vizier!taehyun

PAIRING: taegyu

WARNINGS: mild swearing

WORD COUNT: 5k+

AN: ahahaha there's so much I want to say about this chapter, but... Taehyun, are you jealous?

SUMMARY: Best friends turned enemies, Kang Taehyun has managed to trick Choi Beomgyu into his service, and to rule for a year and a day, until his youngest brother would be old enough to take the throne. Choi Beomgyu has no intention of being obedient however, and tries to thwart Taehyun’s orders at every turn. With a growing amount of distrust and lies within the court, will Taehyun manage to keep the kingdom of Gojongja from falling apart?

Taehyun strode up to Beomgyu's door. He was lifting his hand to knock when Beomgyu suddenly flung it open, beaming brightly.

"Ah, my dear vizier! What brings you here?"

Taehyun felt that Beomgyu wasn't actually looking for a response to the question. His hand hovered in the air, before he clasped them behind his back and gave Beomgyu a sharp bow. "Your Greatness."

"As a matter of fact, it is wonderful that you happened to drop by. Lord Namjae wanted to hear about this alliance, and I told him that you were the one who memorised the terms, isn't that right?" Beomgyu's eyes clearly screamed 'help me'. Taehyun raised his eyebrows at the strange vulnerability.

"Indeed it is, sire," he replied. "And coincidentally, I happen to have the agreement with me. I was just going to put it into the archive, but I suppose I could bring it out to discuss if our Lord Namjae is so concerned about it."

"In that case, why don't you come in? The Lord is in my tea room right now." Beomgyu closed the door behind Taehyun, and lowered his voice. "I swear to God, Kang Taehyun, this Lord is going to be the end of me. He's so fucking annoying. Please, just get rid of him and stop him from asking questions, he's hurting my head."

Taehyun looked at him, unimpressed. "Dramatic much?"

"Bet you haven't held a three-hour debate with him. Half the time he was just rambling about the same thing over and over again," Beomgyu muttered sourly, following Taehyun as the vizier made his way to the tea room next to Beomgyu's chambers.

"Nothing I can't handle," Taehyun dismissed. "Just don't say a word. I can deal with it."

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Taehyun breathed in, and tried to exhale calmly. “As I just said, it clearly states-”

“Yes, but what does it mean?” Lord Namjae interrupted. “This is all stuff and nonsense if you can’t understand it.”

Taehyun frowned. “This is a completely simple clause, my lord.”

“For you, perhaps,” the lord sniffed. “Not all of us had the same privileged upbringing as you had.”

Beomgyu watched worriedly as a muscle jumped in Taehyun’s jaw. Lord Namjae was treading on very thin ice. Taehyun did not take kindly to people who looked down on his efforts simply because he was born into a rich life.

“Well,” Taehyun began. “If one had common sense and a little comprehension ability, you’d be able to see that the facts are stated extremely clearly. Regardless of upbringing, I am sure anyone would be able to understand.”

The lord peered at the writing again. “This ridiculous phrasing,” he muttered. “Who says things in this fancy way, anyway?”

“It is an official alliance, sir. It has to be written like this.”

Lord Namjae grumbled, holding the agreement at arm’s length, before bringing it close to analyse the writing again. Then he looked up at Beomgyu. “And you agreed to this? Without consulting anyone in your own court?”

“I talked with my vizier, and he and I both agreed that this alliance would do Gojongja no harm,” Beomgyu said smoothly. “And Sir Taehyun’s intellect is above the majority if not all of this court’s, so this decision was made in a very intelligent and sensible mindset.”

“Hm,” the lord said sceptically. “But why did you agree? And why only consult your vizier? What about the rest of your kingdom?”

Behind his back, Beomgyu clenched his hands into fists. He sighed deeply, and turned to Taehyun. “Taehyun, is there any possibility that I may be able to form my own board council?”

Lord Namjae bristled. “Some of the members of our council are from our oldest and most trustworthy families. You cannot simply expel them simply because they annoy you.”

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “What clan are you from, Lord Namjae? And who said they were annoying me? The members were formed by the Jinju Kang clan, after all. Perhaps it is time for a change of face.”

"Well, I say! This is why we do not have such young kings on the throne. They go around and sabotage the kingdom which had been functioning perfectly fine, until young boys come along meddling with things."

That was it. Beomgyu had had enough. "Taehyun, remind me to review the members of the Board Council, and replace members if necessary."

Taehyun's lips twitched. "Of course, sire."

Lord Namjae spluttered. "This is outrageous! Who do you think you are, going round replacing members of the council?"

"I am the King," Beomgyu replied sternly. "And you may address me in the appropriate manner. Besides, what does it matter to you? If you are descended from an ancient clan, and do not annoy me, you have no reason to worry about getting removed, do you?"

