#i thought it was just a situation where only lady servants ~conveniently~ end up on the island but nope theres guys

[roznnreads]

Chosen not Fated Chapter 3

Eris x Fem!Reader

Tags: marriage of convenience, rhysand slander, depression, suicidal ideation, slow burn

Summary: Tired of a life in the shadow among the inner circle, Rhysand’s younger sister decides to take her life into her own hands and makes a desperate grab for power.

Chapter Summary: A Ball for Feyre's birthday, where the two leads dance around what they want

a/n: This was the chapter I thought up first and built the story around it

last part, next part

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When I entered the room I knew that my apprehension towards tonight was wrong. Not that I was looking forward to the pleasantries given to other gentry of the court, But Eris Vanserra was in attendance. 

The Hall falls silent as the High Lord and High Lady rise from their thrones. All eyes were on the dias, on the Lord and Lady of the Court, no one was looking at Nesta, Elain, Cassian or Me, despite standing next to them. Well further behind them, the thrones were situated near the front of the dias, and we were standing near the back, Me and Elain on one side and Nesta and Cassian on the other. 

“Thank you all for coming, the efforts put into tonight have not been for nothing, drink, dance, celebrate, all in honor of my darling wife Feyre” Rhys spoke to the room, his power radiating from his voice, and with a nod to the musicians the music began, couple pairing off to begin the first dance of a long evening, The High Lord and Lady walk of the dias to the middle of the dance floor along with Nesta and Cassian, Elain heads to the banquet table to grab a glass of wine and wait for a partner to whisk her away to the dance floor, Azriel never made an official appearance but instead was slinking around the room searching for anything of note to the High Lord. 

I remain at the dias surveying the room, making sure everything is going well. Although it is Feyre’s party, I feel like it is also mine, not in my honor, but I’ve put hours into this and I need it to go well. A flash of auburn hair catches my eye, no, it is too early to meet him tonight. I need him to want, to need, to need to take me away. I can only hope that tonight will end well for me. 

The Ball passes by quickly, fast dances warp to slow dances and back again. Once I was sure that the ball wasn’t going to fall into a tragedy, I move from the dias, nodding to the Feyre who had made her way to sit on her throne. I lean against a wall, on the edge of the dance floor, grabbing a glass of wine from a servant’s tray. I search the crowd for Eris, he is still in attendance, good, I look at the side of his face, his jawline is as sharp as his smile. He’s laughing with someone, I wonder what his laugh sounds like. It is curt and short, loud and hearty, polite and reserved. I long to know what it sounds like.

“May I do you the honor of this dance my lady” said Eris startling me, his hand open in suggestion. I was lost in thought, the words catching me off guard, I hadn't even noticed Eris walk toward me, I’m losing my touch. Plastering a smile on my face. 

“Why, of course”, I take his outstretched hand, letting him lead me into the middle of the dance floor, We take our places, 3 paces away from each other, Eris bows and I curtsy, the music begins, it is a slow romantic melody,

“Eris, did you pick the dance on purpose?”, I say, leaning into him as I am held in his arms,

“Now how would I have control over the music, didn’t you plan this whole night. You did splendidly my dear” he says, I blush at his compliment, Cauldron this is embarrassing, one compliment and I am blushing like a teenager again. It has been a while since someone has complimented my efforts, it's probably just that, I refuse to think too deeply into this. 

I am spun out then back into his chest, my back to his front, now that I am not looking at Eris I can see Azriel, he is standing arms crossed and glaring at us. I am spun, my hand held in the air by Eris, until I am standing across from him again. His eyes look at me filled with lust. His hands are warm, even in the Night Court at true night, his body is radiating warmth, I feel the need to lean into him, to chase the warmth, to catch it and never let it go. 

I am forced to pull away from him as the song dictates, dancing in a circle with another partner, I don’t know who I am now dancing with, they don’t matter. The few seconds seem like an hour until I am back in his arms

“Have I told you how hideous you look in black” said Eris

“I’ve worn black for the past few centuries, why comment now, is my dress that reprehensible” I say

“Oh, no, I oft think you would suit the colors of Autumn” pondered Eris

“How bold lordling, is that a proposition?” I say glancing at his lips not trying to hide it.

Eris’s face moves towards me, for a moment I think he is going to kiss me, but he moves to my ear

“Follow me, my lady” said Eris, his words low in such a tone where I knew I could never say no. 

He leads me off the dance floor, moving us onto an adjacent balcony, the cool breeze hits me playing with the bottom dress. Eris pushes me against the wall we are out of sight of the party but all seduction leaves his eyes as he says

“You can drop the act, your making a fool of yourself”

[kurozu501]

finally got my phones issue sorted and was able to start the summer event! only to instantly be greeted by shitty perv humor and blackbeard screentime! die!!

[bxllafanficc]

Lady of mischief- Part four

Pairing: Loki x Greek!goddess f!reader

Summary: Asgard is having a change of power so there are several events Loki has to get right before he can announce victory against his brother as the next king. But one lady’s approval will change the whole outcome if the stakes are right. That lady is you, intended heir to the throne of Olympus but tied down to a marriage of convenience with one of the princes of Asgard. The prince you choose to marry will be the next king but you refuse to let yourself be a pawn in this game for power. Loki, with his intentions to take you as his queen has far greater reason to marry you than just for the reason of being king. You however, would rather cut off your left arm than exposing yourself for the fact that there’s another purpose besides Loki getting a throne to sit on.

The palace halls were crowded with workers and even aristocrats from far away staying in the palace’s guest areas. People from high ranking families and servants alike came our from their rooms. The chatting wasn’t quiet enough for you not to hear but the context was obvious. Everyone wondered why Asgard was suddenly shaking, why the ground beneath their feat suddenly became an object of death instead of the concrete safety it’s always been. The poor Asgardians had probably never experienced an earthquake before. Or a god loosing their cool and taking it out on the nature either.

Despite people making the halls hard to get past, everyone stepped aside for the prowling embodiment of fury: you, on your way to confront the man who started the nightmare.

You truly tried to make the waking earthquake to stop. It wasn’t at full force yet since you were still somewhat grounded. But every time you would try to strap the source of its boiling anger, a maid you walked past would mention prince Loki’s wellbeing and the emotions would burst off the lid again.

And you knew that you’d never make this decision in a calm collected state. After all, this was what he wanted. You’d play into his hands if you didn’t act careful.

You pounded on the wooden door and secretly hoped it would break a hole from the impact. The door stood unaffected.

“What’s the matter?” The mumble was faint and came after a brief paus.

You gave the door one last punch and regretted it immediately. How would confronting him affect the earthquake? We’re you being selfish for potentially putting the Asgardians in danger?

You were just about to turn around and leave but the door swung open with a stale-eyed Loki at the other end.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing to my poor door?”

Couldn’t he at least act like he was surprised to see you? At least give you that much satisfaction?

You crossed your arms tightly above your chest and forced yourself to stare him right in the eyes. The thought of making him stand accountable for his actions was the only thing not making the shaking worse.

“Are you the reason behind me falling every 3 seconds? The waves are especially strong here, did you know that?” You actually didn’t know about that, which only showed just how little control you had over yourself.

“Would you care to elaborate exactly what was your plan tonight? Making me look like your pretty little pawn all dolled up in that dress or locking me up here, tied to your leash for all eternity?” You tried your best to hide the emotion in your words but ended up just spitting them through your teeth instead.

He looked genuinely clueless with his furrowed eyebrows. At least he gave you that. Wrong timing though. His hand traveled up the frame of the door as a way of stealing himself for the shaking. If you lost just a little more control, he’d either fall on his rear or right over you, taking you down with him.

You stood unaffected by the shaking, however.

“What are you talking about? Why would I want to lock you up?” He raised a pointed finger at you.

You had to scoff. How could he pretend not to know when it was so obvious?

“You going off earlier to whine to my uncle wasn’t you manipulating him into getting what you wanted?”

The finger fell slightly and he formed a faint ‘oh’ with his lips. But his expression was still curious. Was he offended?

“Yes but, what does that have to do with you being ‘locked up’?”

“You don’t know?” The shaking seemed to intensify and it caught you off guard.

“If you’ll enlighten me, I’ll answer that for you when I know what we are talking about”, he said as he almost fell forwards with a soft yelp. Your noses touched just as he got a hold of the doorframe, your cheeks brushing against each other as he slumped forwards in relief. It was only a second of him being so close but you felt frozen in the moment.

“And would you stop doing that?!” He motion at the ground and the shaking actually faltered. Not because he told you to stop, but because you weren’t furious anymore. The anger seemed to have vanquished and you were too caught up in his closeness to ask yourself why.

Finally Loki seemed to realize how close you actually were and pulled away. His hair tickled your neck just like they’d done earlier.

“I’m sorry for…” He tapped his nose and cheek with a soft hand. “I know you… that you, yeah.”

Find it disgusting? ‘Despise’ his touch? But you never really meant it, though. Back then he laughed it off but now it seemed like he took your words with him ever since. It kind of made your stomach twist in guilt. Or hunger. You couldn’t tell. When was the last time you’d eaten? Wine didn’t count, that much you knew.

“(Y/n)?”

Why were you here, again? Right.

“Right… Zeus banished me from entering Olympus.” You just said it bluntly because there was actually something else you’d rather said. You lacked the guts though.

“What? Why? Does my father know about this?” His eyes turned round as if it was really bad news for him. The reaction you’d expected was nothing like what you actually got.

“I don’t know about that. But I’m forced to stay with you and Thor until… Until I’ve made up my mind.” Your arms fell flat to your sides since you were no longer angry. Back was the collected you. But you couldn’t quite remember the events leading up to you calming down.

“Haven’t you made up your mind since long ago though? And that’s not for all eternity- wait nevermind, I get it.” His expression faltered to match yours and you started looking around. At the furniture, at the walls… Without the anger giving you strength, you could no longer look him in the eyes for too long.

Lastly you peeked beside his broad frame and into his room only to find it absolutely destroyed. Chairs and what you assumed must’ve been his working desk were broken into tiny pieces across the floor along with shattered porcelain figures of different sorts. The drapes were halfway ripped off the window and stuffing from the bedsheets were still visibly dusting the air.

Loki must have seen you noticing the mess because he let out a muffled sound and moved in front of your vision.

Now forced to look at him, you saw that his hair was tangled, clothes messily arranged and his chest rising and falling rather quickly. Was that redness in his eyes as well?

“Loki, are you okay? Have you been cr-“ He immediately cut you off with a dismissive arm and avoided looking at you. The tables had turned so quickly you still had trouble figuring out how to handle the situation.

“Of course not! Now it’s time for you to go. It’s bad for your highness’ skin to be awake for this long.”

‘Your highness’?

He was already midway at closing the door when your hand snaked between and caught it. You could see him getting ready to put distance between himself and the door through the small gap you had left.

“Is there something that- is everything alright?” You didn’t really know why you were now chasing his attention like that. Didn’t you want him to stay away from you? To avoid and feel nothing but hostility from you?

Loki only wasted one second to look at you before he sighed and untangled your fingers from his door. The skin-to-skin contact was warm. Not at all despicable as you’d told him. Damn your mouth sometimes.

“Yes. Everything’s just fine. Good night, my lady.” And so you were facing a closed door. You were thinking about knocking again but somehow knew that door wouldn’t open anytime soon. You’d heard of past experiences where the prince would lock himself up in his room for days just so nobody would see just a tad of vulnerability from him.

Had you just made the maid’s work harder? You thought about how you would have to apologize later if that was the case. Maybe apologize to the entire population of Asgard for causing the ground to shake while you were at it. If you were to stay here for all eternity, you might as well make some friends. Because it would most likely be forever. Either you were trapped refusing to marry one or the brothers or trapped by the crown that would be on your head if you did end up choosing one.

The walk back to your room was quick since it wasn’t too far from the prince’s. Henna greeted you at the door and brought you inside to discuss the matter that caused your outbreak.

“So prince Loki’s room was like a scene out of a war? I heard from the maids here that outbursts like that has only occurred a few times before but the prince would always cover it up with illusion magic immediately. He’d ignore it for as long as he could until sooner or later when the servants tripped over the mess and couldn’t see the reason for them bruising an arm or knee.”

He’d cover up the destruction? Why hadn’t he done it earlier? Maybe you caught him off guard mid-rampage. And so he was to distracted to conjure the spell.

Henna had been talking nonstop ever since you came back. She insisted on babying you tonight and currently brushing your hair before bed, she had all the time in the world to talk.

“Henna?” You stared into your own reflection in the mirror and found only tired eyes met you at the other end.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Do you know if it’s usual for the prince to cry?” Henna put down the brush and went to grab your nightgown with an almost skipping walk. Why were she in such a light mood tonight? Right. Everyone had a great time at the banquet, except for you and, you assumed, Loki as well. You should be asking Henna if she danced with some handsome youngster tonight instead of hearing about gossip about the second born prince. You should mind your business. Loki was fine, as he said.

But Loki is a known liar.

“No, I don’t think so? There would definitely have been servants talking about that if it ever happened since prince Loki isn’t very popular with the maids. Why do you ask?”

If that was the case, then you were probably just imagining it. His eyes could be red out of straining the veins in his face from destroying all that furniture too. And after all, prince Loki’s wellbeing wasn’t your concern.

But you couldn’t help but wonder why he suddenly started addressing you so formally just as he wanted to get away from you, since he never usually kept up the formalities in private.

(A/N: Hi! Don’t hesitate to comment on each chapter what you thought about it/if you liked it since that keeps me motivated to keep writing. Also reblog so my story reaches a wider audience, if you really liked it! Your support is much appreciated. Also let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this series. Have a good day, lovelies!)

Find the other parts in my MASTERLIST

Tag list: @liffydaze @queen-of-mischief @sidepartskinnyjeans @girl-obsessed-with-things @obsessivelysearching @reverse-iak

[hela-avenger]

poison & wine- part 32

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1482

Summary: Prince Loki of Asgard is in need of a date to take back home. That’s where you come in with a task of your own to make the whole trip with an insufferable prince worth it. Too bad that things don’t always go as planned and you end up giving more than you can take. Fake-Dating AU.

A/N: Thanks for your comments, everyone! The last update certainly brought the drama and I know I broke some hearts but it will be resolved! I promise! Only three parts left! With some bonus scenes too! 

poison & wine masterlist

Loki had told you to leave. In fact, he yelled at you to leave. As if you had been a hindrance to him and perhaps you are for having convinced him to continue with the lie to this exact point. 

You’re stupid. 

Incredibly stupid to have thought that this could ever work. 

Loki did not love you. Maybe he cared, but he did not love you. You mistook his friendliness for love and now you were suffering the consequences.

You’re humiliated and worst of all you’re alone in a random hallway of the palace far away from the home that you know and love. A home that hadn’t made you suffer like your time spent in Asgard. 

Yes, you’re a half-breed, a demi-god, a girl split between two realms.

You’re also an orphan. A traveler with no sense of direction. A flower with no roots. 

Most importantly, you’re a heartbroken fool who thought that a royal prince could ever find you worthy of his love. 

You didn’t know where to go. You don’t know where you were meant to go. You were too focused on trying to keep the tears at bay to formulate a plan at the moment. All you desired at the moment was to leave this realm once and for all and forget everything that’s happened here.  

So why not? Why not leave the realm once and for all? It was what Loki desired just a day ago and for good reason. He had tried to spare you the heartbreak and you had still asked for it. 

You pick up your silk skirt once again and start to run. 

You somehow manage to find yourself back at the royal stables but any luck you had, which was not much to begin with in the first place, is all gone as the Lady Sif looks up at you in clear surprise.

“What are you doing here?” you ask. “Shouldn’t you be at the celebration like everyone else?”  

“Someone has to keep guard,” she answers before glancing at your gown. “What’s your excuse? Isn’t it for your honor?”

You don’t know how to respond. You may be upset but you weren’t ready to let all your feelings out to the first person you found. Especially to someone who showed her clear distaste to the man you loved. 

“I had to get out of there,” you answer. “I just… It’s not what it turned out to be.” 

“So you came to the stables?” she asks, confused. 

Your impromptu plan was falling apart all because of a nosy knight. 

“Look, I just came for a ride so if you don’t mind…” 

You try to move past her but she’s quick to catch your arm. 

“You’re very upset,” she notes. “What did Loki do?” 

“Why do you think he had something to do with this?” 

“Because I know him.” 

“Well, it’s clear that you don’t,” you argue. “He… He did nothing. This was all me.” 

You let out a sigh knowing you wouldn’t get anywhere without revealing the truth. 

“I fell in love with him, and he didn’t,” you confess. “My heartbreak is my own to blame.” 

Surprisingly, Sif relents and lets you go. 

“I understand,” she whispers. “The princes have a certain allure, don’t they?” 

It takes you a second to realize who she’s referring to.

“Oh,” you answer. “You and…” 

“Yes, and we don’t have to speak about it,” Sif remarks sharply before softening. “I’m sure you don’t.” 

“I don’t,” you agree. “But I love him and he doesn’t which is why I can’t be here anymore. I have to get out of here.” 

“So where do you wish to go?” Sif asks as she pulls her horse out of the stable. “I’ll take you.” 

“The Bifrost,” you state ignoring her obvious surprise. “I wish to go home.” 

The moment you left the royal hall, Loki turned to his enraged father. He did not dare to offer an explanation until you were far enough away from the scene. Loki hated himself for having to raise his voice at you but it was better than the alternative. You didn’t deserve to be caught in the aftermath of his lie. You didn’t deserve to be hated by Asgard and incur Odin’s wrath because of him. 