The Lord seemed to grow purple with suppressed emotion.

"Well!" Beomgyu said, clasping his hands together. "I hope the terms of the alliance are clearer to you now, my Lord. You may leave now. Have a nice day." Lord Namjae had no choice but to stand up, and was escorted out by Chan. But before he left, he turned round to glare at the young King.

"What you have done is not wise, my king. None of what you have done is wise in the slightest."

Once the door had closed behind him, Beomgyu stuck his tongue out at the door. Taehyun giggled at Beomgyu's childish action. Beomgyu, slightly surprised at Taehyun's response, turned to smile at him in shock.

"Well," Taehyun said, laughing a little. "That Lord was… something."

Beomgyu flopped down into the seat the lord had previously vacated. "You don't say. I had to deal with his annoying ass for three hours prior."

"You didn't need me though, did you?" Taehyun said, grinning slightly. "You managed to get rid of him easily enough."

Beomgyu didn't know what had caused Taehyun to suddenly be so relaxed and friendly around him, but he wasn't going to complain. He missed bantering with the younger. "Yeah well," he shrugged nonchalantly. "Guess I'm just more awesome than I thought."

Taehyun laughed.

"By the way," Beomgyu said, "could you actually remind me to review the members of the council? I'm seriously thinking of changing them." He grinned mischievously. "I might be reviewing it just to kick Lord Namjae off, but anyway."

Suddenly, Taehyun's eyes dimmed, and his face closed off. The smile slipped off his lips, mouth set into a firm line. Beomgyu blinked at his sudden transformation.

"You shouldn't have done that," Taehyun said coldly. "Provoking the Lord like that? That's petty. And he was right. That's not wise. He's a Lord, Beomgyu. He has influence over the citizens and even some other Lords." Taehyun stood up. "I'm going back to my chambers. I have business to deal with."

Beomgyu scowled. "What's wrong with you? Are you content with us staying enemies? One minute you were laughing with me, and the next you're biting my head off. Seriously, what's wrong?"

Taehyun ignored him. "Goodbye, Your Greatness." He sharply closed the door behind him, and Beomgyu glared at the painted white wood. What was up with Taehyun?

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Taehyun sharply strode back to his chambers, hands held tight behind his back. He stood in front of his door, not entering his room, and rested his forehead against the surface. Taehyun took several slow, deep breaths, eyes closed.

"Are you okay, sire?" Heesung asked.

"Yeah," Taehyun replied sarcastically, not opening his eyes. "Just fine." Heesung raised his eyebrows slightly at the stressed undertones to the vizier's voice, but didn't say anything. They were silent, but then Taehyun raised his head, opening his eyes. He waved his hand carelessly. "Seriously. I'm fine. I just don't want to talk about it. Tell anyone who comes that I'm busy, okay?"

Heesung looked like he wanted to say more, but he closed his mouth and bowed. "Of course, sire."

Taehyun nodded, and stepped into his room. Inside, he took a deep breath, and walked to his desk which was still covered by papers. He didn't want to dwell on how normal it had felt to let his guard down and joke with Beomgyu, nor on how it gave him a fluttering sense of familiarity to laugh with the other, and definitely not on how Beomgyu's eyes had lit up with delight when Taehyun smiled at him. He scrunched up his eyes, blinking a few times, before mindlessly picking up a letter. Focus, he told himself. There’s no time to get sidetracked.

He shook his head, and blinked, hard, to try and get his eyes to focus. It was then that he realised he was holding the letter upside down. He sighed, turning it the right way up, as he began to read.

Soon enough, he was immersed into his work, and the rest of the world ceased to exist.

“To Lord Hyunjin,” Taehyun spoke as he wrote. “Hm… what do I want to say? Well firstly,” he mused, getting up to start pacing around the room. “Firstly, I want to say thank you. You know, for the information. But I suppose it would be important to know how he received the info, right? Actually, no,” Taehyun dismissed, waving his hand. “No, I don't need to know. He probably found out through spies, anyway. It’s no big deal how he found out.” Taehyun sat back down at the desk, tapping his fingers against the wood. “Asking what I should do with the information would be good, though. Maybe ask him to be more specific? Yeah. Yeah, I should.”

If you hadn’t noticed, Taehyun talked to himself. A lot. It was a habit he developed, and it actually helped him get his thoughts in order. Life in court meant making important decisions in a short amount of time, and he'd found that discussing his opinions aloud allowed him to think more clearly.

He muttered to himself for a few more minutes, planning out how he was going to write the letter. Then Taehyun straightened, grabbing a blank piece of parchment. He paused, thinking for a moment, before dipping his quill into the ink and began to write.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

“Alright, done,” Taehyun announced to no one in particular. He scanned his letter a few times, before nodding his head. “Okay. Sounds good.” He glanced at the other letters he hadn’t replied to. “Ah. What do I do about those?” He thought for a moment, and then shrugged. “Eh, whatever. I’ll send a verbal message of ‘thank you’. They’re all filled with the same nonsense anyway.” Taehyun stood up, sealing his letter to Lord Hyunjin, before opening his door.

“Hello, Heesung,” Taehyun greeted. His guard bowed in acknowledgement. “Do you know where that Aruyeonan messenger is?”

“Afraid not,” Heesung answered. “One of the other guards took them somewhere, but I’m not sure.”

“Okay. I’ll just wait for someone to pass by and ask them.”

You know how in novels and movies, every time the protagonist is looking for someone to send a message, a person coincidentally walked past at that exact moment? Taehyun expected that to happen, so he leaned against his doorframe, waiting for someone to walk past. As the minutes dragged on, however, it became clear that nobody was going to come into the hallway. Taehyun sighed, pushing himself off the doorframe.

“Guess I’m going to have to go look for someone then,” he said. “Come on. Let’s go find someone.” Heesung wordlessly followed after the vizier as they wandered around the palace, hoping to bump into anyone at all.

Wandering around one of the palace’s many gardens, Taehyun crossed paths with one of the Lords from the council. He bowed in passing, but the Lord gave him a blank, almost icy, stare. Taehyun looked back at Heesung questioningly, but the guard just shrugged. Hm. That was odd. Nevertheless, he pinned it down to the Lord being stressed and worried.

"Wait," Taehyun said, turning around. "Ah, I should have asked him." Taehyun paused, but then shrugged. "Oh well. He probably wouldn't know." They wandered around for a little longer, and found someone unfamiliar walking between two flower bushes. Heesung immediately stepped in front of Taehyun.

"Sir. That man over there is a foreigner."

Taehyun looked over. "Oh, that's the messenger guy. Don't worry. We can trust him."

Heesung frowned slightly, but let Taehyun walk past him, up to the Aruyeonan.

"Excuse me?" Taehyun said. "Would you happen to be a servant of Lord Hwang Hyunjin of the Aruyeo Kingdom?"

The boy startled, but swiftly bowed. "That would be me," he said politely. "Do you have a response?"

Taehyun handed him the letter. "That is my answer to Lord Hyunjin. As for the other Lords… tell them the Grand Vizier sends his thanks, but Gojongja is doing wonderfully without their assistance."

The messenger bowed again, taking the scroll from Taehyun. "Thank you, sir. I will be sure to deliver your response."

Taehyun wanted to say something more to indicate he had received the secret message, but found he couldn't say anything without seeming strange or weird. So instead, he nodded, and tapped the scroll in the messenger's hands. "Give my thanks to Lord Hyunjin," he said. "His letter has helped me greatly."

The messenger bowed again. "I am sure he was glad to be of service," he said. "If you do not mind, I shall be on my way now."

"Of course." Taehyun gestured down the path. "If you go through that door there, you will find yourself in our ballroom. From there, it should be relatively easy to find the palace entrance." He inclined his head. "Have a safe journey."

Taehyun watched as the messenger made his way back into the palace. He sighed. “Maybe Lord Hyunjin is right, though,” he murmured. “Should we have a revel to welcome Aruyeo?” Taehyun quickly shook his head. “No wait- nevermind. That’s not a good idea. The Lord probably didn’t mean it, right? Besides, this is only the start of the alliance. We shouldn’t rush into such things until we are full, trustworthy allies. Ah,” Taehyun remembered, turning around. “Where is that Lord Yeonjun?” He turned to Heesung. “Heesung. Do you know what room the Aruyeonan lord is staying in?”

“I do, sire.”

“Good. Should we pay him a visit?”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

“Hello, would Lord Yeonjun happen to be inside?” Taehyun asked the guard.

“Unfortunately not, sire,” the guard replied. “He and His Greatness have gone horse riding.”

Taehyun raised his eyebrow. “Horse riding? Together?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How long has it been?”

“A few hours, I believe, sire.”

Taehyun nodded slowly. “Okay. Thank you.” He inclined his head, and walked away.

Heesung followed as Taehyun strode down the hallways. “Sire? Are you going to go horse riding too?”

“Obviously,” Taehyun replied. “Who’s outside my door right now?”

Heesung thought for a moment. “I believe it is Yang Jungwon, sire.”

“Okay. That’s cool. Tell Jungwon he is relieved of duty for the next few hours. You take his place. I want to go riding alone.”