“Tell the musicians to start,” Loki orders the nearby servant as he hands the case holding the apple for him to take. “And keep the guests away from the throne room.” 

With that order done, Loki turns to his silent and angry Odin. 

“My father and I wish to discuss in private.” 

Odin refrains from snapping at him as Frigga comes into his vision. Just a gentle touch from his wife seems to bring him back from the brink of disaster and allows for Odin to be led into the nearby throne room without uttering a word.

“Now, son,” Frigga begins calmly. “Please explain to us why you’ve caused such disruption on a day like this?”

Loki looked between his mother and Odin unsure of how to speak the truth he had evaded and ignored for so long. 

“I lied,” Loki states simply. “I’ve been lying to you this whole time. The courtship and now this engagement…” 

Loki pauses and looks at Odin with a sigh. 

“You were right,” he whispers. “I made a deal with her to fake a courtship with me and she accepted.”

He can’t help but laugh now, bitterly. It drove him mad trying to figure out when things had suddenly gone wrong. At what moment were fake emotions became real and true. 

“And now… Now, things have become such a mess,” Loki exhales as his dark humor fades away. “Such a mess and I have no idea how to fix it because I love her. I love her with my entire being and she doesn’t even know. She doesn’t know that I would follow her till the end of the universe if it meant I could be by her side always.” 

Loki turns away from them, his hands shaking, and he doesn’t know why he's confessed more than he had to. 

“I love her,” Loki whispers. “And because I love her, I couldn’t force her to take a bite from the Apple of Idunn. She already detests time for having taken her away from her family, a home, and… love. How could I let her take a bite of that apple when it is the last thing she wishes for herself?”

“It was not your decision to make…” 

Loki is surprised by this calm response from Odin prompting him to turn around to finally face him. His father’s wrath was gone, replaced by gentle understanding. As if the patient wisdom that Odin’s always described with finally made itself known in Loki’s presence. 

“The gift I offered was for the Lady Y/N,” Odin continues. “She should have been the one to accept or reject it, not you.” 

Loki opens his mouth to argue but Odin raises his hand to stop him before he could even utter a word. 

“No, no, it’s time for you to listen to me now,” Odin interrupts him. “I’ve known all along the game you were playing, Loki. The timing of it all was too convenient to be true, but the lies and stories you wove to explain it all were convincing. They were convincing because in brief moments of clarity you two were speaking the utmost truth about the way you perceived and felt for each other.” 

Odin glances over to Frigga who offers him a small smile. 

“When I spoke to Lady Y/N after the incident of your tournament match, a tactic I hoped to unveil the trickery you were pulling, she met me strong and unafraid. She further revealed the loyalty and trust she held for you as she defended you quite strongly.” 

“I already know this,” Loki tells him. 

“I know you do, but what you don’t know is what she told me afterward.” 

Loki waits for Odin to tell him but the Allfather remains silent. 

“What? What did she tell you?” 

“That, my son, is something you will have to hear from her,” Odin answers with a hidden smile. “I have spoken more than enough on her behalf. I believe it is time you have an audience with her. Tell her how you feel and allow her to do the same.” 

Loki doesn’t trust Odin’s genuineness in the situation but a glance to his mother reveals that he should as Frigga nods for him to go. 

“We will make excuses for you and Y/N’s absence in the hall,” Frigga tells him. “Go after her!” 

Loki doesn’t need to be told twice as he quickly runs out of the throne room in search of you. There were many places you could be hiding in, but Loki doesn’t get the chance to look at any of them as a flashing of lights on the horizon catches his attention. 

The Bifrost. 

You were already gone.

poison & wine tag: @damalseer @just-the-hiddles @jessiejunebug @nonsensicalobsessions @smollest-soybean @assassinoftheworld @readerbandit @doyoufeelikeayounggod @strangemcuvlogs @ha-tep @i-dont-know-eiither @gene-king @day-dreaming-fox @bn-studies @is-it-madness @devilbat @victor-criss-bish @skinny-macncheese @musicconversedance @baby-bunnyxn @fandoms-allovertheplace @marvelloonie @jinxjinxednova @queenmuahaha @accio-boys @eternalqueensworld @umlvk @roger-the-reindeer @punkrockhufflefluff @your-local-abyss @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals​ @rogerrhqpsody @imsad420 @pandacookieowo @justnerdystuffs @hanoi15​ @oneprolificqueen​ @nikki-who-likes-coffee​ @fandomrelative​ @nikki419ninja​ @onedollarduck​ @help-i-need-a-social-life​​ @ephemeraljade​ @catsladen @amwolowicz​ @captainmarvelnerd​ @thegirlbeyondtheuniverse​

Loki Tag: @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @thesilentbluesparrow @oddly-drawn-muse @josiehosiedaninja @hp-hogwartsexpress @sadwaywardkid @wolf-lover74 @sizzlingbarbarianglitter @sigyn-njorddottir @aoirohi​ @defunctcherrybomb​

All Works Tag: @jmb959 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @hellocookiecutter @steve-rogers-personal-hell @buckybarnesyard @not-zari-tak @strangersstranger @thefridgeismybestie​ @moonlightprime

[ourworldofwonders]

Medieval!Villanelle ~ Killing Eve AU : The Duchess of Murder

Warnings: Murder, possessive behaviour, drugging, time-appropriate sexism. 

The Duchess of Rothesay was the gracious host as she welcomed the guests into her home. The late Victorian night was the perfect backdrop for the supposedly important meeting her husband was giving; not that he was here to greet the people arriving. Not that she minded; the more they were apart the better it was for her. It hadn’t started like that, Cassandra remembered. It had been a marriage of convenience but there had been love there; or at least on her side anyway. The many mistresses leaving and returning to his room drained her of the last emotions she felt for him. 

However, her smile still widened as she followed the last of the guests into the large parlour of the grand mansion belonging to her. Cassandra’s long blonde locks were intricately braided down her back with soft pearls dotted into them. Her station was high, which was obvious to the rubies adoring her neck, ears and wrists. The blood red stones matched her long gown perfectly. “Welcome. Hello, nice to see you.” Cass nodded and spoke as she walked past the guests. Her life only ever consisted of social events and smiling perfectly so nobody would suspect her unhappiness. 

Her servants that were more like family smiled as she passed by on her way around the room. Cassandra played with one of her many ruby rings as she subtly looked around for her husband. It didn’t take her long to know why he was so late as his most famous of mistresses walked in and a moment later, so did her husband. The audience around them were none the wiser , which Cassandra was extremely thankful for as she leaned away from his kiss that was now planted on her cheek. The overly placed, fake perfume of the whore in the corner had her nearly sneezing but she was a lady; a Duchess and she had pride. She politely greeted her husband before stepping to the side and happily allowing his attention to be taken from her again. Her interest peaked at the sight of a new woman in the corner of her room; her first thought was that the woman was another one of her husband’s mistresses. 

“Hello, I don’t think we’ve met.” Cassandra gently introduced herself as her eyes could never stray from this woman. The woman’s cat-like eyes moved towards her and Cassandra couldn’t hold back the shiver moving through her. “I’ve only just arrived in town.” The unknown woman spoke softly and with an accent that Cassandra only wanted to hear more of. The curiosity was getting the better of her and it had Cass gracefully placing herself next to the still unnamed woman. “I’m Cassandra,” The Duchess introduced herself with a soft smile. “Villanelle,” She moved herself to be angled more to Cassandra; her black dress clinging to her curves. It was a very simple design but Cassandra thought she looked like a Goddess. “I love that name.” Cass complimented and the woman could only blush and duck her head. 

The young assassin had never felt this way before; usually her emotions were so much more guarded but the woman in front of her seemed to pull at her interest like no other. Villanelle noticed everything as her eyes had wandered the room whilst she had placed herself in the corner. The husband was easily found and Villanelle had already noticed the women hanging off him as well as the moans she’d heard coming from rooms when she had scouted out the building. It was always the prettiest of birds that had the most awful of husbands, she thought to herself whilst watching Cassandra take two glasses from a passing servant. “What brings you here?” Cassandra couldn’t stop herself from learning more about the mysterious woman as she sipped her champagne and passed the glass into Villanelle’s hand. “Unfortunately my father couldn’t attend so i’m here instead.” She lied perfectly. Her father had been dead for many years now and by her own hand. “Well, I’m glad you are here.” Cass hummed around her glass. She wasn’t too sure where those words came from and now it was her turn to blush. Maybe it was the loneliness that had made itself at home inside her that was talking now. Her eyes sleepily fluttered after the exhaustion of the day was creeping through her. “Are you sure I’m not boring you?” Villanelle couldn’t help but tease as her eyes wandered the Duchess’s form. “Oh, no, of course not.” Cassandra was quick to argue as she turned back towards the mysterious woman.  “It’s more tiring organising events than people think.” Cass finished off her glass and placed it next to her. Villanelle followed her line of sight and had to fight against rolling her eyes at such a disgusting man. It seemed the sleeping sedation potion she’d placed in the Duchess’s drink was taking effect just as she wanted. The soon to be widows of her targets were never harmed and she tucked them into bed but this was the first time that she disliked the time between them coming to an end.

“I think I had too much to drink,” Cass spoke mostly to herself as she moved to stand; her mind already trying to count the glasses of the night but she knew her emotions sometimes got the better of her. Villanelle moved with her and reached to gently steady the Duchess for a moment and enjoyed the closeness a little too much. “Want me to escort you up?” Villanelle asked with her words dripping with innocence. If Cassandra was in her right state of mind she would have declined, but her loneliness had gripped her harder than she ever thought. “If you wouldn’t mind.” The sight of two women walking up the grand staircase made no eyebrows move if it had been a man and a woman; something Villanelle always used to her advantage as she watched the husband whisper in his mistresses ear. For some reason, the assassin wanted to place the blame on her as if she was protecting the honour of the Duchess beside her. 

“I’m glad to be leaving that party.” Cassandra babbled whilst her head gently leaned onto Villanelle’s shoulder who in turn subtly took in her mouth watering scent. Villanelle had a greedy nature and she enjoyed such pretty things. “You didn’t enjoy yourself?” She asked gently and played with a lock of those blood red curls. “Unfortunately not,” She sadly whispered as the Duchess moved down the long halls before turning the handle for her bedroom door to open.

Villanelle followed silently behind Cassandra as she looked around the room and enjoyed the luxurious decor and jewels dotted around the place. A soft hum escaped her as the scent of the room washed over her as she watched Cass move towards the bed to gracefully sit down. “You should rest.” Villanelle came to kneel in front of her and looked up with those eyes of hers that seemed to stare into the Duchess’s soul. “Hmmm..” It was all she could say as the softest of sheets underneath her were seducing Cass into her bed. “Maybe,” She carried on quite sleepily and if she was more of a sound mind, Cassandra would have begun to question why she was so tired. The watchful eyes of Villanelle followed her whilst helping Cass from those shoes; her fingers tracing her smooth skin for a second longer than needed. 

It didn’t take long for the drug to take it’s full effect as she watched the sleeping Duchess for a few moments. Villanelle placed the most luxurious of sheets around her for warmth before stepping away; too much time had already passed. The assassin silently moved around the room before reaching for a nearly empty bottle of perfume; the very same on the sleeping woman’s body. A last look was all Villanelle gave as she skilfully pocketed the bottle and left the room as silently as she’d entered. 

The soft music and chatter from the party could still be heard as the assassin moved easily through the home. Villanelle hardly felt nervous anymore; she was far too prideful in her own abilities. It was far too easy to follow the moans that disgusted her more than anything. Villanelle rolled her eyes as she slid into the room to see the traitorous husband of the Duchess tangled in bed with another. The two were far too involved with each other to see the silent assassin. Usually the women in her target’s bed were left unharmed but Villanelle was feeling vengeful. She wondered why the husband would leave the stunning wife he had for this whore. It was these thoughts that confused her and Villanelle wondered why she was taking this affair so personally.

Villanelle finally brought herself under control as she stepped from the shadows of the dimly lit room. It was easy for her to gain control of the situation as she slowly without sound brought her favourite dagger from her thigh. The rubies shone in the candle lit chandelier above her as a smirk of dark promises came across her face. The silence spread across the room as she watched the woman nearly pass out next to the Duke. It seemed their activities had exhausted them, which worked perfectly to Villanelle’s advantage. The slash of her dagger was quick and far too quick of a kill for her liking but she didn’t have time. Neither did the Duke as he grasped at his bleeding neck but his vocal cords were damaged and his mistress slept perfectly beside him. It was the perfect set up, Villanelle thought to herself. 

The open window in the room gave her the perfect escape but she knew she would be back; the Duchess was far too interesting for her to leave now. It wasn’t too long before the screams brought the attention to the murder.

[jimlingss]

A Fair(y) Crime

➜ Words: 22k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 45% Crack, 5% Angst

➜ Summary: While you might hate fairytales, it doesn’t change the fact that you are the descendent of the fairy godmother. With a wand in your hand and magic running through your veins, you have to search for your Cinderella and grant them their happily ever after....but things might be a bit more complicated than that when you find out your little Cinderella comes in the form of troublemaker Kim Taehyung.

You hate Cinderella.    Actually, you hate all fairy tales. The storylines are terribly vapid, love made to seem one dimensional, characters awfully helpless that it makes you frustrated. But at the young age of six, none of these thoughts came across your mind nor did you care much for good storytelling. Rather, you didn’t like these stories so much anymore simply for the fact that…   You are the fairy godmother’s descendant.   “What?” You blink in confusion, head lolling to your side. “What’s that mean?”   “It means you have to find your Cinderella and grant them their happily ever after,” your father explains with a bright smile, his cheeks puffing out, eyes crinkled as if he’s trying to convince you to eat broccoli. You are unimpressed, leaning on the table and looking over.   “You know Aunt Yeri?” your mother pipes up.   “Yeah!” You nod enthusiastically, recalling the pretty lady that gave you lots of toys. She visits sometimes with her doggy and you went to her wedding a long time ago. It was at a garden and very pretty.   “Well, she isn’t just my best friend. She was my Cinderella and I helped her to her happy ending.”   You’re silent for a moment, letting it sink in. Your parents wait patiently and you quirk your head to one side. “When will I find my Cinderella?”   “...later.” There’s uncertainty in her voice, unsure. She has the same tone as when she debates if she should give you a snack before dinner. “Maybe in a few years, honey.”   “Will they be my best friend too?”   “That’s entirely up to you.”   “How will I know it’s them?” you ask, firing question after question.   “You’ll just know.” It sounds weird like she doesn’t know herself, and she must read your expression because then she says— “Didn’t you always want to be a fairy godmother?”   “No!” You stand straight on the chair, nearly climbing onto the table even though you’re not supposed to. But no one scolds you, too concerned as you shriek, “I wanna be a princess! Not a fairy!”   “Well….” Your father is at a loss and he smacks his lips together, looking for the right words. “You can still be a princess, sweetheart.”   You pout, suddenly feeling very sad. “I don’t wanna be a fairy godmother…”   “Take a look at this, Y/N.” Your mother draws your attention away before you can burst into a tantrum and immediately, you stop sniffling. You lean fully over, sprawled over the table and the tips of your toes on the chair cushion.   There’s a narrow golden box that she brings up. You’ve seen something before — Valentine’s Day when your father brought you to the store and you helped pick out a gift for your mom.   The necklace you chose ended up in a similar box.   “What is it?” But you’re unsure of what the contents are and you peer over, as close as you can get with your short height.   Exactly as your suspicions, it isn’t gold jewelry. It’s a silver stick. It’s thicker on one end and narrower on the other, coming to a point. The stick seems to shimmer and shine against the fluorescent ceiling light above the table, glimmering as if there are sparkles embedded into the surface.   “It’s a wand.”   “It’s magic?!” Your eyes glimmer, grown wide and your jaw drops.   Both your parents laugh, exchanging relieved expressions. “Kind of.”   “Can I grant wishes then?”   “Only the wishes of your Cinderella. You can’t use it on yourself,” she tells you but you’re too excited to fully understand and be disappointed. “You like it?”   “Yeah! It’s cool!” You take it, waving it straight up in the air like you’re a magician about to conjure a dragon up. It’s heavy, but sits perfectly in your hand.   You were an idiot.   You didn’t know then. At first, it was fun to know you were some sort of secret fairy. That your great-great-great-great-great grandmother’s grandmother was actually the fairy godmother of the fairytale you had read so frequently. You had magic. You had superpowers.   But as you got older, the true gravity of your situation crumbled down onto your shoulders. You were someone’s fairy godmother, forced to serve a random stranger out there. You can’t even grant your own wishes, bring away the suffering that you faced, or fulfill your deepest desires.   You’re someone’s servant.   And with the anger that came with puberty and your teenage years, you threw away that wand. You abandoned it, left it in places, tried donating, throwing it in the dumpster or even a bonfire one summer at camp. But no matter what happened, it always appeared in your surroundings again.   You wish this was an awful prank your parents had set up and continued over the years. But it’s not. And you know that fact deep down — this is very, fucking real. This nightmare is your life.   “Goddammit!”   You’re on the floor of your college dormitory, roommate thankfully out lest she sees the way you’re sobbing and concludes you’re psychotic. The boxes around you circle you, towering like buildings in the city. Yet, on top of all of it, the stupid stick you left back home has somehow appeared in your belongings once more. And you’re aware neither your mom nor dad had anything to do with it.   So here you are, on the ground, gripping it with both hands and trying your best to snap it.   “Break already!”   You’re screaming, teeth gritting down, jaw clenched, face growing red as your muscles strain.    But it won’t. It’s like concrete or made of the strongest material despite being so thin. It’s unyielding, fighting for its survival, not budging or even bending the slightest bit. It mocks you.   You end up flinging the wand to the wall and it makes a dent in the paint. “Who the fucking hell is my Cinderella?!”   The question asked for decades on end isn’t answered and that special someone doesn’t appear until you’re at your absolute lowest.