“O- of course, sir. Right away.” Heesung abruptly changed direction, heading back into the palace. It was a strange order, sure, but he trusted Taehyun to be able to protect himself. Hell, they’d taken taekwondo and boxing lessons together for eight years- he’d be fine.

Taehyun continued to stride determinedly to the stables. Upon hearing that Beomgyu was out horse riding, he’d suddenly had a strange urge to go out himself. He wasn’t sure why, but he did. Upon reaching the stables, he wandered thoughtfully past the horses, thinking on which one to take. “Hmm… oh? You’re new?” Taehyun stopped in front of a pale red scaled horse. “Where’s the stable boy?” A small head popped out from a horse’s stall.

“Yes? How may I assist you, sir?”

“When did this horse come in?” Taehyun asked, pointing towards the scaled animal.

“Oh, just this morning, sir,” the boy replied. “He was found by the Aruyeonan Lord, sire. The lord was out riding, and brought him back, saying he had been found in the woods. We did a check. He’s completely safe.”

“His name?” Taehyun inquired, stroking the horse’s striped muzzle.

“Still unnamed, sire.”

“Hmm. Well, as much as I would like to get to know the new horse, I think I’ll go with my classic. Where’s Hobak?”

“In his private stall, sir.”

“Good. I’ll go saddle him.” Taehyun paused. “Hang on, I think I’ll go with something more adventurous. You, go fetch my bow and quiver. Tell them to set up my targets in the woods. I’m going to go do archery.”

The stable boy bowed, before hurrying off. Taehyun walked to Hobak, and unlocked the door. “Hello, Hobakie,” Taehyun murmured. “You up for some bareback archery?”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

“It seems the majority of the bonding we’re doing is on horseback,” Beomgyu joked as he and Yeonjun leisurely rode their horses around the fields.

“So it seems,” Yeonjun chuckled. “So. Are we going to a particular destination?”

“You should be the one telling me! You’re the one who asked me to come, after all,” Beomgyu said.

“Right, right,” Yeonjun said, laughing a little. “So, a few hours back, I went riding and found that horse. You know, that red scaly one."

"That was you?" Beomgyu said in surprise. "Wow. I saw that, when I was getting Toto. We haven't had a serpentine horse in ages. That's so cool."

Yeonjun smiled. "Yeah, so, I found him, and also this really cool clearing in the woods. I thought you might want to check it out."

Beomgyu's eyes lit up. "Oh, hell yeah! That's amazing! You remember where it is, right? Then by all means, lead the way! Come on!"

Yeonjun chuckled at Beomgyu's sudden eagerness, and picked up his pace.

"Okay, so from here, it's either left or right," Yeonjun said, slowing down at a fork in the woods. Behind him, Beomgyu chuckled.

"This is such a cliche thing," he said. "If we take the wrong path, are we going to end up in a beast's castle or something?"

"You never know," Yeonjun joked, turning around in his saddle to face Beomgyu. "We might turn into beasts ourselves." He turned back around again so he was looking forward. "But no worries. I know which way it is. Come on." Yeonjun set off down the left path, whistling a tune.

"Ooh, that's a nice song," Beomgyu commented. "What's it called?"

"Oh, I just made it up on the spot," Yeonjun said. He whistled a few more bars, cheerfully. Beomgyu sighed.

"I can't whistle," the young King confessed. "Like, I can't whistle at all. Every time I do, I just seem to be blowing air."

"Aw come on, with a little practice I'm sure you can do it."

"No, seriously, I can't." Beomgyu pursed his lips, and blew. No sound came out. "I can play the lute, I can sing, I can dance, but I can't whistle."

"What, is this like the one drawback in your entire life?" Yeonjun chuckled.

"Yeah! Everyone in court can whistle, but I can't," Beomgyu pouted sadly.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out some day, Your Greatness," Yeonjun reassured him.

Beomgyu grumbled annoyedly. "That's what everyone says. I'm twenty-five, and I've never learnt how to whistle."

"Don't fret, Your Greatness. I only learnt how to play the lute two years ago."

"How old are you?" Beomgyu asked curiously.

"Only a couple of years older than yourself."

"Right. But still, it's not fair! I've tried every whistling tactic there is, and I just can't do it."

"Could it be to do with your ability?"

Beomgyu laughed. "God, no. If anything, my ability should have made it easier." He sighed forlornly. "Perhaps it doesn't do delicateness," he said thoughtfully. Beomgyu turned to Yeonjun. "What's your ability?”

Yeonjun didn't seem to hear him, as he pointed. "Ah, here we are!"

They ducked under a few branches, and were suddenly in a little alcove, cut off from the rest of the world. Even the opening through the trees that they'd come through seemed to have disappeared. The late afternoon sun shone through the leaves, and a lone purple butterfly fluttered about the flowers.

"Wow," Beomgyu said, looking around. "It's… beautiful."

"I know right?" Yeonjun agreed, dismounting. "I found the horse here. Standing right under this birch tree." He walked over to said tree and stood under it. "Right here."

Beomgyu dismounted Toto, and wandered around the clearing, marveling at the quiet beauty of nature. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, revelling in the silence. But then, in the distance, he heard the sound of thundering hooves. His eyes opened, and he turned to Yeonjun.

"Do you hear that?" he said to the Aruyeonan, but Yeonjun was already heading towards the source of the sound.

"Woah… Beomgyu, come look at this."

"What?" Beomgyu walked over to where Yeonjun was staring out between two tree branches. "What is it– oh. It's Kang."

Taehyun was thundering through the forest on Hobak, aiming at the archery targets which had been set up on the trees. His face was determined and focused, and even from where they were Yeonjun and Beomgyu could hear the harsh sounds of the arrows hitting the target. And they could tell it was being hit straight in the bullseye.

"He's riding bareback as well," Yeonjun said in awe. His eyes followed Taehyun as he galloped past. Beomgyu rolled his eyes.

"Don't stare at him like that. It's creepy."

Yeonjun turned around to Beomgyu, smirking. "What, are you jealous?"

Beomgyu scoffed. "Of who? Kang? Why would I? I don't want you to look at me like that."

"No," Yeonjun laughed. "Are you jealous that someone else is paying attention to Taehyun?"

Beomgyu, who was walking back to Toto, tripped over a tree root. He glared back at Yeonjun. "What the fuck? Why would I be jealous of that? I'm not in love with him."

"Sure." Yeonjun walked over to Starburst.

"Seriously, I'm not," Beomgyu insisted. "We were friends, and that's it. Now we're just colleagues. I don't have romantic feelings for him."

"Of course you don't." Yeonjun checked Starburst's reins, adjusting their length.

"That's right. I don't." Beomgyu crossed his arms. "I'm not in love with Kang. Bleh."

Yeonjun looked up at Beomgyu, grinning. "I already agreed with you," he said. "Why are you still going on like that?"

"Just to drive my point home," Beomgyu replied. "Now come on. Can we go? I wanna have at least one race before dinner."

"Alright, alright," Yeonjun grinned, mounting Starbust. "I'll lead the way."

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

After riding through the woods, Taehyun felt significantly better. His steps felt lighter, and he felt the calmest he'd felt in ages. The stable boy came to take Hobak, and Taehyun bowed.

"Thank you for setting up the targets on such short notice," he said. The boy bowed.

"Anything for the King's Grand Vizier," he replied. "Would you like me to take your bow and quiver away too?"

"Yes," Taehyun said. "Oh, and you may need to have someone go take the arrows out of the targets. I don't want a bird to accidentally fly into it."

"Of course, sire."

Taehyun walked back to the palace, breathing in contentedly. He hasn't rode a horse for pleasure in ages, nor had he done archery for fun in quite a few months either. It was like a huge mound of stress had been lifted from his shoulders. At that moment, a voice called out his name, and the said huge mound of stress suddenly settled itself on Taehyun's frame again.

"Hey! Kang Taehyun!"

Taehyun closed his eyes, and turned around on his heel to smile pleasantly at Beomgyu. "Yes, Your Greatness?"

"You were riding in the woods?" Beomgyu demanded, striding up to him. Taehyun inclined his head.

"Indeed I was," he replied. He tilted his head innocently. "Why? Is there a problem with that?" He spotted Yeonjun some ways behind Beomgyu, and took note of their mud-splattered riding boots. "Oh! Did I interrupt your date?"

Beomgyu spluttered. "What? Date?? I'm not dating anyone!"

"Oh, my apologies, Your Greatness. I just assumed, since you have gone out with Lord Yeonjun an awful lot."

Beomgyu narrowed his eyes, detecting the sarcasm in Taehyun's voice. "What's wrong with you?"

Taehyun widened his already-wide eyes. "What's wrong with me? Nothing's wrong, sire!" he chirped. "Ah, Lord Yeonjun! Are you to dine with us today as well?"

"If it's not too much trouble," Yeonjun said, smiling.

"Of course not!" Taehyun beamed.

"Ah, thank you, sir," Yeonjun said, bowing. He began to take off his riding gloves. "I'll get undressed and then redressed for dinner, then. Will it be normal time?"

"Yes," Taehyun inclined his head as Yeonjun walked past him up to the palace. "You know where to find the dining room!"