You needed this.   A vacation, that is.   The stresses of your life were about to eat you alive. It started a little more than half a decade ago — years of breaking your back to get good grades and obtain your degree. Then it was months of unemployment and crippling debt that forced you to trash your beloved History master’s for a job in the candle industry.   It was temporary, you said. But the bills and debt payments weren’t temporary.   So here you were, dealing with a psychotic boss, doing a job that felt like you were selling your soul to the devil.   Needless to say, you needed a vacation desperately.   So this was perfect. Sort of.   “Is there a purpose for this trip?” the reception of the dingy hotel asks with a bright smile that almost cracks her face. “If it’s for pleasure, there are a lot of fun and adventure packages I can offer you. Macau has plenty to do during your stay here!”   “No, it’s okay.” You hold back a sigh. “It’s for business.”   This place was essentially the Vegas of Asia, but for you, it wasn’t so much of a vacation as it was more a business trip. A trip where you had a budget of less than a hundred dollars for — meant for you to solely buy convenience store food and maybe a tacky shirt as a souvenir. A trip that required you meeting some investor and convincing him to invest in thousands of candles.   “I see.” She nods her head in sympathy, reading your exhausted expression and dead eyes. “I hope you enjoy yourself nonetheless. Here’s your key-card for room two-hundred nine.”   “Thank you.” You take the card off the counter, not sparing another glance. Pulling your baggage behind you and letting the wheels roll, you walk towards the elevator. But something stops you, making your feet halt.   Or rather, a feeling.   It’s intense, pulsating through your veins. It’s as if you’ve been shot or had an orgasm, or both things occurred at once. The tips of your fingers tingle, your muscles tense, core clenching and head aching. The overwhelming emotion ricochets through you, giving you whiplash and it rips the air out of your heaving lungs. Euphoria fills every crevice of your body, intuition screaming out, and it’s like you’ve scratched an inch you didn’t know was there.   Your neck cranes over.   There’s a young girl half across the lobby. She’s in a straw hat decorated with a pink bow, wearing a soft sundress that hugs her curves and cools her skin from the heat of summer. The female is tapping on her phone, looking out the window like she’s waiting for a taxi and immediately, you beeline towards her. She’s the person you’re supposed to meet. She’s your Cinderell—   But she walks away.   The girl walks out the glass doors before you can get to her and you halt again, watching her get in the taxi and how the vehicle pulls away from the curb, taking off. And as you stand there, jaw slack, dazed….the feeling you have still lingers, not fading away. The person you’re really here for cuts through the lobby and exits the same doors you’re staring at.   He’s homeless. Or at least, he looks like it. The man is in rags, wearing oversized bohemian clothing with loose bags slung over his body. A five o’clock shadow is plastered around his mouth and it matches his blonde bed hair that’s in a disarray.   The deadbeat dude is your Cinderella.   And he’s leaving.   “Wait!” you scream across the lobby to no avail. Several tourists and workers turn to stare, but you pay no mind, moving based on animalistic instinct, frightened as the feeling begins to fade the farther he gets. Your luggage is pulled until you get to the bellboy and you pass it towards him. “Can you please bring this up to my room? I’m in four-hundred eight— no, I mean, four-hundred nine!”   “O...o-kay…” He’s bewildered, but before anymore can be said, you’re already out the door.   “Wait! Wait!” You’re screaming at the top of your lungs above the roar of traffic and the engines of motorcycles. The sun beats down on you, causing you to break into a sweat. Your shoes are flimsy and your clothes are wrinkled, the same ones you wore on the entire plane ride.    Still, none of this particularly deters you as you run against the grain of people.   He keeps getting farther and farther away despite your shouting. He doesn’t hear you, or at least he doesn’t know you’re the one calling out to him. Frustration eats at you alive and you stop in your spot, inhaling a large breath to scream—   “Taehyung!”   Miraculous, he hears you calling his name. He halts in his sandals and turns around. In the midst of the people, his brown irises lock right onto yours. You stare at him, lashes fluttering before you run again. By the time you get to him, you’re panting and hyperventilating heavily, crouching over as you feel your lower gut ache from the unprompted exercise.   “Do I know you?” His voice is deeper than expected, taller too, and he’s surprised, wondering how you know his name.   “No.” You shake your head. “No, you don’t know me. I don’t know you. But...I’m about to.”   “Alright…?”   “I know this is going to sound completely insane and crazy and you’re not going to believe it, but I’m your fairy godmother.”   “.....” There’s a long silence. It is awkward. In the middle of the bustling morning, there’s quietness between you and him until he says, “Pardon?”   “I...am a descendant of the fairy godmother.” You cringe but without knowing any other way to say it. And with his expression, you know Taehyung doesn’t believe you. If anything, he thinks you’re legitimately crazy, that you escaped out of the mental ward at the hospital. “And I’m here to grant your wishes.”   “I’m sorry.” He backs away. “I’m not interested.”   “I’m not trying to sell you anything!” you yell in exasperation, knowing you sound less like a saleswoman depending on her commission to make a living and more like a scam. You don’t blame him. You even sound insane to your own ears.   “I-I’m fine. I don’t need any wishes granted. Sorry.”   “No. Wait!” You grab onto his arm before he can run off. “You don’t understand. My entire family are descendants of the fairy godmother. You know Cinderella, right? It’s like that. Everyone in my family has their own Cinderella and it’s one of our life missions to grant their wishes and give them a happy ending. You’re mine.”   “....Umm...are you staying at a hospital right now?” His thick brow quirks. “Need me to call someone for you?”   “No! God!” You give up, arms dropping to your side, at a loss for words. But then there’s a last thought that strikes you, a last hope. “Let me show you. Let me grant a wish of yours.”   Taehyung looks at you, staring directly into your eyes. He’s obviously weirded out, skeptical of the nonsense you’re sprouting. And you’re even more embarrassed and horrified. You were here for a business trip, goddammit. Not to run into your Cinderella. But now that’s here in front of you, you’re not letting go.   You’ve been waiting for him for years now.   He is your obligation. As bullshit as this is, you must honour your family and respect what they’ve given to you.   So, you beg him to trust you one time, “Please. Give me a chance.”   //   As you enter the lobby, the receptionist and bellboy eye you warily, especially considering a young man is trailing after you. It looks like you’ve picked him off the street which is technically true. But unlike their suspicions, you are most definitely not inviting him back to your room and paying him for a night of pleasure.    You give him your name, mumbling a bit about your background to relax him and he says nothing as you take the elevator up to your tiny room. The queen sized bed is clean with sheets tucked in, not as sketchy as that time you went to Iceland. It’s fairly nice for it being such a small space, but the bed takes up most of the area, forcing the single-stalled bathroom in the corner and there’s only a tiny window in the other corner.   There isn’t a chair or desk in sight or even a television like usual rooms.   “Sorry, I’m just here on a business trip. Meeting an investor.”   “Uh-huh.”   Quickly, you drop down to your suitcase, tugging the zipper to dig into your belongings. You’re like a wild animal scavenging for food. “W-what are you looking for?” he asks and you know this doesn’t look good. It’s like you’re about to drug him and someone else will enter the room, help drag his body and the pair of you will harvest his organs.   But you would never resort to such a method to make money….no matter how desperate you are.   “My wand.”   “Wand?”   “There it is!” The silver stick is found in your underwear pocket of your luggage and you pull it out. Taehyung’s brows raise once more and you admit to him, “I..I’ve never used this before. It only works if you’re the one who wishes for something.”   “So...I just make a wish?”   You nod. “You should start off with something small.”   “Then…” He steps back, still on alert. “I wish for a flower.”   The blonde male expects nothing while you’re waiting patiently. It takes a jerk of your hand that the wand begins to quiver in your grasps. Dust and sparkles come from the tip like it’s a bubble gun and you both watch in amazement, breaths hitched. The fairy dust falls on the ground and begins to stick together. It glows white, too bright that you’re forced to look away.    It morphs into a perfect red rose, three leaves on the thornless stem. The hue is strong, reminding you of blood and the petals are abundant, flourishing in front of your very eyes.   “Oh my god!” You fling the wand across the room, hands grabbing fistfuls of your hair. You can’t believe it — some part of your brain always had doubts, but they weren’t lying after all. “It fucking worked!”   “Holy shit!” Taehyung’s jaw is dropped, eyes doubled. “What the fu—! You’re my fairy godmother!”   “I’m your fairy godmother…” you repeat him and allow it to sink in, speaking with bitter acceptance. You’ll get this done and over with. The faster you can give him his happy ending the faster you’ll be free from this obligation.   The two of you try again, making sure this isn’t just an illusion or a one time occurrence. “I wish for a hundred dollars.” And just like that, the crisp bill is conjured up. “Oh my god….oh my god...this is real...this is real, isn’t it? It’s not a dream?”   “It’s not a dream.” The ability for you to grant his wishes is both terribly tragic and ironic. Here he is with a hundred dollar bill that you haven’t been able to see in ages. But you shake off your self-pity, something you’ll reserve for later. “I’m here to give you your happy ending.”   “My happy ending….” The realization hits him and a rectangular grin spreads across his face.   “Yeah.” You shift from sitting on your knees to the floor, seated across from him. “So...you have any ideas what is it you want?”   He hums and shrugs. “Can you make me handsomer?”   The question is odd. As...dirty and disoriented as Taehyung appears, somehow up close he doesn’t appear that bad. But you shrug and try nonetheless….though nothing happens.   You try again, flicking the wand as Taehyung wishes for it aloud. Nothing.   “I think….I can only conjure up physical things….so I can’t alter you or your personality…”   “Or give world peace?” He pouts and sighs. “Oh well, guess we’ll have to make do.”   “Uh-huh.” You wear a blank expression, though internally you glare. Make do? God, he doesn’t know how fortunate he is and how envious you are. “Is there a dream or aspiration I can help you with? You...want me to give you a house or...better clothes?”   “My clothes are fine,” he argues in offense. You mutter an apology and he smiles, carefully considering it. “There’s nothing I particularly want….well...I guess there is one thing…”   It’s the best thing you’ve heard all day. “What is it?”   “You should be asking me ‘who is it?’” A soft smile comes across his features, tinged with a bit of sadness and regret. You recognize it well after considering you see it in the mirror. “You told me you’re here because you...work in the candle industry?”   “Y...yeah?” You’re unsure of where he’s going with this.   You’re not particularly proud of your occupation. The company that you work for isn’t Yankee Candle or Bath and Body Works. It’s for some crazy lady that’s passionate about candles and somehow engineers the worst smelling ones that you’ve ever had the unfortunate opportunity of sniffing.   When you’re in the office, you’re constantly getting migraines and headaches, enough that you have headache relieving medicine in your top drawer at your desk. All year round, they light the campfire roasted blueberries five wick candles — which smell more like the sweetest perfume mixed with axe body spray that boys used to spray around their lockers in high school.   The worst part is that you can’t even openly gag, second to the fact that the awful odor always becomes stuck to your clothing. You can leave your work at work, but you always bring home the scents back into your home, making it linger on your curtains and in your bedroom.   The mere thought of the candles brings shivers to your spine.   “I’m here because I’ve been looking for someone.”   “You’ve been looking for someone?” you echo him with a frown, unsure if you heard correctly, but Taehyung nods.   “I...I wasn’t a good guy back in the day. I’m someone who you might’ve called a….fuckboy….but I swear I’ve straightened out.” His hands lower, slowing down his wild gestures and you patiently wait as he explains himself. “I might or might not have dumped, well, no, that’s not the right word...I...cheated on a girl I really liked.”   You’re unimpressed, but the dots are easily connected. “And you’re here to win her back?”   The bohemian-hobo styled man nods. “When she left, I realized how much I love her. It really broke me and made me think a lot about things.”   He came all the way here to find her and win her back.   You have mixed emotions — not sure if he’s an asshole for cheating in the first place, moved that he’s learnt his lesson the hard way and came all this way, or if he’s just a plain idiot to think anyone would come crawling back after being cheated on. He doesn’t look like he’s been doing well either.   But you don’t know their relationship, so you make no comments.   Instead, you eye him up and down. “How long have you been here for?”   You thought he was a permanent resident. He certainly acts very accustomed to the lifestyle here, enough that he travels around with a few bags from this place to the next.    “A year.”   “You’ve been here for an entire year searching for her?!”    He’s definitely an idiot.   “I don’t know where she lives, only that she’s here in Macau. She doesn’t release a lot of info on social media and all my texts and messages to her are ignored. I think she’s changed her number too. Her friends don’t know much about her whereabouts either and they wouldn’t tell me if they knew.”   You frown, at a loss with his situation. “How long has it been since you….parted ways then?”   “Few years?” He shrugs. “Three or four.”   “Huh. Well, okay then.” It’s not too bad — his issue is simple enough. He just wants to win back this girl. Though you’ll admit, it feels more like Taehyung’s the prince than Cinderella. But you don’t mind what’s been presented in front of you. Through love and romance, he can achieve his happy ending and you'll be set free. You were scared he was interested in a political career which would mean you’d have to stick by his side for the rest of your life or until he retires. “D-do you know where she is now?”   “If I did, she’d be here with me.” He smiles.   “So...you have no clue?”   “No clue!” he chirps back and you’re yet again unimpressed.   “Oh god,” you groan, running a hand over your face in defeat. You’ll do whatever it takes to make it a success, but that means his problems are yours.   “I have a few leads though.” Taehyung smiles again, eyes twinkling like you’re his sun and maybe you are. At this rate, anyone who can help his hopeless ass is his savior. “But I’m starting to think based on your reaction that I should take you on that offer of getting better clothes.” A tinkling laugh spills out of his mouth. “I can’t go to her looking like this, right?”   He puts his arms out, staring down at his own body. It’s comfortable attire, but dirty with many stains and holes as if it’s been his only clothes for the past several months. You sigh, nodding. “It’s good to have some self-awareness.”   Taehyung scoffs playfully. “I’ll let that insult slide because we’re going shopping, my fairy. But I won’t let it happen next time.”   His fairy? You guess he’s not wrong there.   //   You quickly learn that Kim Taehyung likes shopping. He enjoys it enough that he doesn’t want you conjuring up clothes for him and wants to make it a full on activity. He enjoys it enough to hop in a cab with you beside him, looking at the driver and saying “Galaxy Macau, please.”   The two of you are driven to the ritziest part of the city where the most affluent tourists are shopping with one another. It’s grand and beautiful, making you stop to take it all in. The place you were staying at was more dingy, part of a suburban area where there were alleyways and stray dogs, streets emptier and only full during rush hour when citizens go to work or return home.   Here, resorts and five-star hotels are all around you. There’s fine dining restaurants and one of the biggest shopping centers towering above your frame. Here, you learn Kim Taehyung doesn’t just like shopping. He fucking loves it.   “Look at this. It’s cashmere.”   “Cool.” You feel out of place. But Taehyung owns it with his confidence. He has an unlimited amount of money anyways, you’ve conjured up two thousand in the proper currency. There’s no reason for him to feel self-conscious, even if he looks like a caveman — his pocket is literally bursting with bills. It looks like he’s robbed a bank. As he walks past clerks and attendants, their eyeballs nearly fall out of their sockets from the sight of the side bulge of his pants.   “Hello, do you need any help?”   “Yes, hello.” Taehyung flashes an eager smile. “I was actually looking to get your most expensive suit. Could you tailor it right now too?”   “It might be additional costs to get it done right now, but we can certainly do it for you.”   “Awesome. I’ll do it for whatever cost.”   “R-right this way.”   It feels like you’re a mother-in-law, watching the bride try on wedding gowns. You’re sitting on the plush lounge chair, waiting patiently. Three attendants crowd Taehyung, measuring tapes slung by their necks, convincing him to buy these shoes or that belt. When he has a hard time deciding, he decides to take all of it.   “What do you think of this?”   He pulls on the edge of his sleeve, fiddling with it nonchalantly and you’re amazed. “Wow.” It’s the only thing you can utter. The saying that a fitted suit makes any man look good is all too true. The makeover is drastic and despite his hair being disoriented and he still has a five o’clock shadow, he looks like an aged scientist going to a fancy gala. He’s slimmer and taller than you thought too, and you try not to focus on the bulge in his tight trousers. “Yeah, it’s good.”   “Enough to make her speechless.” He laughs heartily, joking around with one of the attendants like she’s his new best friend. All three ladies laugh loudly and it’s obvious that they’re faking it. “I’ll take it.”   “Great choice!”   As she scatters off, another attendant waltzes up to you and hands you some fancy bottled water for free. “Would you like to look for anything, Miss?”   “Oh, I’m fine. Thank you.”   “Are you sure?” Taehyung turns, halting before he goes back into the dressing room.   “Yeah.” You wave him off. At the end of the day, you’re not here for yourself, even if you want to be the one trying on all of this and go shopping to your heart’s content. You’re here for him.   Taehyung ends up picking two suits, two pairs of socks, one belt, and three sets of ties. He’s already wearing his Italian loafers that are personally hand-stitched by some sixty year old man with fifty years of experience. He’s reeking in wealth and one might believe he won the lottery.   The next place the pair of you enter is a salon. You’re ecstatic when he tells you he wants to get a haircut with a blowout style and wants his face shaven. But as he’s getting himself cleaned up, you sit at the waiting area, tapping on your phone. You’re answering texts back from your boss who’s asking if you’ve arrived yet. You can practically hear her squawking voice in your ear.    “Y/N?”   “Hmm?” You look up and you almost drop your phone. “T-Taehyung…?”   “You looked so focused. What’s going on?”   “N...no...nothing.”   You can’t believe your eyes. His hair is cut and styled, slightly swept to the side with part of his bangs down. His face is shaven, skin clean and smooth underneath, showing his sharp jawline. The cherry on top is that he’s changed into his suit too. Holy fuck. You may or may not be salivating. He looks ten years younger than before — princely too.   “What do you think?” He shows himself off, spinning in slow circles without registering that everyone’s eyes in the salon are plastered on him. Those waiting are gawking over their magazines, folks in their chairs have turned around and even the hairstylists are frozen with scissors in mid-air. One accidentally cuts off a chunk of the lady’s curls without realizing.    “Y-yeah. It’s nice.”   “Let’s go. I wanna look for some cologne.”   There’s no time to waste, no more ogling.    If Taehyung wasn’t going to kill you through envy, then you guess he wants to kill you from shopping till you drop. Anything that he likes, he buys. You end up holding all the bags and it doesn’t help when attendants give you looks of pity. To them, you appear as his poor maid that he’s stringing along. In a way, you are his maid…   Well, you’re more like a servant.   You just have a prettier, fancier title of ‘fairy godmother’.   The name bestowed to you makes you bitter, and that bitterness expands tenfolds with the realization of how fucking unfair it is that Taehyung’s beautiful too. Ever since he got his makeover, transforming from head to toe, hoping that girl he’s looking for will accept him back in a blink of an eye, he’s been even more captivating than before. His clothes are well-fitting, aura strong and confident. Taehyung commands attention simply by walking into a room.   “Are you sure you don’t want anything too?”    He glances at you once he hears the sigh you release. Taehyung’s leaving the spa after getting a facial and naturally, you pick up all the bags to follow him out onto the hot street.   “I’m fine.”   He hums a low note and steals another peek at your profile. “So…….what is the candle business like?”   “You’re curious?” You eye him suspiciously, wondering why he’s trying to make small talk with you. Candles are the most boring subject in the world, but when he nods and insists, you tell him, “Well….you sell candles. Every season there are new candles released. You usually have to go to the lab and try out different scents, test which you want, see what the trends are, try mixing things with each other. There’s the whole marketing and sales aspect to it too….”   “What’s your job?”   “I’m an assistant to my boss. I do whatever she doesn’t want to do...so here I am, about to meet an investor.” You give a lifeless laugh that morphs into awkward silence. It’s now that it hits you — you’re a servant through and through. “It’s….as fun as it sounds.”   “It sounds kind of exciting. You don’t like it?”   “God, no.” You scoff, shaking your head.   “Then why are you working there?”   “I need money.”   “Everyone needs money.” His lips are pouty and his eyes twinkle. “Is there something else you like to do?”   “....history,” you murmur, “I have a master’s in it.”   “Really?!” His brown eyes widen, impressed. “That’s so cool!”   “Actually?” It’s your turn to be surprised. “I thought that would sound….lame…”   “Why would it be? Think of it like this, if you end up in a time machine or you fall into some hole and you’re forced to travel to the past, then you know what’s going on. That’s super cool!”   You laugh, caught off guard with how wholesome he is. “I guess. I never thought of that.”   “Why aren’t you doing anything with that degree since you obviously like it so much? Like...be a historian or something.”   “Yeah, that’s easier than it sounds.” You shrug. “People aren’t looking for people with history degrees.”   “I’m sure you can find someone out there. Opportunities always come and go,” he says and looks off into the distance, slightly wistful. “I don’t have any fancy degrees like you, but I went to an art program for a while and I have a few certificates in photography and painting in photorealism.”   “That’s amazing…” And you really mean it too. You took an art class once and it went so atrociously that you have high respect for anyone who pursues that kind of academics. “Think you can paint me?”   “I’d have to charge you.” Taehyung playfully bumps your shoulder with his own. “But because you’re my fairy godmother, maybe I’ll let you have a discount.”   You scoff and your eyes travel down to the numerous bags you’re holding. “Are you done shopping now?’   “Ummm…..one more store.” He leans down and takes the bags off your left hand. Taehyung ends up sauntering off, holding the bags and throwing it over his shoulder casually.   You smile, a tiny scoff coming from your chest before you pick up your pace, catching up with him.   The both of you enter the last store and this time, it’s not for him. Taehyung insists that you wear something half-decent as well. It’s amusing how he rifles through the racks of clothing and hands you things to try — it feels like you’re a poor girl in a drama and he’s the son of a rich mogul. You both end up choosing an expensive black dress and you can’t remember the last time you had something so nice.   It’s been long since you’ve been pampered and you’re surprised at how thoughtful he is.   “Are we going to go look for her yet, Taehyung?”    He has his clothes, he’s cleaned himself up. There’s nothing else missing.   “We can search for her tomorrow.” His arm drapes over your shoulder. “Once I get my happy ending, my little fairy godmother’s going, so I should make the best out of this, right?”   You open your mouth to say something before closing it. You can understand where he’s coming from. Plus, if he finds her tomorrow then your job is done. Tomorrow it will be over.   “Then where are we going next?”   “To the best place here!” Taehyung hollers and cheers, other arm shooting right up. “Venetian Macau!”   //   You end up conjuring some red, obnoxious sports car upon his request, so you have him to blame with why your hair is whipping you in the face and you have yourself to blame on why you chose to envision a vehicle without a roof.   But your parents would be so proud of you right now — you gave your Cinderella the perfect ball gown to wear and provided the pumpkin carriage...metaphorically, of course.   The drive is less than ten minutes and soon, he’s parking in front of the grand hotel that has fountains springing up in front and the bustling sound of ringing and clanging from inside spilling out. The valet happily takes the key and you two cut through the casino to the lobby, taking the largest room they offer — the Presidente, a 12-bay suite with four bedrooms.   It’s at the very top floor and it’s massive, the size of an entire house. You set all the bags down, staring in awe at the rotating bed, the jacuzzi and bathtub out in the open. It’s all white and glass, the mere kitchen the same size as your apartment back at home. But what takes your breath away is the view of the entire city.   The windows take the entire side of the wall, pristine to the point where you feel like with an outstretched arm, you could touch the city with your fingertips. The towers and buildings surround you, the smoke curling up to the blue sky. The entire world is at your feet.   “It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Taehyung approaches, standing at your side as you both look out.   “Yeah…” You’re speechless, mouth full of cotton. “It’s gorgeous.”   “I love this city,” he whispers and then turns towards you. “I’m glad you’re here.”   “Because I’m your fairy godmother?”   “No. Just because.” He walks away, leaving you confused, but before you can ask anything, Taehyung throws a glance over his shoulder. “You should change into your dress. It looks weird if I’m the only one in a suit. Makes me look overdressed.”   “Where are we going now?”   “Down to the casino, silly.” He laughs and his gaze intensifies. “We gotta win some, Y/N.”   Taehyung knows fully he doesn’t need to win anything. He has an unlimited supply of money right now, of wishes for that matter. But you give into his will out of defeat. You change into your own dress which is tighter than you remember, though he tells you it’s just fine. And with your wand, you grant him his wish of a hundred thousand dollars.   No sooner are you walking alongside him in the boisterous casino. Taehyung’s hands are dug into his pants pocket like he owns the place and he throws his money carelessly. He acts recklessly and boldly, but in doing so, he wins.   “This gentleman has put fifty thousand on red! Double or nothing on red!   “Let’s go!” he hollers. “Let’s go!”   It feels like you’re babysitting. Taehyung doesn’t need this — he’s simply playing with his money at this point…..no, money is practically useless to him now that he has an infinite amount. Yet, everyone around you is watching with bated breath, egging him on, cheering and clapping. There’s a crowd circling the table and the hype is infectious, making you nervous too.   You’re frozen as the ball is thrown.   It rolls around as the roulette table spins, ticking like a metronome. It lands on red and black and red and blank until it stops…..   Right on red.   “Oh my god!” There’s sharp inhales before it breaks out into applause and cheers. Immediately, Taehyung turns beside him and hugs you as if it was on instinct. He laughs and squeezes you before lifting you off your feet, arms wrapped around your waist. He spins you around in circles, making you giggle. “We did it! We fucking did it!”   You’re still being spun. “Taehyung!”   “Congratulations! You’ve just won a hundred thousand dollars!”   People are congratulating him, watching with envy and clapping. One man smiles and sips on his bourbon. “Is she your lucky charm?”   He finally sets you down on your feet, wearing a ginormous grin. “Oh, she’s my lucky charm, alright. She’s my precious fairy.”   You’re embarrassed by his declaration and others laugh, seeing how close you both are.   “A fairy indeed. I should get a lucky charm myself.”   The lights in the casino whirl around you, neon lights making you dizzy. Your senses are in overdrive, taking in your chaotic surroundings. Without windows, it’s easy to get drunk off the atmosphere, caught up in it without knowing if it’s day or night. There’s a constant barrage of noises, the pink of slot machines accompanying the jittery fall of chips. Levers are pulled, coins flowing through slots, dealers standing back or shuffling their deck of cards.   You’re mesmerized over the bright colours and it’s Taehyung who grounds you. The way he turns around, always checking up and reading your expression, sometimes calling your name — it helps you from being overwhelmed. And you can only stare at the way the vivid lights glow on his skin, thankful that he’s here to tread in this new world with you, a world you are too unfamiliar with.   He lives it up in the casino, gambling and going crazy, popping bottles of champagne. The minute you leave for a bathroom break and return, he’s somehow gotten to know a crowd of young folks. Taehyung’s charming when he wants to be and maybe that’s how you two end up in a limousine on the way to a club with these people.   While you’ve enjoyed yourself thus far, this was most definitely not a fun part for you.   Your feet ache, you’re sweaty and tired….and some girl is perched right on his lap, directly on top of his crotch.   “You should let me come back with you later,” the doll-like girl whispers seductively while twisting a strand of her curly hair with her finger. She knows what she’s doing, you’ll give her that.    There’s hollering all around you, strangers acting idiotically and pouring vodka down their throats. You feel out of place. Too old for this. You’re a woman with a job who pays her own bills and these kids are acting like dogs in heat or it’s the first time their parents aren’t watching them.   But you sit still, narrowing your eyes onto Taehyung and picking up on the private conversation because you’re his fucking servant.   “Sorry, babe. I don’t do that kind of thing anymore.” He flashes a sly smile. “I have someone special to me.”   “But I thought you said she was only your fairy.” The girl gives an exaggerated pout and spins her head around to stare at you. You look back at her impassively and she returns to Taehyung, playing with the collar of his ironed dress shirt. “How about this...if she’s your fairy, I can be your angel. I promise I’m a good girl. I won’t misbehave.”   Taehyung chuckles as he leans back, legs widening a bit more. “No, I have an angel already and it’s not Y/N. This other girl...I love her.”   Despite what he says, you’re beginning to doubt his feelings — otherwise, why would he let some other chick sit on his lap. But you don’t make any comments. Instead, your death glare intensifies and you angrily chew on your chocolate bar that the limousine provided. You haven’t had a proper meal all day and you needed something to bring your blood sugar up. �� “Then where is she? She’s obviously not here with you.”   “I’m looking for her.” He grins proudly. “I’m a monogamous man now. I don’t like playing around so much anymore. Sorry to disappoint.”   “Aww...you won’t make an exception for me?” She bats her lashes back and forth.   “I can’t,” he answers and before the girl can huff out and try to coax him otherwise, her friends call her out for being desperate and thirsty. She pouts, sliding off his lap and in the next two minutes, the limo is pulling up at the obnoxious nightclub.   As if the neon lights from the casino weren’t enough, now it was strobe lights flashing to the back of your eye balls and making you see stars. Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind as he dances with his new best friends. On the other hand, you slide up to the bar, making an order of the cheapest drink to sip in. Unfortunately, there’s no food and when you asked to suck on some lemon slices instead, the bartender shot you a weird look and told you they weren’t for sale.   “You’re not gonna dance?” Taehyung joins you briefly, strands of his blonde hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. It was no wonder he was drawing in women and men alike as if he were a magnet — the man looked like a sculpted Greek God that descended from the heavens.    “No!” you shout back, straining your voice against the booming music. The vibrations were shooting all the way up to your bones.   “Why not?! Don’t be a downer! Let’s have some fun!”   You barely finish your drink before he’s pulling you out on the dance floor. It’s terribly awkward and feels like you have two left feet as you stumble out, trying to dance with him. You don’t appreciate others rubbing against you either, so you move close to Taehyung. And he doesn’t have any grievances as he pulls you against him too.   You wish you could shut your eyes and wave your wand around right now. If only your wishes could be granted, you’d hope to be in bed, curled up in the sheets at a cozy house, perhaps a cottage in some secluded place with mountains and a waterfall.    But when midnight strikes the clock, instead of Cinderella rushing back home…..   The both of you end up here.   “Why do you look so sad? Want me to hire a male dancer for you?”   “No.” You’re sitting in the corner with your hands in your lap. It reminds you of when you were put in time-out at home. “And why do you think I look like this? We’re in a strip club, Taehyung.”   “And what’s the issue with that? If girls stripping isn’t your thing, there’s plenty of guys too.” The idiotic boy points off and you don’t even bother looking. “Look, dude’s wearing a thong.”   It was an exclusive booth, the best seat in the house and full view of the stage. Several girls were off to the side, giggling and giving a private show to the ‘friends’ Taehyung had made hours earlier. He paid a lot to get a spot like this in the top strip club of Macau — but of course, money meant nothing to him now that he had an overabundant amount of it.   The more and more you get to know Taehyung, the more disgusted you are. The rich lifestyle doesn’t suit him at all. He was at least cute and somewhat wholesome pre-fairy-godmother-magic. Now that he had endless wishes via you and he’s gotten rich, he’s adopted the ‘fuck bitches, get money’ that rappers promote in mainstream media.    You swear Cinderella’s story had more decency than this.   Should you really be surprised though? Fuck boys never change. And you’re especially witnessing that feat as he cheers on his friends that are trying to slap some asses…..   Before you can get a hernia, you end up falling asleep. The last thing you see is a magician on stage using his thick wand to undo his pants. When you come to consciousness, Taehyung’s shaking you awake, all his ‘friends’ gone and it’s three in the goddamn morning.   Finally, the pair of you are going back to the hotel. Taehyung’s arm is draped around your shoulder as usual and he’s teasing you for being grouchy while petting your bed hair.    But damn straight you’re grumpy. You went gambling, then to a club, then to a strip show. You’re tired and sticky and disgusted with Taehyung. Still, you can’t come to hate him for dragging you around like this or for being an absolute douchebag. He’s too happy with you and the grin on his face is too infectious.   You collapse on the bed as soon as you get in, not having enough energy to wash your grimy skin or peel off your tight dress. Like you, Taehyung simply undoes the top button of his dress shirt and he collapses onto the soft mattress.   There is silence.   You nearly drift off to sleep, but then he interrupts.   “Thanks, Y/N.”   One of your eye opens and you find him staring at you. You stare back at him. “...you’re welcome. Did you have fun?”   “Sort of.”   “Only sort of?”   “It was alright.” The answer takes you by surprise since he seemed to have the time of his life. Taehyung continues to explain, “I wanted to see what it was like — it’s been a long time since I did anything like that. But once you get home….it’s kind of quiet, huh?”   “The quiet’s nice.” You shuffle, getting comfortable and relishing in what he’s most afraid of.   “Makes everything else from earlier seem empty though,” he murmurs softly, but you hear it. He wears a contemplative expression, gazing straight into your eyes. Before your lips can part and you can say anything, he plasters a grin on his face like earlier and changes the subject. “You wanna go eat?”   “Eat?”   “I know you were hungry. I’m sort of hungry too.”   There’s a pause. As tired and sleepy as you were a few minutes ago, you were wide awake again. It was obvious to see that Taehyung’s adrenaline was still coursing through his body too. And he was right — you were starving. You imagine that some food in your system would make sleep even nicer.   So with any determination that you can muster, you haul yourself up, scratching the back of your neck. “Sure. Where to?”   “I know a place.” He tugs on your wrist before you can walk off. “Wait, can I make a wish first?”   “What is it?” You automatically look around for your wand. Of course, it appears on the coffee table, always there no matter where you go off to.   “I was thinking about things and I really want to...travel. I want to make the wish now in case something happens. Y’know, it’s good to be prepared. And I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”   “Alright.” You grab your wand without a second to waste, not thinking twice. “Where to?”   “Umm…..I haven’t decided. Can you just give me tickets to every destination in the world? The most popular places to visit. Two of each in case I want to visit again. And if it’s possible, they don’t have a set time or date, so I can fill it in later and decide whenever I want to go.”   “Sure.” You shrug, finding his specific request achievable. “But can I also make a request?”   “What?” He grins as you look down at yourself, pinching at the skin-tight fabric of the dress.   “I’d really like jeans and a sweater.”   //   It’s not a fancy restaurant. Not in the least bit. There aren’t any lobsters, fresh crabs or truffle for sale. Rather, it’s a run-down burger joint that runs for twenty four hours. He shrugged and told you nothing could beat a good burger and that he was quite the fan of fast food.   You laughed and slid into the booth across from him after picking up the order from the poor teenager working the night shift.   “Are you going to finish all that?” You’re looking right at his two burgers and his mountain of fries.   Taehyung puts a hand on his chest in mock offense. “Are you shaming me right now?”   “No. It’s just a waste to throw away food.”   “Trust me, I’ll eat this all.”   “If you need any help. I’m sittin’ right here for you.” You give him the hint, pretending to nudge him across the table and he grins, sliding the fries in the middle.   “I thought we were sharing anyways.”   “Oh. We were?”   “Course we can share.” He bites into his burger and hums at the taste, having missed it. You eat as well, food tasting glorious on the palette of your tongue. There’s been too many days and nights of nibbling on instant noodles that even greasy, cheap fast food tasted delicious.   “I was staring,” you mumble past a mouthful.    Taehyung stops. His cheeks are puffed up and he stares at you through his thick lashes without you realizing. Slowly, a soft smile spreads into his face, all too fond of you.   “Sorry.” He looks away the same time you glance up at him. “For dragging you around all night. I know you weren’t having that much fun.”   “No. It was alright.” You set down your burger, dusting your fingers off and picking a fry to dip it into ketchup. “I just got tired and I was a bit….bothered.”   “About?”   “This girl you’re searching for….” You don’t mean to question his intentions, but it’s been pressing on your mind ever since you met him. “.....do you actually love her, Taehyung?”   There’s silence in the restaurant.    The fluorescent lights whirr above you, flies circling the light. Taehyung swallows his mouthful, caught off guard. A knot is made between his brows. “What do you mean? Course I love her. Why?”   “I don’t know…” You shrug, trying to brush it off, but he insists you explain.   “Y/N.”   A sigh leaves your mouth and you look directly at him, deciding not to spare the blonde man from your thoughts. “If it were me, Taehyung, if someone I loved was out there and I truly cared about them and I was looking for them — I wouldn’t waste a single second.”   “Well, I’ve been searching for an entire year now.”   “Macau isn’t that big,” you retort. “Have you been looking for her all this time?”   “Yes! I—”   “Then why not search today? Because you wanted a break? Because you wanted to enjoy what I’m giving you before I’m gone?” You’re breathless and the truth of your anger divulges, “If you were in love, you wouldn’t let other girls sit on your lap—”   “She was the one who sat there!” he argues and from an outsider’s view, it looks like you’re both a couple fighting. The teenager standing at the counter stares and eavesdrops like he’s watching a television drama. “It wasn’t my fault!”   “Doesn’t matter. You let her sit there.” Staggering breaths are ripped from your lungs. You’re fighting in place of the girl that Taehyung’s searching for, a girl you don’t even know. “What about the strip club?”   “What about the strip club?!” His arms are thrown in the air, burger nearly flying out of his hand. “That has nothing to do with anything!”   “What about calling me your—” precious fairy.   But the words catch in your throat, caught in your mouth. You lean back and look away. “You know what? Never mind.”   He exhales in frustration, running a hand through his hair and realizes the ruckus the two of you are making. Taehyung leans over the table and speaks in a low voice, “You’re right, okay? I know how it looks…..I was the one who cheated on her at the end of the day and now I’m going around and it looks like I haven’t changed.”   The food becomes more tasteless as he continues, “The moment she left, I knew I fucked up badly. All his bullshit of partying and drinking and girls, it’s fun. But it was fucking worthless. It still is. I don’t expect her to take me back, Y/N. I just...want to apologize and get some closure. I know I’m an ass, but I’d like to think I’m at least trying to improve myself. I don’t want to be the person I was back then. I never want to go back to being that person.”   You eat again, forcing yourself to swallow it down and let the sugary liquid of the soda tingle your tongue. “Then what do you find fulfilling? Painting and photography?”   You’ll always be skeptical at the whole ‘I’ve changed’ narrative, but you can at least understand where he’s coming from. You know most people can’t keep up with the partying lifestyle. At some point, everyone wants more for themselves. More and more. To make the most out of life.   You’re the same — always wanting better.   The problem is if you can ever fulfill those desires.   A twinkle in Taehyung’s eyes ignites, glad you asked and a cute smile comes across his face. “You remembered?”   “You only told me a few hours ago. My mind’s not that of a goldfish. Who do you even take me for, Kim Taehyung? I’m your fairy godmother.”   “You don’t act like you want to be,” he points out and you’re surprised. You look up at him and he smiles as if his intuition senses more about you than you’ll even realize.   “I...just want you to get your happy ending.”   “You seem stressed.” He shrugs nonchalantly. “That’s all. And I guess, you make me feel a bit rushed too.”   “I don’t,” you murmur, finally admitting it aloud. You called him out on his feelings, brought question to his convictions. It’s only fair if you’re honest as well and you have an inkling he might be sympathetic to your situation. “I don’t want to be. You’re not wrong. I never wanted to be anyone’s fairy godmother.”   Taehyung quirks his head to one side. “You don’t like magic? I think it’s pretty cool.”   “Yeah, but I’m your servant,” you mumble with a pout.   He immediately interjects, “You’re not.”   “I can’t make my wishes come true. Do you know what it’s like when it’s your magic, your wand, but you can’t use it for yourself or your family?”   There’s a pause. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess it really sucks.”   A small laugh pulls out of you. “Psh, yeah. I know that sounds incredibly selfish but—”   “It doesn't. It’s completely understandable.” Taehyung’s expression is blank and he blinks innocently at you. “It’s like your lottery ticket is given to someone else.”   “Yeah…” It’s moments like these that he catches you off guard. When he isn’t so unbearable, but sweet, compassionate and empathetic. It’s no wonder so many people are drawn to Taehyung without needing to know him for long. “Since I was young, my parents shoved down my throat that this is the reason I was born...to serve whoever was my Cinderella. This is supposed to be my life purpose.”   “I don’t think so.” His lips are pouty, gaze intense. “Maybe it’s part of what you have to do, but it shouldn't be your sole purpose.”   “Well it isn’t, but sometimes it sure feels like it.”   He hums a low note and chews on a few fries thoughtfully. “What would you wish for? If the tables were turned and I was your fairy godmother.”   “I don’t know.” You haven’t really thought about it. Coming up with desires that couldn’t be fulfilled would leave you even sadder than before. “I guess, I’d want a house and some money. I’d buy a place for my parents and I wouldn’t have to work anymore. I’d take care of their retirement completely. I’d pay off all my loans too and give money to charity.”   Taehyung acknowledges your choices, finding it pretty close to what he’s going to wish for as well.   A thought comes to mind and your eyes light up. “God! I’d quit my job! Yes, I would actually do that first above everything else!”   He laughs, finding your enthusiasm endearing. “You really must hate candles. But what would you do after that?”   “I’d travel. I’d go see the entire world and then eventually, settle down and work as a historian.” The more you think about it, the more eager and energized you become. This fantasy you’re constructing around you sounds so uplifting that the moment reality sets you, you’re guaranteed to be disappointed. But for now, Taehyung gazes at you, admiring how passionate you are. “I’d lead a research team at a university or at a museum. Or maybe I’d work as an archivist and preserve historical pieces. That would be really cool.”   “That sounds really cool. Would you let me work there too?”   “What would you want to do there?”   “I could paint or take photos and you could put it on display at the museum. I’m not half-bad, y’know.”   It’s pleasant to the ears, the mere idea of it sitting well with you. In this fantasy world, you are the princess and it’s a dream you want to relish in. “Sounds like a plan then.”   Taehyung finishes his burger, stuffing his cheeks to the brim. He drinks his soda, sliding the food down his gullet. He hums, thinking of something and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “What about your romantic life?”   “What about my romantic life?” You eye him with feigned suspicion while a smile tickles at the corner of your mouth. “You think I got time for love, Kim? I’m about to make history here.”   He laughs again, heartily and rowdy. His eyes are crinkled, lips spread into a rectangular shape and he nods firmly. “You’re right. I don’t need to find your prince charming when he’s already sitting across from you.”   You grin, finding the situation unbelievable. “Are you flirting with me, Kim Taehyung?”   “I’m stating the truth.”   You scoff. “Aren’t you supposed to be in love with someone else?” The playful question suddenly draws out a silence. He doesn’t say anything, chewing on fries and your brow lifts. “Now that I think about it, you haven’t seen her for years, right?”   “Listen, time makes the heart grow fonder.” His irises twinkle with mischief. “Haven’t you heard of that?”   Another laugh spills out of your body. “Time makes all wounds heal, Taehyung. Time makes you forget.”   “I disagree,” he counters, “I won’t ever forget us.”   Taehyung says it so casually without knowing that the weight of his genuine words makes your cheeks warmer than they should be, You don’t say anything, simply scoffing. But it’s because you’ve been made speechless by him, mouth filling with cotton, caught off guard.    The chatter and banter eventually continues. Conversations come easily between you and him, spilling out without any awkward pauses. He’s charming, a conversationalist that makes you laugh and feel at eased. Soon, the two of you are walking on the street, side by side with synchronized steps. The bustling city is quieter than ever before when it’s four in the morning.   “You won’t leave me as soon as I get my happy ending, right?”   “But what else would you need me to do?”   Taehyung gasps in mock offense. “I thought we were friends!”   “Nah, this is just a business relationship,” you quip.   “Here I thought you were becoming my friend. I can’t believe it’s been one-sided all this time.”   “Thought you’d be used to it by now,” you bite back, this time making him the speechless one.    Taehyung begins to chase you down the street and laughs. “I’m gonna choke you!”   “I bet you like that, huh?!”   Two blocks are made before you’re both tired out from running needlessly. The both of you are less drunk from drinking hours earlier and more off of each other, feeling oddly giddy and happy.   Taehyung walks with his arm draped around your shoulder like that’s the way it should be. At this point, it feels natural even. “You gave me a few ideas.”   “About choking?”   “No! Jeez!” He laughs, the tinkering sound making you giggle. “About wishes. I should prepare more and think about things in the future, not just short-term enjoyment.”   “Wow, Sherlock. You’re a real genius.”   From your sarcastic tone, he pokes your side, tickling you slightly. “I’m being serious here!” He laughs. “I should put some money into my bank. Pay off my loans and buy some stocks or something to make sure my family’s retirement is secure. I want to buy my parents a house and give to charity too.”   “I approve of these wishes.” You bob your head, nodding enough for your neck to break while stumbling in your steps and leaning closer to him without realizing.   “I want to make your wishes come true too,” Taehyung murmurs softly.    Automatically, your head turns and you find him staring down at you. He’s pulled you close and you watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. You could count his lashes if you wanted, see how his cupid’s bow dips, imagine lines through his freckles and moles like it’s stars in the sky and you’re trying to map out constellations.   You look away from him before you do something worthy of regret. “You don’t have to…”   “But I want to.” Taehyung smiles. “It would be an honour to grant your wishes.”   “How would you go about doing that?”   “Well, your wand listens to me and only me. So I can just make your wishes for you. I can say the word.”   You scoff, elbow jutting out to his ribs. Yet, it does nothing to deter him and only puts a wide smile on his face. “You’re going to travel with me?”   Taehyung shrugs. “Sure.”   “Wouldn’t that girl you’re looking for mind?”   “I don’t know and I don’t care if she does or doesn’t. You’re important to me.” He is warm, not just his skin against yours like this, but also in his personality. “You’re my fairy.”   You don’t detest the nickname so much anymore. It’s kind of sweet when he says it like that.   “That’s a big promise to make.”   “Then I’ll have to step up when the time comes.”   “Alright, Kim. Don’t be all talk and no action.”   “I won’t,” he promises. “We should secure a source of money right now though. I don’t feel safe carrying around so much.”   There’s an ATM approaching to the left and the pair of you slow down. Taehyung lets go of you and your hand digs into your pocket, finding the wand magically materializing there. “How much do you want?”   The man hums and picks a number off the top of his head. “A hundred million?”   “You’re going to put a hundred million in your account all at once? That sounds like a bad idea.”   “No one’s going to notice.” He waves his hand off. “Don’t be such a worrier. You’re going to get wrinkles by the time you’re forty.”   “There’s nothing wrong with wrinkles,” you mutter with a sigh. The want trembles in your pocket and a second later, you hand a cheque to him. Taehyung smiles and turns to the ATM. You watch his back, making sure he doesn’t get mugged.   He puts it into his bank, ready to pay off his loans in one go and eventually transfer it to his family and those who are important to him — to charity and to you too.   It was wrong of you to dehumanize Taehyung and boil him down to some ex-fuckboy. He’s more than that, just a little lost, but he’s a ray of sunshine, passionate and eager, thoughtful and sweet. You can feel your heart softening for him and maybe that’s why you’re turning more into an idiot as well.   //   Ken scrolls through his computer.   He’s bored looking through the records and the numerous spreadsheets that have enough numbers to make his brain implode. He blinks wearily, feeling his eye bags deepen in its purple hue. The man has turned off the fluorescent lights, sitting in the darkness. The bright light of the monitor screen casts on his face.   He exhales in exhaustion and drinks his coffee in the thermostat, leaning back in his chair.   But suddenly, there’s a notification on the corner of his screen.   His eyes grow wide on what he sees on the monitor. And Ken spits out his mouthful of coffee. The brown liquid spews off his tongue and drenches his keyboard and all over his dress pants.   He screams, bloodcurdling at the burning temperature and he dabs the mess pathetically with a crumpled tissue while his other hand grabs the phone, going on speed dial. “Boss? Yeah, I’m sorry. But you’re gonna want to see this.”   It goes through a long chain of command. Phone call after phone call until every department is awoken at four thirty. There are grumbles from each person, but the floor becomes alive again. Though there’s more bewilderment and confusion than outright panic.   The phone rings, blaring. It nearly falls off the bedside table.   Seokjin is shocked awake.   He crawls out of his bed, emerging like a bear after a season of hibernation. “What the hell are you calling me for, Namjoon? Do you know that the goddamn time is?” The dark-haired man’s voice is thick and groggy. He scratches his scalp and looks at the time — the red digits reading four thirty seven a.m.    “It’s an emergency.”   “It always is.” Jin stands up nonetheless and switches his lamp on. He grabs his clothes from the closet and sighs, glancing at how puffy his face is in the mirror. “Is it another murder?”   “No. It’s worse.”   It sounds dire and the detective drives quickly to the station. As he arrives, the floor is bustling with people and he doesn’t waste a second to look at the files provided to him. Except—   “This isn’t worse than murder!” he shouts in exasperation, “It’s just some guy under the suspicion of printing money!”   “Yeah, but we’re still part of the investigation team.” Namjoon leans on the desk and takes a sip of his coffee cup like it’s noon and there’s no reason to be grumpy. “It’s still a job.”   “I didn’t even brush my teeth.” Jin glares narrowly at his partner.   “And you still came late,” Namjoon argues back. “I already took a look at his profile and found where he’s staying at. Let’s go.” The older male follows and Namjoon talks as they both walk out. “His name is Kim Taehyung. Male. Late 20’s. Single. Unemployed. But he put a hundred million in his bank account about an hour ago.”   “A hundred million dollars?! Jesus christ, where did he get that?!”   “Yeah, it’s not something you can get from just spending a few nights at the casino. It’s most likely through some kind of money laundering. They’re suspicions that it’s tied with the Jeon family. That’s why our department took the case,” he tells and it all clicks in Jin’s head.   After all, they’ve been investigating gangs and corruption in the city for the better part of two years now.   Though one thing doesn’t make any sense — “But why would they choose this guy?”   “No idea.” Namjoon is honest and as befuddled as the rest of the team. “He’s completely clean as far as we’ve seen. No connection to the family whatsoever, no criminal background, no relations. He came here a year ago and hasn’t been doing much.”   “Is it possible he could be just a new recruit of Jeon’s?”   “To entrust a new recruit with a hundred million dollars?” Namjoon shakes his head. “I’m not sure. Doesn’t sit right with me. We’re going to get him now since there’s reason to believe he might be a flight risk. This Kim Taehyung may be what we need to bust Jeon once and for all.”   Seokjin nods and they both get into the car.   //   At the same time, half across the city in a high-rise building, a shorter man with black hair and frighteningly cold eyes knocks against the door once. It is eerily quiet and after a second, there’s a smooth voice from the other side.   “Come in.”   Jungkook is sitting at his desk, swirling a cup of bourbon in his left hand. The ice clinks against the fragile glass, liquid inside sparkling against the dim chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The person entering automatically lowers his head towards the younger male.   “What’s the matter, Yoongi?” he asks curiously at why he’s being disturbed at this time of night. The walls are dark, expressionless portraits grand, curtains drawn like it’s permanently a state of night in this office.   The man named Yoongi lifts his head. “I received a message from our informant.”   “And?”   “They’re going after an individual named Kim Taehyung. They believe he has connections to us.”   It’s absurd and the leader is made confused. He searches his mind, but is unable to recall such a name. Jungkook has never heard of him in his entire life. “Why would they?”   “This individual deposited a hundred million into his bank account.”   He almost chokes on air. Instead, Jungkook masks a composted exterior he was taught since he was born and sets his drink down. He sits straight and clasps his hand on top of his mahogany desk. “That’s….bold.”   It isn’t idiotic. It’s a tactic. By doing something so brazen, this Kim Taehyung was trying to send a message to everyone else. “Who is this man?”   “We have no idea,” Yoongi answers honestly. “The police force is as confused as we are. He appeared out of nowhere.”   “Then he must be a rival. He may be from Taiwan….” Jungkook considers it and sharply inhales. Kim Tae from Taiwan. This was the Great Gatsby in real life. This mysterious stranger could perhaps have an empire overseas. In less than a day he’s become infamous in Macau. But whatever the case may be….   “Bring him to me.”   “Understood.” Yoongi lowers his head, preparing to leave.   “And whatever information you receive, tell me.” Jungkook stands. “We need to take each threat seriously.”   //   It’s five in the morning when you and Taehyung finally arrive back at the hotel. All the sleep that you had ached for earlier has left your body. You’re past the state of exhaustion and into the stage of deliriousness. But the diminishing logical side of you tells you that you should go to bed anyhow and rest up before going on the search for Taehyung’s girl.   Unfortunately, Taehyung is still hyper energetic, more so than before now that he has two burgers, a mountain of fries and a liter of sugary soda in his gut. He becomes curious of the twenty-four hour gift shop in the lobby, looking at all the knickknacks and snow globes.   You whine to him enough that he laughs and tells you to go up to the room first.   “—floor is he on?”   “Top floor,” the taller one answers and then there’s a pause.    The two males turn their heads to stare at you and it takes a delayed moment for you to enter the elevator. Maybe it’s deliriousness getting to you but both are incredibly handsome men. The slightly shorter one has princely features, full lips and dark hair, clad in a long taupe jacket. The other is a brunette, dressed in a casual topcoat and wearing thick rectangular glasses that reminds you of what a modern spy would wear.   You realize you’ve been drooling when they smile politely at you. “Uh...what floor are you going to miss?”   “Umm…” You swallow your mouthful of saliva, turning to the elevator buttons and finding the top floor already pressed. It strikes you oddly considering you didn’t see anyone else staying there. And for some reason, your mind tickles and you blurt out— “Thirtieth floor, please.”   “Alright.” The brunette presses the button and you watch the metal doors close.   “You know, now that we’re here, we should check out the Paiza Club and Dining lounge. I heard they have something called Chocolate Brioche Bread Pudding that is to die for.”   “We’re here on an investigation, Jin,” the taller one scolds, whispering under his breath.   “You need to lighten up, Namjoon.” He gives an exaggerated and playful sigh, hand plopping on his partner’s shoulder. “When you can have some fun, you should take it! At this rate, you’ll die a workaholic.”   “I’m not going to go eat Bread Pudding.”   “You’re no fun.” He clicks his tongue and stares straight ahead, speaking lowly, “We went all the way here, but we might not even run into Kim Taehyung. Should make the most out of this trip.”   In the midst of their conversation, you’ve turned to stare at them. This time not because you’re marveling at their handsomeness. The name rings in your ears and you don’t realize just how intensive your gaze is, hardcore even. It doesn’t take three seconds before the hair on the back of their necks raise and they crane their necks over.   “Can we help you?” the man named Namjoon asks.   “N-no, I’m okay.”    You whip your head to look forward again. But it only arouses suspicion and the two experienced detectives exchange an array of expressions with one another.    Seokjin smiles and glances at you. “Did you have a fun night tonight?”   You’re shocked that he’s speaking to you, but you manage to scrape up something coherent. “Me? Yes. I was down at the casino.” The corner of your mouth lifts stiffly. “It was fun.”   Jin steps forward, closer, and you feel cornered. His hand slips into his coat pocket and he pulls out a picture of someone you recognize all too well. It’s a fuzzy photo, one that looks like his driver’s license. “Did you happen to see this man?”   You wear a blank look, mind delayed and then you peek up at them both, quirking your head to the side. “Oh. I met him in the lobby earlier this afternoon.”   “So, he’s staying here, correct?”   “Yes, I think so.” You nod once, not sure where all these lies were coming from. It was instinctual to protect Taehyung and your intuition told you not to trust these two men. “We talked briefly when he sat next to me at a slot machine. He seemed fairly nice. Are you looking for him?”   “We’re just searching to inquire about a case he may have witnessed,” Namjoon says simply without revealing much. He turns his body towards you, narrowing his eyes and watching your every movement. “Did he happen to say anything to you? Anything important at all?”   “Not at all. I believe we talked about the….gift shop and the snow globe sales in there. He left afterwards, but he seemed pretty nice.” It’s a good thing your body is too tired to make any suspicious movements. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience. Luckily, your concern for Taehyung comes across as concern for society. “Can I ask what happened?”   “It’s a private investigation, we can’t reveal anything.” — “He’s under the suspicion of money laundering.”   Namjoon and Jin answer at the same time. And as it tumbles out of their months, realization sinking in, there’s a suffocating silence drawn out. The two detectives exchange expressions, Namjoon glaring and Jin knowing he fucked up badly.   You give your best gasp that’s not completely fabricated. “T-that’s horrible!”   “Well, hopefully we can catch him soon and make the streets safer.” Jin offers a tense smile to comfort your worries.   The elevators open to the thirtieth floor. “Good luck and good night then.”   “Yes, goodnight.” The handsome investigator nods and you smile, walking away as the doors close and you hear the two men bickering with each other.   The moment it’s quiet again, you whip yourself into the fire escape, running. Your feet shuffle as if you’re doing drills, step after step, leaping down the staircases. You nearly trip and eat shit on the hard ground, but you catch yourself, gripping onto the banister.   It’s thirty levels you have to dive down and you just hope Taehyung hasn’t gone up yet. Every five floors, you peek out to the elevator, finding the numbers increasing to show Namjoon and Jin are continuing upwards. Luckily, the other elevator remains stagnant and you can only wish for the best.   A deep breath is stolen through the seams of your lips and you pass a few drunk people giggling. Sweat drips down your head. Curses spill out of your mouth. You almost start crying, but you make it to the lobby, launching your body out, startling several strangers as you burst out the door.   The person you’re looking for is standing right there.   Taehyung is innocently waiting in front of the elevators, rocking back and forth from his heels to his toes. You don’t waste a second, throwing yourself at him. The second Taehyung sees you, on instinct, a grin spreads across his face. He opens his arms and catches you, hugging you back.   “Y/N? What’s wrong? Did you take the stairs?”   You’re hyperventilating. “T-T-Tae…”   The blonde man has an endeared expression as he looks down at you. His smile softens and he holds your arms before lifting up his left wrist, showing off the plastic bag. “In the end, I couldn’t choose any snow globe or postcard, but I got cat mugs for us. They’re matching and in the shape of a cat! Fifty percent off for the second one too! Cute, huh?”   “T-Taehyung…..th...e….the….p...p-o...lice…”   “What?”   “Th...e...p...o..li….c….e”   “What?”   “The police are here!” you whisper harshly and out of desperation. All at once, his expression falls and he pales.   “What?”   //   The two investigators linger outside the door. They shift the weight of their foot from one to the next, waiting patiently as if they’re trick-or-treaters on Halloween or simply very insistent missionaries who want to enlighten people and lead them away from Hell.   But after a full minute, there’s still silence and no movement made on the other side.   Seokjin leans over and rings the doorbell again. The sound can be heard echoing throughout the suite. Jin rings the bell yet again and this time he knocks five times.   “Police! Open up!”   Silence.   Jin cranes his neck to his frustrated partner. “I don’t think he’s in there.”   There’s no choice and Namjoon’s patience is running too thin. He digs in his pocket, taking the keycard out and he swipes it at the handle. It flashes green and he pushes the door open.   “Ooh, breaking the rules, aren’t we, Joon?” Jin teases, “Look at how bold you’re getting. Barging in without a search warrant? I’m proud. Never thought I’d see the day you’d actually bend the rules a little.”   “Hey…” Namjoon enters the room without looking back.   “Yeah?”   “Can you shut up?”    “Will do.”   