Once Yeonjun was out of earshot, Taehyun's exaggerated smile dropped. He turned to Beomgyu, and inclined his head. “Well, I’ll see you at dinner. Please don’t be late.”

Beomgyu watched as Taehyun walked in back to the palace. He tilted his head, confused. “Why’s he taking the back door?” he wondered. “Ah, whatever.” He jogged ahead to catch up with Yeonjun.

“Your Greatness,” Yeonjun greeted. “Your vizier is very nice. I like him.” He frowned. “Though, he doesn’t seem to like me.”

“Kang doesn’t like anyone,” Beomgyu dismissed. “That’s just how he is.”

Yeonjun hummed. “That’s fine. I’ll win him over in no time, though.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes playfully. “Yes, with your wonderful charm and breathtaking looks,” he said.

“I’m glad you agree that they’re breathtaking,” Yeonjun joked.

“Dream on,” Beomgyu laughed. They stopped in front of Yeonjun’s door.

“Well, see you at dinner, sire.” Yeonjun bowed, and stepped inside.

As soon as the door closed, the smile on Beomgyu’s face dropped and his shoulders slumped. He really didn’t feel like dinner with Taehyun, that day. He hadn’t felt like looking at Taehyun all day, ever since the incident that followed what had happened with Lord Namjae. Beomgyu didn’t know why it bothered him so much, that Taehyun had suddenly changed how he acted. He scrunched his eyebrows and sighed. Kang wouldn’t get mad if he forfeited dinner, would he? Heck, he didn't want to eat at all. Well, he was the king. Taehyun couldn’t force him into having dinner. He nodded. Right, he was the king! He could do that. With his mind made up, he went to his chambers, determined to get an early night’s rest.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　

Taehyun tapped his fingers on the table. These days, it seemed he was waiting for people a lot. At that moment, Lord Yeonjun stepped into the room.

“Sir Taehyun,” he said, bowing. “His Greatness won’t be joining us today. He said he feels unwell, so he’s going to forgo eating dinner.”

Taehyun sighed, nodding. “Very well. It’ll be just you and me then.”

Yeonjun sat down in the seat, rather awkwardly. Taehyun paid him no attention and just began to eat. Yeonjun hesitantly picked up his cutlery too.

“Sir?”

Taehyun looked up, still chewing.

“Forgive me for seeming rude, but… why is it that you don’t seem to like anyone at all?”

Taehyun chewed slowly, before swallowing. “Well,” he began slowly. “You never know who you can trust.” He looked at Yeonjun. “Some people just aren’t… trustworthy.”

Yeonjun smiled blandly. “I understand that. But with people that you know, why is it that you still don’t like them?”

“You’re talking about Beomgyu, aren’t you?” Taehyun set down his cutlery. “In his case, I suppose…. Just because you know someone well doesn’t mean you like them.”

“But judging by how Beomgyu talked, you did like him for a time?”

Taehyun’s cutlery, which he’d just picked up, clattered onto his plate again. “Don’t speak of such things like that,” he said lowly. “And just because we used to be friends doesn’t mean we’re friends now. Things change.” Yeonjun nodded thoughtfully.

“That is true. What changed between the two of you?”

Taehyun dragged his finger over the rim of his glass. He contemplated throwing the crystalline object at the Aruyeonan, fingers sliding down to grip its glass stem tight. Eventually, he loosened his grip, still staring into the silver wine inside the glass. “What happened between Beomgyu and I in the past is none of your concern,” he said finally. “We were friends, but then we weren’t. And now, he is King and I his advisor.”

“You do know that the whole business of Beomgyu being King is odd, don’t you? Especially since I can gather that you two are enemies. Additionally, on the day of the Crown Handing it almost looked like you had planned to make Beomgyu king.”

Taehyun looked up sharply, but Yeonjun was just casually taking another bite out of his food. “I’m just saying that’s what it looked like,” Yeonjun said, once he noticed Taehyun’s gaze. Taehyun didn’t say anything, and continued to watch Yeonjun. His expression didn’t change, but if one looked closely they’d be able to see Taehyun clench his jaw just a little tighter, and his eyes flicker just a little.

“If you say so,” Taehyun said finally. He continued to eat, thinking. He hadn’t thought about how obvious it may have been that he was planning to make Beomgyu the king. Now he thought back, it probably did look very careful and calculated. But, no one was objecting to Beomgyu’s rule, Taehyun countered himself fiercely. Everything was fine. People didn’t care, as long as they had a king. It would be fine. He looked up at Yeonjun again, who was still shovelling in food, oblivious to how Taehyun looked like he was going through a midlife crisis. How had Yeonjun picked up on that? Why had Taehyun not thought about that, while he’d been planning? Taehyun brought his glass to his lips, face set in a troubled expression. Yeonjun’s observation had thrown him off in a way that he hadn’t thought was possible. He was the calm and collected Kang Taehyun, who didn’t blink an eye at unusual turns of events. He was prepared for everything. Taehyun took another sip, gazing at the wall worriedly. He’d been thrown off quite a lot today. First with Beomgyu, and now with Yeonjun. What was wrong with him?