The two of them enter, yelling out that they’re police. But like before, there aren’t any responses. They check each room thoroughly, peeking in the closet, looking underneath the bed. It’s empty. There aren’t any suspicious belongings either and when Jin and Namjoon regroup, they suspect this Kim Taehyung must’ve known they were coming and purposely slipped under the radar.   “Damn.”   This person wasn’t to be messed with.   //   “Oh my god, oh my god.” You’re shaking your head, whispering in disbelief. Panic has set over your body and caused you to hyperventilate, blood rushing in your veins, air never staying in your lungs. “We are so fucked, we are so fucked, Taehyung. Holy fucking shit. We’re going to jail.”   “We’re not going to jail,” he counters.   “They think you’re involved in money laundering!” you spit at him. “How are we going to explain the one hundred million dollars?! God, I knew that was a bad idea. I should’ve stopped you. No...it’s not your fault. You wouldn’t blame a four year old for eating candy—”   “I’m not a four year old!”   “—you’d blame the parent that gave it to them. I fucked up.” You’re pacing back and forth, fully aware that it’s not helping, but you don’t know what else to do anymore. In the span of a day, you’ve screwed up your entire life. “I fucked up!”   “Y/N, stop.” His hands drop down to your shoulders, halting you mid-step. “Can’t we just tell them what actually happened? It’s not like you and I did something actually illegal.”   You shove his hands off of you, narrowing your eyes. “You think we can just waltz up to law enforcement and tell them we got a hundred million from magic?!”   “If we show them, they’d believe us.”   “And then they’d take me away!” Your arms in the air, already envisioning you strapped down to a medical table. “They’d take my wand, take my blood and my family, take me in for experimentation! It’s a family secret for a reason, Taehyung! There’s a reason we don’t go around parading we’re the fairy godmother’s descendants!”   The pair of you were hidden in his old apartment. It was a sad and small room, falling apart in the corners. Taehyung was evicted a few months ago, but he knew it was empty and helped you climb the fire escape as he busted a weak spot on the door outside. Despite it being relatively reclusive, there was no possible way that you could stay long.   The police would know this place and come investigating sooner or later. They’d probably pull the floorboards apart to make sure he’s not hiding any money or drugs. And eventually, they were going to find you tied up with him in all this.   There is no escape.   “How do we undo this?” you ask him, completely lost and hysterical.   His eyes spark with an idea. “Can I wish for an invisibility cloak?”   “I can’t grant you something that doesn’t exist,” you sigh out and begin to consider the possibilities. You had magic on your side after all. It was definitely a choice to give him a gun to protect himself, but then that would be an unregistered firearm and could land the two of you in a bigger world of trouble. The car was unregistered as well. Getting a plane or spaceship out of Macau would be impossible as well. If you snuck out of Macau, you don’t know where you’d go.   It’s funny how you can grant any wish, yet you feel so limited.   Cinderella never went like this — she was never chased down by the fucking police.   “Y/N, we’re going to be okay.”   “How can you say that?! We’re not going to be okay. We’re not! That’s a fact! We’re screwed!”   “Can you please just trust me?!” he shouts above you, probably allowing the neighbors to hear. But his deafening volume shocks you to silence and your mouth seals. Taehyung’s gaze is intense and he licks the seam of his lips, swallowing hard. “I trusted you once. So trust me. Can you do that?”   “I...I don’t know….”   The man in front of you reaches down, holding your hand and squeezing it. As he soothes you, he makes a promise, “I won’t let you get hurt.”   “And what about you?”   “I won’t go to prison.” He wears a soft smile. “Why would I? I didn’t do anything wrong but indulge a little with my fairy.”   It’s stupid of you — but you chose to believe him. Taehyung trusted you once. It’s only right if you give him a chance as well, let him prove to you whatever he wants as you once proved to him your abilities.   For now, the two of you have to look for another place to go to and after a bit of rest, he takes your hand and leaves, never once showing any fear for the circumstances ahead.   //   The security room is cozy with monitors all around, staticy screens showing every corner of the casino. The athletic male is leaning over, watching with intensity as the technician delves into the hours of CCTV footage and searches thoroughly.   Namjoon mutters under his breath, obsessed with figuring out this puzzle, “Where did he go?”   Jin hangs up the phone and joins his partner. “Hoseok and Sowon’s patrol car broke down.”   “Again?”   “Yeah. They’re jump starting it now, but the battery might be done for.”   He shakes his head. “Everything always falls on us, huh?”   “Sometimes it can be easier like that.” Jin’s hand plops on his partner’s shoulder, giving a cheesy grin and squeeze. “Remember all those old days when we were new to the department and we dug up cases even when boss said they were done? But we broke the rules and solved them anyhow? Those were the days! Doesn’t it make you feel nostalgic?”    “No.”   “Oh, come on,” Seokjin whines much to the working technician’s amusement. “We solved so many cases with just the two of us! It was fun!”   “We almost got fired.”   “But we didn’t,” he chimes.   “Stop. Right there.” Namjoon’s finger juts at the monitor and the two detectives lean in with their eyes squinting. As far away as the camera is, the features of the male are indistinguishable. He was dressed cleanly, but looked like he had a whole night out, wrinkled dress shirt with the top buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. He definitely looked like a man of money, power, and sophistication. “Huh. He’s right there.”   “And that was at five twenty…...what time did we arrive, Namjoon?”   “Five fifteen.”   “What in the—” The footage continues and the two men watch as you come running from the fire escape door and launch into Taehyung’s arms, observing the way he hugs you. “Oh my god. That’s her! The girl we talked to in the elevator!”   They exchange looks with one another.   A radio call is received that helps piece things together. Earlier yesterday, half across Macau in a lower class hotel, Taehyung was spotted. The people in the lobby said they witnessed Taehyung and thought he was a gigolo. And yet again, you were there with him the entire time.   “Jin. Get those arrest warrants.” His partner nods in response and he turns to the security technician. “Can we see what direction they went?”   “Sure thing.” The man smiles. “Our CCTV goes for blocks.”   //   Taehyung has spent an entire year in Macau. It’s needless to say that he knows all the kind spots — even if those are places are underneath bridges or in secluded alleys. You trust him enough to lead you as you figure out what to do or at least evade the police for long enough and buy some time so you two can somehow figure out what to do with all the money in his account.   If there was a way to get rid of it, you could act like it was never there in the first place or it was soft of mistake that neither you nor Taehyung have anything to do with.   So, you go with Taehyung, never once realizing who was following you two.   It’s not until you’re standing at an alleyway, taking cover after hearing sirens and being relieved that it’s just an ambulance, do you truly come to realize the detrimental state of the situation.   “We’re safe,” he breathes out as the ambulance passes and you nod.   “Are you Kim Taehyung?” A deep, rumbling voice comes from the end of the alley and you both jolt with a scream. A short man emerges from the darkness. His black hair matches his dark eyes and the colour of his clothing. He is in a leather jacket, boots and gloves too.   You’re alarmed, his piercing gaze sending chills down your spine. You catch the tattoos on his neck, the only skin on his body revealed, and it appears to be symbols spiraling upwards like the tail of a dragon. He’s not holding any weapons as far as you can see, but his presence still sends goosebumps all over your arms.   He’s dangerous — and it’s not only your instincts that scream it.   You and Taehyung are holding onto each other, backing up slightly. “Who are you?”    “Are you or are you not Kim Taehyung?” Yoongi steps forward, coming more into the light and the man holding you pushes you behind him.   “That’s me. What do you want?”   Yoongi scans him up and down as if he’s looking to purchase a fish at the market and is sorely unimpressed with what he sees. There seems to be a glimmer of uncertainty and confusion before he masks it with impassiveness. “There’s someone who wants to speak with you. Come with me.”   “I’m not going anywhere.”   “You don’t have a choice,” the stranger says pressingly. “You can come with me willingly or not. It’s your choice.”   “Who is it?” you pipe up over Taehyung’s shoulder. “Who wants to see us? We’re not going unless you tell us.”   “Jeon Jungkook,” the man becomes tired of the negotiation and hisses the name in a husky timbre like it is a name worthy of a king’s honour.   But there is silence.    You and Taehyung look at each other. “Who?”   The gangster is gawking in disbelief, appalled at this show of ignorance that might be an indication of Taehyung’s sheer power — to not know Jungkook in this world was to either be deaf and blind or high up enough that he never spared a glance at any rival. Just how powerful was this Taehyung? But why is he curled up in an alley with some girl? None of it made sense.   Yoongi is puzzled.   “Jeon Jungkook from the Jeon family.”    Taehyung nudges you. “He sounds familiar. I think I read his page on wikipedia.”   “What did it say?” you whisper despite Yoongi being able to hear everything.   “He’s the leader of a….a….cart.”   “A cart? Like a food cart?”   “No, wait. I think I remember now. Not a cart….a cartel.”   “He’s part of the mob?!” You’re shouting, eyes almost falling out of their sockets. Oh my god. This just got a thousand times worse and you’re starting to wonder if this is a terrible nightmare you’re having on the plane and you haven’t actually landed in Macau yet or maybe this was a hidden camera and you were going to be famous on a variety show. You hoped it was either one...   There was just no way Taehyung could be wanted by the police and now the mafia in Macau.   “You don’t know who Jeon Jungkook is?” Yoongi inquires with raised brows. “Are you sure you’re Kim Taehyung?”   “Yes, but I don’t know who you think I am,” he tries to reason, but it unknowingly sounds like he’s boasting. “I have nothing to do with your cartel.”   “If you show up on our turf, in our space, you are now.”   “What? No! I’m not part of any cartel. I didn’t know this was your turf, but I’m not dealing with any drugs or anything. I am literally not involved in any criminal activity!”   Yoongi’s blank expression is washed over with bewilderment. “Are...you not from Taiwan?”   “No!”   “You….don’t have an empire?”   “What empire?” Taehyung is at a loss as he tries to clarify. “I’m not related to the mafia whatsoever. Not here. Not in Taiwan. Not in Korea. Not anywhere!”   “Then where did you get the money?” The dark-haired individual steps closer, gaze narrowing in. “Where did you get the hundred million dollars from?”   “I...won it at the casino.” Taehyung backs up, holding you close behind him and you shuffle together.   “A hundred million?” The man scoffs before coldly chuckling. “Doubt it. The biggest winning is twenty one million dollars. Yours is almost five times as much.”   “W-what do you want with us? Do you want the money?!”   “No.” He rolls his shoulders and smirks, tugging his gloves to secure them. “At any rate, you should come meet my boss.”   The true lottery that Taehyung won is Kim Seokjin and Kim Namjoon arriving in the nick of time.    He’s down the avenue and flips on his police car siren. Everyone moves out the way and he zips through traffic like he’s part of Fast and Furious. Namjoon leans over and turns it off. Jin turns it back on a second later and flashes a glare.   “Leave it!”   “We’re not chasing anyone! We shouldn’t turn on the siren!”   “But we can avoid all this traffic!” He grips the steering wheel tighter. “My car, my rules.”   “It’s the station’s car.”   “I drive, my rules.” Jin turns his nose up into the air, purposely acting snotty. “If you want to drive, then be my guest. But let me remind you that the last time you did, you hit five trash cans consecutively and skimmed against three other cars.”   “They weren’t parked right at the curb!” he argues and in his rage, turns off the siren.   Seokjin turns it back on, face getting red and hot. He screams, “Hands off my fucking siren, motherfucker!” The warbling pitch of the siren is deafening. It wails in the air, drowning out Namjoon and Jin’s arguing inside the vehicle, while red and blue lights fly into the sky, flashing onto pavement. It comes closer and closer and Yoongi curses underneath his breath. He steps forward, but Taehyung holds you back, making it obvious that he’s not giving you or himself up without a fight.   Your hand wraps around Taehyung’s and you take the opportunity to run. It’s risky to go sprinting across the road while the police car is approaching, but you barely make it and Yoongi has no other choice — forced to retreat and withdraw back into the shadows.   It was amazing, really. In just a few hours, Taehyung became infamous and now everyone wants a piece of him. Too bad you come with him like a buy one, get one free package.   //   The four glass walls trapped you, but not necessarily suffocating your spirit with its transparent surfaces. Instead, it makes you feel vulnerable, like the police or mafia could catch you here.   It was a bit better when Taehyung’s body covered one side of the phone booth, his back towards you as he’s on the lookout. You had conjured a face mask and a dark hoodie for him to cover himself up with, sunglasses as well and you wonder if it just makes him more suspicious.   Thoughts pushed aside, you gain the courage to pick up the handle, slide the coins in and dial the memorized number. It was morning now with people beginning to stir and you know the person on the other line was awake too at this time. But considering the number would appear as unknown on her phone, it’s a streak of luck when the dial tone stops and it’s actually picked up.   “Yeah hello?”   “Hello?”   “Who is this?”   “It’s Y/N….”   It takes one split of a second. Your boss’ chirping morphs into rage, dropping into a deep pitch and growly like a monster. “What are you doing calling me on this number?! I texted you last night several times! Do you think you’re going on vacation, Y/N?! I expected better from you! What time is it over there?! Aren’t you supposed to go to the meeting?!”   Shrill screams ring into your eardrums and you have to pull the handset away from your ear for a moment. This had to be considered as some kind of verbal abuse. “Do you know how important this investor could be to my business?!”   “A-a-about that…”   “What?! Speak up!”   “I...I might have to reschedule,” you murmur, “I...I’m sorry. I don’t think I can meet him today.”   “Are you kidding me?! Y/N!” She’s yelling at the top of her lungs. “What the hell are you doing over there?! Why are you rescheduling?!”   You don’t realize you’re crying until your cheeks feel wet and you wipe your eyes quickly with the sleeve of your sweater. “I’m sorry.” You bow from your waist despite her not being able to see you. It’s instinctual as if you’re part of Pavlov’s Dogs, and she’s trained you to be this way. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”   “I don’t need your apology! I need you to meet him! How will my candles sell now?! Will you buy them?!”   Suddenly, there’s knocking on the glass. You lift your head to find Taehyung worries, his brows knitted together tightly. He mouths ‘are you okay?’ and you nod, wiping your eyes.   “I’m sorry.” Truth be told, you weren’t okay. Not in the least bit. You were on the verge of being fired.   The phone call eventually ends when you run out of coins and you’re no longer able to hear her even when she’s still screaming at you and making you face her wrath and fury. You don’t care about your job or about candles. But you don’t enjoy being humiliated by anyone and at the end of the day, it’s your means of survival. Without your shitty job, you don’t have anything and that’s the sad part.   There’s silence as you sit on the bench, facing the Pearl River Delta and South China Sea. From the distance, you can see the docks of Macau and the shadows of the nearby islands. It’s serene and you feel yourself relaxing, giving up. They could come take you now — arrest Taehyung for money laundering and take you to investigation. He’d be imprisoned and they might take you in for experimentation. Or better yet, the Macau mafia could take you first, kill you and Taehyung, and then steal the money….   This is not what Cinderella was like.   You much prefer the fairytale version that you detested for so long.   “What are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the quiet and turning your head to his handsome profile. Taehyung is looking out at the horizon, oddly calm too. No one was freaking out anymore.   “How I don’t want you to get caught up in all of this.”   Even when he’s in this predicament, he’s not thinking about himself — Taehyung’s thinking about you. You admire his selflessness and your hand reaches out, pinky first before your palm slides on top of his. Taehyung gets used to your touch before flipping his hand over and lacing your fingers together. It was comforting to hold his hand like this.   Your gaze softens on his profile and he turns, locking his eyes with yours. “I want to find who I’m looking for.”   “Right now?”    He nods. “If I can get my happy ending, you can escape from all this. You can be free from me.”   “You can’t get your happy ending if you’re being chased by the mafia or by the police, Taehyung.”   He squeezes your palm. “I want to try. I don’t want you to be stuck to me.”   “I can leave, Taehyung,” you tell him in a gentle murmur, “I could leave right now. I’m not stuck to you. I’m choosing to be here.”   “Yeah, but you have an obligation to be with me at the end of the day or at least fulfill my wishes.” The corner of his mouth lifts with a sad smile. “I don’t want you to have to feel that way.”   “I don’t—”    “Let me go find her.”   “Is that what you want?” you question him, searching his expression. “Forget about me for a moment. Think about yourself…”   “I am,” he assures and helps you stand up.   You’re uncertain — you don’t even know what a happy ending means.   //   It’s a slip of paper with an address messily scribbled on it, the blue ink slightly bleeding on the crumpled paper. Taehyung tells you when he came here, he had an old picture of her and asked around the streets of Macau like she was a missing person. He followed faint trails here and there, going on a wild goose chase until someone told him they had seen her before and wrote down where.   And here you were with him — on some dingy street, standing in front of a butcher’s shop.   “She’s supposed to be here?” You stare at the shop, reading the name of it written in bold red.   “Maybe. An old lady at a fish market saw her working here before.” Taehyung glances at you for an extended time and you turn your head, blinking at him.    “Are we going in?”   “Y-yeah….right…” He pulls the door open, letting you in first. The butcher owner is grinning, asking if you two want to buy some meat and what kind, but Taehyung greets him and then slides the picture over to him, explains why he’s here. “Have you seen her?”   “Bae Jenny? Yes. She lives across the street!” The older man points out the window. “Right there.”   You’re surprised. Taehyung seems even more shocked. Her location is finally pinpointed into a definite place, so close. It occurs to you all this trouble so far could’ve been avoided. Heck, Taehyung probably would’ve found her two days ago if you never ran into him….   The man frowns. “But who are you?”   “I...I’m an old friend of her’s.”   He nods in understanding. “She should be home at the moment. I believe it’s her day off of work.”   The bell chimes as you two exit the shop. It’s quiet. Taehyung is contemplative and you’re on autopilot while you cross the street safely, taking the stairs outside the run-down building. You shuffle to the open apartment complex, stopping right in front of the door.   “We’re lucky, huh?”   “I guess.”   You brace yourself with a deep breath, but when Taehyung doesn’t move, you frown. “Well, aren’t you going to knock?”   “Y/N. I need to tell you something.” He turns to face you, swallowing hard like he has something important to say and it’s simply caught in his throat and he’s not used to this kind of thing. “This happy ending that you’re trying to achieve for me. I...I don’t need this. What I want is—”   The door swings open. There’s a girl holding her trash bag. She freezes.   “Taehyung?!”   His eyes are wide, rounded with horror. “Jenny?”   The female is short and petite with long, black hair. She is a doll with delicate features and you wonder if she always looks this amazing at home — dressed like she’s going out, eyeliner and pink lipstick. She is gorgeous and breathtaking. This is what you envisioned your Cinderella to look like.   “What in the ever living fuck.” She glances at you and glances back at him. “What the hell are you doing here?”   He waves meekly. “H-Hi.”   Eventually, the two of you are invited into her cozy home. It’s small, but comfortable. Though you can’t get settled down, feeling too awkward as the third wheel. With a harsh nudge from you, the suffocating silence is interrupted by Taehyung who starts off with, “It’s good to see you.”   “Yeah? Can’t relate. How did you find me in the first place? Last I checked, I ghosted you on everything and I haven’t posted about my whereabouts in a long time.”   “I...I’ve been looking for you. I asked around for a long time.”   “Why?” Her brows raise, genuinely confused and unable to rationalize it.   “I...I’m in love with you…?” The last syllable of Taehyung’s weak declaration has its pitch increasing like he’s unsure of himself and questioning it too. It sounds weird and you don’t know what his issue is. Wasn’t this what he wanted?   Jenny is unimpressed and also unfazed. “Are you serious?”   “I...guess.”   “You know we were together for less than five months?”   “Yeah.”   “You didn’t even consider it official.”   “I..know…”   “And that was four years ago.”   “Uh-huh.”   “You cheated on me, remember?” Jenny looks like she’s five seconds away from slapping him or splashing him with her glass of water and when she puts it like that, your initial disbelief with Taehyung returns. He nods and you realize how ridiculous this all is. It’s obvious — he doesn’t love her. Or whatever he thinks, whatever he feels, it isn’t love.   Jenny sighs tiredly, aged an additional fifty years with him in front of her. “You’re an idiot. An absolute idiot, Taehyung. For coming here. For saying that. I don’t love you. Never had. Never will. We didn’t even have anything special. It was a basic relationship.”   He nods again, unable to say anything.   The girl regards him with narrowed eyes. “If you think it was anything great, then frankly, you’re just idealizing our relationship and romanticizing it after it’s over because you live a fucking sad life. You’re projecting your ideals onto us, onto me, because you’re lonely.”   “That’s….harsh.”   But Taehyung is not surprised. He’s rather unaffected, letting the insults roll off his shoulders, fully aware and even embracing that he is indeed an air-headed dumbass.    “Well, it’s true.” Jenny sets her cup down and leans back in her seat, crossing her arms. “You’re lonely. Always have been. You just never wanted to admit it, so you found all these girls to try to temporarily fix your problems. And once I realized your issues, I dropped you. I’d understand if you came for me to look for closure, but to announce you love me.” She scoffs and rolls her eyes to the back of her skull. “Are you kidding me?”   “Sorry.” He’s fiddling with his fingers and scratching the back of his neck. Taehyung came all this way. This was most definitely not the outcome you were expecting. You thought she’d leap into his arms, that they’d go prancing into the fields together and get married. But you suppose romance never worked like that in real life.   It’s not your place to say anything either.   “I’m sorry for you too.” She sighs again. “Honestly, I couldn’t love you even if I wanted to, Taehyung. I like girls.”   He quirks his head to the side, mildly interested at the new development. “You like girls?”    “Yeah. I mean guys are fine too, but I prefer girls. I can...tolerate them better.” Jenny steals a glance at you, the corner of her mouth curling. “This one’s a cute one.”   “Thanks..?” You’re sheepish, having stayed quiet and out of the conversation. But all the while, she’s noticed you and read your expression like it’s an open book.   “Is that all?” Jenny looks back at Taehyung. “I gotta get ready and leave soon. I got a hot date scheduled and frankly, I think this conversation is over..”   “Yeah, we’ll get going.” He stands up, waltzing outside without begging to stay or pleading with her to be heard. He acts nothing like a person who wants to redeem himself in front of the woman he supposedly loves.    Jenny leans against her door frame. “Hey, Taehyung. Wait.” He hums, spinning on his heel and she smiles. Between the two of them, there aren't any harsh feelings or emotions of resentment left. You can see it on her face that she’s mostly apathetic about his existence and only slightly annoyed by his antics. “If you ever wanna stop being dumb and go clubbing with an old friend some time, call me up. I know a few places.”   He smiles, a puff of air coming from his nose, having expected nothing less. “Okay.”   “And bring this one too.” Jenny smiles at you. “I haven’t seen someone tolerate your bullshit in a long time and she’s a pretty one.”   “Y-yeah.”   The two of you walk without saying anything for an entire block. You’re reeling, not sure what just happened. But Taehyung isn’t heartbroken at all or as devastated as you thought he’d be. He seems to only be embarrassed for the rejection and having his issues said aloud, all the things that haunted his mind coming to confront him.   “So...that was that...are you hungry? I’m sort of. Maybe we should go get some waffles.” The blonde male turns his head and then freezes up. You’re crying silently, tears shedding down your cheeks as if you just splashed your face with water. “Y/N?”   “Fuck, what are we supposed to do now?!” You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. You’ve lost it. Everything was crumbling down onto your shoulders, the weight of what you’ve done heavy. “She was supposed to take you back! But she insulted you and you didn’t even say anything back!”   “Well, what she said was true—”   “No! You’re not that big of a dumbass.”   A smile pulls on his lips, endeared and he wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”   “I failed.”   “You didn’t.”   “I did. I’m supposed to give you a happy ending, but I can’t even do such a simple thing that the rest of my family accomplished! I don’t even know what a happy ending means! What does it mean, Taehyung? What does it mean?! Things don’t end until we die! Life always continues and there will always be issues. How can you have a happy ending? How can you be happy forever?! Do you even want that?!”   “No. I don’t want a happy ending. You’re right.” Taehyung composes you, calming your turmoil and he grins. “I want adventure and I’m having that with you right now. My precious fairy that makes all my wishes come true.”   You’re catching your breath. “This is what you want?”   “Well, maybe not being chased by the police or by the mob, but being with you. It’s fun, right?”   “Fun?!”   “It’s fun,” he assures and his arm slinks off of you. Instead, Taehyung reaches down to hold your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “And it’ll be better when things are okay again. Right now, I can think of one or two ways to make things better...and to solve our little issue. Do you trust me?”    There’s a pause. You sigh and nod once. “I do.”   As distressed as you may be, lying isn’t easy — you’re relieved that Taehyung’s with you.   //   Yoongi follows closely and swiftly, yet discreetly as he remains in the shadows. He’s been tailing the two of you since he parted ways hours ago and it was curious. So many things he was befuddled about despite being so well-informed about this world. You spoke to someone at a telephone booth, to who Yoongi has no idea. But Taehyung watched your back — that means you had an important part to play in all this, important enough that the man has to protect you.   Then the pair of you also sat on a bench for an extended period of time. Perhaps waiting for someone else or maybe signaling to another person nearby that things were progressing. It’s the most mundane activities that often signify the most.    Yoongi followed you to a butcher’s shop, an innocent little place that has potential of being more, perhaps where the money was supposed to be laundered. And then you went to see someone, a woman who quickly shut the door after you entered.   The gangster is intrigued, that much is clear. He doesn’t know what’s going on and the longer he follows after the both of you, the more he’s learning your techniques of getting around Macau. Though it still struck Yoongi as odd as to why this Kim Tae denied coming from Taiwan, refuting that he had any part of the illegal world, of having any affiliation with a family or empire. Perhaps he wanted to remain discreet, to conduct his business without arousing any attention.   Whatever the case may be, he was a man with a talent in lying.   Yoongi almost believed you and him were innocent for a moment.   But what truly provokes his curiosity is when you disappear into an alley and you both come back with a white envelope and purposely let it fall to the ground, walking away without looking back.   Yoongi picks it up after a minute and he isn’t disappointed by what he finds.   “What is this?”   Jungkook’s own question is answered as he opens the envelope and finds a cheque of exactly one hundred million dollars. He glances up at his right-hand man and finds another slip of paper with an address and time written on it.   “I’ve been following them.”   “And?”   “He denied having any affiliations with anyone and from being from Taiwan. I believe he’s lying since he doesn’t want to draw attention from anyone. He seemed to want nothing to do with us. I don’t believe he’s a threat.”   Jungkook nods, taking it all in and Yoongi continues divulging the information he’s collected, “I think he’s targeting police and trying to taunt them more than anything. Though I’m not sure why. I don’t know the specifics of the business they’re conducting, but they went to various locations around Macau while evading the police.”   “He must have some kind of vengeance against the department if he’s willing to go out personally. I wonder if he works for someone….” The leader’s voice draws on and he ends it in a thoughtful hum. “And you were telling me about a girl?”   “Yes. He protects her. I have reason to believe she may even be the mastermind behind these plans.”   Jungkook rolls his tongue inside his cheek, looking at the cheque and the amount of zeros behind the number one. “This money is a sign of an alliance.” It’s a truce, perhaps a request to join hands and destroy the police department once and for all. While the intentions are still unclear to Jungkook, he knows what to do. “Launder this money properly. I’m going to meet this Kim Tae myself.”   He lowers his head and takes the cheque. “Understood.”    Jungkook fixes his suit jacket, tugging on the sleeves as he considers how respectable a character Taehyung is. He has to see this man for himself.   And in the meanwhile….   The department floor comes alive. The ceiling fan whirrs in rhythm with the coffee machine. Phone calls are ringing and officers greet each other as they pass. In the midst of the usual chaos, Namjoon leans back in his swivel chair, feet propped up on his desk and he sips on his caffeine drink. His feet ache, eyes weary, counting the hours since he’s been awake. But as exhausted as he is, he continues to flip through the file and re-reads the profile of the suspects.   He’s brought back to his senses when his partner plops something down. “Hoseok wanted you to see this.”   Namjoon takes it and sits up, looking through the crisp printed pages. It’s information on the nightclub they've been keeping an eye on and that has suspicions of being linked to the Jeon family. The profits aren’t out of the ordinary but for today’s circumstances, it is.   Seokjin adds, “All the money in Kim Taehyung’s account is gone.”   “A hundred million?! Are they tracing it?”   “They don’t know where it went, but we might be getting a sniff of it soon.”   Namjoon scoffs. “I knew it had something to do with Jeon Jungkook.”   “I’m starting to think Kim Taehyung is a red herring.” He meets his partner’s eyes. “A pawn in the grand scheme of things.”   He nods. “Something Jeon threw out to distract us, huh? He must know we’re closing in on them.”   “It doesn’t make sense otherwise. I keep looking into Taehyung and he’s a nobody.”   “They must’ve had internal issues and transferred the money to him and used him to throw us off his scent. Make it so damn obvious by going to the Venetian and having shopping sprees so we can’t ignore him.” Namjoon slams his fist against the desk. “That damn Jeon. We won’t be tricked!”   It’s not worth going after Taehyung — one shouldn’t capture the pawn when they could capture the king.   Yet, it still makes the detectives frustrated. They detect Jungkook’s play, but an entire night and day has been wasted going on a wild goose chase after someone who’s essentially a smoke screen. While they’re thankful they realized this before wasting any more time or investing weeks into Taehyung, they don’t know what to do anymore.   That is until Jung Hoseok comes running towards them. “We just got an anonymous tip.”   //   Jeon Jungkook stands at the docks. His hands are dug within his dress pants pockets and he faces the sea, allowing the cool mist to carve through his hair and recall simpler days when he was just a child innocent of the world he belonged to. His childhood memories only ever consist of his late mother and the nannies, never of his frightening father, a father who seemed absent from all things until he was fourteen and he groomed Jungkook to become what he is today.   As he waits patiently for the infamous man he’s only heard about, he relishes in all these thoughts of a time that was simpler. His men have circled the area, securing it from anything suspicious and Yoongi is standing by, perhaps more alert than Jungkook is.   Suddenly, a black sleek car pulls up. Its wheels dig into the sand and asphalt from the road, stopping harshly without a lurch forward. The windows are tinted and Jungkook raises his left hand up, stopping Yoongi from walking over. Jungkook allows this Kim Tae to approach him first and he listens to the noise of both sides of the door opening.   Then immediately, without time to breathe the ocean’s scent, the two spin around to Jungkook.   Their pistols are pointed right at him.   “Get down on the ground!” Namjoon is shouting, deep within his stomach. “Hands in the air where we can see them!”   “Hands in the air!” Seokjin screams over top of his partner. “Do not reach for anything!”   Yet with one flick of Yoongi’s wrist, his handgun from his back pocket comes to point at the two officers. He cocks the gun back, preparing to fire if need be, but no one shoots.   “You’re surrounded, Jeon Jungkook! Give up! You have nowhere to go!”   The mafia leader’s hands lift in the air lazily, right next to his head. He spins slowly around on his heel to face the undercover officers and the corner of his lip curls. “Really now?”   “The roads are barricaded off. Your men have been identified and are surrounded. We have our officers all over the docks.” Namjoon remains calm and composed. There wasn’t a single fisherman on the docks, all undercover police officers. “It’s over.”   This was the moment they had been working so hard for. The evidence they had compiled are simply missing a few puzzle pieces. If they get Jeon Jungkook and strike a deal with him, they could shut down a chain of underground businesses and corrupt politicians. Everything could come crumbling down.    The man’s brow cocks. “What are you arresting me for?”   “On suspicion of being involved in solicitation, extortion, and embezzlement.”   “And where’s the evidence?” he mocks them, singsonging the question. “None of it has my name on it. None of it connects to me.”   Seokjin smiles. “Yeah? Well, you’re under arrest for money laundering. The evidence is in the hundred million dollars!”   The police department received a tip, a deep voice that mumbled Jungkook’s name, a time and a location. They were hung up on, but tracing the call, it came from a phone booth. The CCTV footage showed a person in a dark sweater, face indistinguishable, more of a shadow than a human. Perhaps it was Taehyung betraying his mafia family, but that wasn’t important — the information was enough to devise a plan. It was the quickest and most hasty thing they’ve come up with in this investigation, but it worked.    They have Jeon Jungkook cornered.   As the muzzle of the gun is pointed at Jungkook, the tunnel of the barrel that seems endless, a chilling chuckle emits from the man’s throat. He knocks his head back and laughs, scaring the two officers. At the same time, more police cars pull up, siren deafening. They truly have him surrounded…   It hits Jungkook like a freight train — it was a trap.   This is the cost of wondering about Kim Tae from Taiwan. This was the repercussions of digging into his business in Macau, meddling in his work. Jungkook doesn’t know if he respects this Kim Tae or finds him truly fearsome.   “Curiosity kills the cat, doesn’t it?” His cold chuckles end and he shakes his head in regret, murmuring, “I should’ve never poked the bear with a stick.”   They’re confused, but there’s no time to react, much less to make sense of his words or respond. In a blink, Jungkook’s smirking again and with the muscle-memory that his father hammered into his skull, he reaches into his inner blazer pocket and has his own handgun.   His smirk morphs into an eerie grin and like a brat, he says, “You’ll have to take me dead.”   Someone shoots first. No one knows who or from what side, but then bullets begin spraying into the air. They take cover, glass of cars shattering, screams of ‘get down!’. It’s chaos and Jungkook’s men run over, protecting their boss with their own bodies, a full shootout erupting.   “This is your anchor Park Jimin, here to deliver some breaking news. Several miles south of Macau Port, several male suspects have opened fire against policemen. As you can see, shots are being fired as we speak—”   You’re watching the news with Taehyung through the window of a store, standing shoulder to shoulder on the street. Your jaw has dropped, mouth full of cotton and Taehyung’s eyes glimmering in equal amazement. It’s something out of a movie and you’re not sure you can believe this is actually happening — but considering you’re a fairy godmother, you guess anything’s possible.    “Do you think this was our doing?” you mumble out the corner of your mouth.   Taehyung grins. “Let’s just say it is. That would make one hell of a story.”   “Yeah, a story I don't think we’ll ever be able to tell anyone.” You look away from the screen towards him, blinking at how blazing he is and how the sun has kissed his skin, making him glow. “I think you might be a goddamn genius, Taehyung.”   “I know.” His grin widens and the sheer size of it might break his face. He looks so happy with your praise and you don’t care that you’re feeding his ego. “You’re only starting to realize?”   You scoff. “I knew you weren’t a complete idiot.”   “Psh. Your expectations for me are too low. I’m going to have to keep trying to impress you, aren’t I?”   “If you want to impress me, you’re going to have to step your game up, Kim.”   “Will do.” His arm slings around your shoulder as you both resume walking down the street.    The money was gone. None of you had it anymore so that problem was solved. The police should be off your tail and as for the mob...you hope they’re too scared of Taehyung to do anything. But you don’t know for sure. Regardless, the two of you will have to leave Macau as soon as possible for the sake of safety.   “What are your plans now?”   You hum, haven’t had time to think about it. “Probably go back home. Catch up on some sleep on the plane considering I’ve been awake for forty-eight hours now...and then, I’ll go crawling back to my job and apologize to my boss again. Assuming I haven’t gotten fired yet.”   “Why would you go back there? You hate it.”   “Where am I supposed to get money to live?”   “I still have the money that I legitimately won from the casino…”   “That’s yours.” You tease, “And you should keep it — it’s not like you have a job.”   He gasps in mock offense, hand over his heart. “I’ll have you know, I make a decent living selling my picture and drawing people on the street.” Taehyung pulls you closer to him, looking down at you. It’s too intimate and to outsiders, the pair of you appear more like a couple than friends. But there’s no time to linger in the way your heart is thundering in your chest when his smile falls and he becomes genuine.   “I’m serious. You shouldn’t go back to that place if it makes you so unhappy. You should….come with me instead.”   “Come with you? Where?”   “I still have my plane tickets. The ones you gave me,” he reminds you and points to the old bag slung across his abdomen. The two of you had ran to get your belongings in the hotel room and got out as quickly as possible. Everything you need is with you and when he puts it like that, he’s technically right. You could go anywhere in the world.   “I asked you for two not because I wanted to go back for a second time, but because I want you to come with me,” he admits as his cheeks begin to deepen in hue, embarrassed that he had thought about this before and many times at that. “I was even happier when you said you wanted to travel too and...I made a promise, right? I...I just want to keep it.”   You’re speechless. “Taehyung…”   “I have to leave anyways. I want to leave with you.” He stops walking and you halt with him. Taehyung is a scrambling, stuttering, nervous mess and you eat it all up. “I know it’s a lot to ask. You technically met me yesterday and now I’m asking you to travel the world with me and we don’t know each other that well—”   “I think we’ve gotten to know each other a lot in these past two days,” you refute. You can’t think of anyone else that’s been chased down by the mob and police with you. The experience definitely drove you closer together and you’re full-aware of his issues as he is aware of yours. Everything is out in the open. There’s nothing to hide and nothing you want to keep hidden from him.   Taehyung laughs and you add, “Too much actually.”   “Will you still come see the world with me?”   You never thought there would be a day where someone would ask you such a thing. It’s mind boggling to consider that you could’ve been with anyone. Anyone in this world that could’ve had unlimited wishes, that would’ve used you until the last moment, that would throw you away afterwards. But it was Taehyung of all people. You’re the one who’s lucky.    And you’re so glad that he’s your Cinderella.   “It would be my honour as your fairy godmother,” you mean it. Nothing excites you more. As long as you’re not chased by the police or the mob, you’re happy to go anywhere with him.   Taehyung’s smile almost makes his cheeks burst and he nods. “But before we go, there’s something I want to do.”   “You know we can’t stay here for long, right?”   “Yeah, but this will only take a second.” Taehyung’s body is facing you and his arm extends, palm opening and pointing towards the sky. You glance up at his face, trying to decipher his blank features, not knowing what he wants or if he wants you to hold his hand again. But what he says is not what you expect. “Give me your wand.”   You trust him enough at this point to hand it over. “You know you can’t do anything with it, right? I’m the only one that can use it.”   “Yeah, I know.” He holds the silver stick. It shimmers and shines against the light, glimmering as if sparkles are embedded into the surface. Taehyung grips your wand with both hands.   “What are you— Taehyung! No! You can’t break it! I tried—”   But the stick bends. And then suddenly it…   Snap.   Much to your horror, he announces it blankly, “I just broke it.”    “What the fuck?!” Your eyes are wide and your hands are curled around his wrist, trying to see the damage done. It’s snapped in half. And you can’t wrap your brain around it. It never even so much budged in your hands. It was concrete, unbending, unyielding. Yet, he snapped it as if it was an uncooked noodle. “How?!”   “I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Wasn’t hard. Maybe I got the power to do it cause I’m Cinderella.” His brows playfully wiggle, joking around, but you aren’t amused. You’re shocked.   “Why?”   “I don’t want you to feel like you’re my servant. I don’t want you to feel obligated towards me.” A shy smile spreads into his face and he lowers his arms, your grip on him loosened. “Happy ending? I’m already happy with you…”   You’re emotional, stunned to silence. But the words that croak out of your lips first is— “Wh-why are you so cheesy?”   His shy smile becomes another enormous grin. “You’re my fairy either way. I don’t need wishes.”   You let out a breathless scoff, walking away from him and trying to ignore the way a lump has formed in your throat, how your chest feels light and fluffy. He quickly catches up to your pace, synchronizing his steps with yours and he steals glances of your profile like he can’t get enough of you. “You’re paying for our taxi ride to the airport, right? Where are we going first?”   “Mumbai or Italy?” He laughs. “Your choice.”   He throws the wand into the nearby trash can, chucking it away and neither of you look back as you continue on your way down the street of Macau.   You’re still not sure what a happy ending entails, but you wonder if this is it — this contentment and bliss of being Taehyung’s fairy and princess.