#court of lies #txt fanfic #txt #taehyun #txt fluff #beomgyu #txt beomgyu #txt taehyun #taegyu #txt taegyu #txt angst #tomorrow by together #tomorrow x together

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pandawritesmanythings · 4 years

Text

(A Medieval!AU Loki x Stark!Reader Story)

Chapter Summary: Asgard is truly a beautiful kingdom, you only wish your thoughts and feelings would let you enjoy it.

Word Count: 1836

Warnings: None, I think!

Masterlist

A/N: Your support and kind comments in the last part has left me- I just 😭💕 Thank you so much for the support you guys!

It was nearly midnight when the salty air filled your senses and you woke up to look out the window to see a full bright moon and the sea not too far from the road. The castle was up ahead, but it was still at about an hour's distance.

"Vis!" You called your driver. "Stop the carriage!"

He did so almost immediately and he and Steve Rogers, the captain in charge of your security came to check up on you.

"Is everything alright your highness?" Steve asked as you got off the carriage.

"It is, captain. I just wish to see the sea. It's all."

You began to cross the road to follow a trail into the beach but Steve caught up you. You did not stop for him though.

"Please, don't do this. I'll get in trouble." He pleaded, your name pouring from his lips.

You stopped to look at him.

You had seen this good man take down the fiercest of men. He had the most special place in your heart, but you never were to tell him. Even if you'd ever planned to do that, confessing that was not something you could afford to do any longer.

"In trouble with who?" You smirked and continued walking towards the shore.

"At least let me escort you!" He called after you.

"You may!" You answered back, still not stopping.

The night was peaceful and quiet. There was no-one here for miles, and the sand felt fresh under your feet, once you took your shoes off. You approached the waves that licked at the sand and lifting your dress so it wouldn't get ruined, you allowed the water to gnaw at your feet.

You felt as the wave retreated, how it slightly sucked you into the sand. Each lick sinking you a little deeper until you were up to your ankles with sand.

You giggled at the small gig of nature but blushed as you felt someone bunch up your skirts behind you.

"Princess, your dress is going to get ruined." Steve admonished holding the back of your dress far from the sand and water as you held the front.

"I have a thousand more. You don't have to accommodate me, captain."

You knew he meant no ill intent by his actions, but it still made you blush when he got so close to you. You blessed the cover of the night which allowed you to get away with your embarrassment.

"May I ask, why? Your highness?" He asked as you stared into the horizon.

You took a moment to think about why you just had the urge to stop for a moment and enjoy this wonder of nature.

The answer wasn't a difficult one, it was just a painful one, and to share it with Steve of all people wasn't something you were exactly ready to do.

"I just... Needed a last moment."

"If I may be so bold... "A last moment" to do what?"

He was honest to god worried about you. You looked at him, seeing the young boy you had grown with. A twink of a guy turned into one of the kingdom's most trustworthy and capable soldiers. His kindness had captured your heart when you were young, and his bravery had only fed your endearment for him as time went on.

You knew you could trust him.

"A last moment to enjoy my freedom, Steve."

He whispered your name, and suddenly you noticed how close the two on you had become. You were sure at this point he saw your blush, but you didn't care. He was so near you, you could feel him holding the fabric of your dress to avoid it getting wet. His firm chest almost pressed against yours. His lips just inches away.

But just as you thought anything could happen, the voice of his right-hand man was heard from afar, calling that soldiers of Asgard were approaching.

He offered you his arm and you wiggled your buried feet out of the sand. You both rushed towards the carriage where Bucky and Wanda were waiting.

"It must be at least 15 men." He informed Steve as Wanda poured water at your feet to help you clean them.

"Are you sure they are soldiers?"

"Vis sighted the royal crest, but they might as well be bandits posing as soldiers," Bucky warned.

"Captain. No violent action towards the men, ask for their business, and then proceed accordingly." You instructed him as you stepped into the carriage, Wanda in tow.

"As you say, your highness."

Both soldiers walked ahead of the carriage, and they signaled Vis to go at a slow pace.

"So they are soldiers?"

"Not sure about that," Bucky answered.

"Better be on our guards then."

"You were on your guard with the princess back there weren't you," Bucky smirked.

That sent Steve into a sputtering panic. "What are you talking about!?"

"Come on pal. You've been in love with the princess since before any of us joined the military!"

"We were children together. I am in charge of her security I care about her! But not like that!" Steve tried to excuse himself.

"If I hadn't called you, would you have kissed her?" Bucky questioned, he knew that you had chosen only people who you truly trusted to accompany you in this trip, which meant no-one was gonna tattletale on you. But he still wondered.

"No." Steve spat. "And even if I did, she has her duty and I have mine. That won't allow us to ever be anything. You know that, right?"

Bucky hummed in reluctant understanding. The men in horseback where closer now, this chat would have to be postponed, but he wanted to support his friend.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I think she feels the same way."

Steve was going to continue, but the horsemen approached their caravan.

"Who comes!?" The man leading the horsemen shouted at the two men.

"Travelers my good men. We've come looking for an audience with the king." Steve responded, the answer vague enough so if they were robbers, they had better chances of being ignored or stall them.

"Is the eagle faring well?" The leading man asked Steve.

"Only if the wolf remains their friend." Your voice came from the open door of the carriage.

Steve just wanted to tackle your stupid self back into security but after you gave him a sign, he stepped aside and allowed you to approach the horseman who led the troop.

"Prince Thor, it is my pleasure to be in your land." You bowed before the man.

He took the hood off his head, and in fact, it was the blonde prince who had come to greet you and escort your caravan into the palace. He got off his horse and with a hand to your shoulder kindly ushered you to stand up.

"Princess. It is good to see you!" His smile was bright and his eyes were kind. "Welcome to Asgard! Please, come! We are to securely take you back to the palace!"

He led you back into your carriage and you finally arrived at the palace, way past the witching hour.

The streets were mostly empty, but you could still hear the music coming from some open bars.

Thor was riding next to your window and chatting with you.

"So I take that your people like their drinks?"

He chuckled. "It would be strange to see Asgard completely silent at any given time!"

"Well, it must be a relief for you that you don't ever have to worry about a place to enjoy yourself."

"Oh, I assure you m'lady. We have plenty of places to entertain ourselves. You must see them sometime during your visit!"

"It would be my honor." You politely answered.

To be completely honest, it was different from your home. Besides the salty air, it seemed that the town was alive. While back on Midgard, the curfew didn't allow anyone to be on the streets past midnight.

It was a necessary measure that you understood and supported, but you wished that your people could be as carefree as the Asgardians that you saw dancing and drinking.

You hoped that this alliance took you a step closer in that direction.

The palace doors opened for you without hesitation. And Thor offered his arm to lead you inside the castle. Politely, you accepted and allowed him to lead you inside, Steve and Bucky hot on your trail and Wanda right behind them.

"We have prepared everything for your arrival! Tomorrow, Asgard will celebrate you and your people. There will be a feast in your honor just for you!"

You smiled at him. "My, you Asgardians know how to flatter your guests..."

"It would be a dishonor if we didn't do as much as we possibly can to make this visit a happy one!"

At the top of the stairs, you saw a very refined lady, who you presumed was Frigga, the queen, and a couple of maids.

"My child. Welcome to Asgard." The queen greeted you and you bowed to her.

"Your majesty, thank you for giving me and my people your hospitality."

"Nonsense my dear, your father was a delight when we met him. It was only natural that we opened our arms to such a charming and capable man and his children."

"But please do not let my father hear you, majesty. It will go straight to his head." You chuckled.

The queen smiled at you, which you interpreted that she, at least, tolerated you. Which fair, you would take what you could.

"We will proportion you maids to take you to your quarters." The queen signaled to the girls standing behind her.

"Oh, that won't be necessary, my queen. Wanda is my assistant, I won't be needing a maid." Wanda stood behind you and curtsied the queen.

"Oh, my dear please allow us. It would be a big dishonor for us if you wouldn't let us accommodate you in every way we can!" She insisted.

Oh, how you wanted to say no. But feuds have started for way less between the tribes of Vanaheim.

"Alright, if it will make you happy, I'll accept." You nodded and the queen seemed satisfied.

"This is Sigyn. She'll take care of you and help your assistant in anything she needs." The young woman was your age if not a year or two off. She wore her blonde hair on a braid and she had a far off look on her face. "Sigyn, please lead the ladies to their quarters."

"Yes, your majesty." She bowed and then signaled you to follow her.

But before you left you offered your thanks once more to the queen.

"Do not thank us, dear. It will be a true pleasure for all of us to host you here."

You followed Sigyn through the many halls and corridors, shooting one last look at Steve before he was completely out of sight for you.

TAG LIST (OPEN)

#loki odinson #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki of asgard #loki #medieval!AU #loki x sigyn #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #arranged marriage au

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