[arofili]

rare pairs exchange 2020 letter :)

Hello lovely creator, thanks for writing for me in the Rare Pairs Exchange!! I’m very excited and grateful for whatever you write me :) Here are my thoughts on the various Silm ships I requested!!

Elemmírë/Findis: Vanyarin lesbians!! I see Elemmírë as a woman (specifically a trans woman, though if you don’t want to get into the details of her gender that’s fine), and a major reason in why Findis stuck around in Aman instead of leaving with her siblings. I like the theory that Glorfindel is Findis’ son, which would make Elemmírë his other mother. But if you’d rather depict them as not together at the time of the Darkening, that would be fine too; maybe Elemmírë is upset at the thought of Findis leaving but Findis stays because she’s realized she’s in love with Elemmírë, or something like that. Elemmírë wrote a song about the Darkening, so I think focusing on that time of fear and uncertainty would be very interesting. I would like a happy ending with these two, though.

Celegorm/Dior: Look, they’re both called “the Fair,” and Celegorm was into Dior’s mom. I’d love an exploration of a fucked-up dynamic between them. I’d prefer if they know who each other are, so not identity porn. Maybe Celegorm is trying to seduce Dior into giving him the Silmaril, or Dior is trying to seduce Celegorm into not attacking Doriath, or they’re both trying to get revenge on each other for what happened surrounding Lúthien, or whatever. Rivalry and hatefucking would be great. No non-con, please, not even in reference to the Celegorm and Lúthien situation, but dub-con would be delicious. “Mutually sensual murder” is about the happiest ending I can think of for these two so feel free to make it dark!

Ok here are my Finrod ships. I love Finrod as completely unashamed of his sexuality and sleeping with whoever he wants...and as a result while I’d prefer no PWP for any other ships, if Finrod’s involved, go for it! It’s what he would want! Though if you want to include some plot I would be delighted :)

Finrod/Turgon: This is my rarepair to end all rarepairs tbh. I honestly don’t know why these two are not shipped more! I am desperate for any and all content with them, I am not picky at all, I just love them. Fun times in Aman before things get dark and serious would be lovely, I think in that context their relationship would be more casual (or at least they’re trying to make it casual and that leads to hurt feelings). I’d rather not focus on their relationships with their canon love interests, mostly because I’m not a fan of stories about jealousy (also because I see both Finrod and Amarië as gay and together mostly out for convenience’s sake), but I do ship Elenwë/Amarië so those two having some sort of arrangement with Finrod and Turgon could be fun. But feel free to just ignore any of that and depict Finrod and Turgon together without their respective ladies! If you go into Beleriand times, I like: Turgon grieving Elenwë and finding solace with Finrod; whatever went down that night by the river they never wanted to talk about again; helping each other build their hidden kingdoms; Finrod sneaking into Gondolin maybe??; repressed Turgon being angsty about discovering his bisexuality and Finrod either helping him or making things more complicated; Finrod missing Turgon and trying to distract himself in Nargothrond (maybe in combination with another Finrod ship I put down?). A Beleriand-focused story that ends sadly would be fine, I do love some First Age angst. Post-reembodiment scenarios would also be great. I think that whatever the situation between Amarië and Finrod was, she’s moved on from him by the time he’s reborn; maybe she’s with Elenwë now, which would make Turgon’s life a bit easier. Or maybe Turgon can make room for both Elenwë and Finrod. If you go this route I’d prefer a happy ending. Or maybe you want to do an AU with them! Supernatural creatures? Some other fantasy setting? A space opera? Honestly the only AU I wouldn’t be interested in is a modern AU, I’m very picky with my Silm Modern AUs. Honestly like I said earlier, I would love ANY content with Finrod and Turgon, you’d make me very happy if you depicted them together!! Feel free to ignore any of the stuff I said if you’ve got a better idea!!

Celegorm/Finrod/Curufin: The Nargothrond Disaster Trio. Curufin and his pet blonds. Finrod and his pet Fëanorians. Whatever you’d like to call them, I can’t get enough of these three! I see their relationship as full of politics all the way around: Curufin is very upfront about it, Finrod tries to deny it, Celegorm sees it as secondary to the actual fun but still there. Maybe C&C think they’re seducing and manipulating Finrod, but Finrod thinks he’s seducing and manipulating C&C... Fics where Finrod gets fucked by both of them at the same time are *chef’s kiss* very good. I love short Curufin / tall Celegorm / average height Finrod. Curufin controlling the situation and then accidentally letting himself go is very fun. My favorite versions of this ship have Celegorm and Curufin using Finrod as a buffer between them, but if you wanted to include some hints of Celegorm/Curufin that would be okay, just nothing too explicit. I mean, be as explicit as you’d like where Finrod’s involved, but keep the sibling incest to a minimum, if that makes sense.

These next few fall into the category of “I have so many Maedhros ships but I also love Russingon most of all, why not ship BOTH of them with someone else?” (Also just...putting this out there...there aren’t enough fics that take advantage of Maedhros’ stump...)

Fingon/Maedhros/Finrod: Look, Maedhros and Fingon are ridiculously in love, and Finrod is a hoe, and I can’t believe there wasn’t at least one time they had a threesome. Again, Finrod getting fucked by both of them at once would be excellent. Finrod is canonically friendly with the Fëanorians in Beleriand and goes hunting with Maglor and Maedhros, maybe this is a time where it’s Fingon instead of Maglor and they fuck in the woods, or Maedhros and Fingon visit Nargothrond, or Maedhros and Finrod visit Barad Eithel, or Fingon and Finrod visit Himring. Is this a planned encounter? Something spontaneous? Is Finrod seducing them both, or are they inviting him in? Did Maedhros and Finrod have a fling in Valinor, or did Finrod and Fingon find comfort together on the Ice, or both? I’d love to see where you take this!

Fingon/Maedhros/Mairon: Okay I love how many possibilities there are for this ship. I’d like it to be mostly consensual - feel free to redeem Mairon, make Melkor irredeemable, etc, whatever you need to do to get there. Does Mairon have a soft spot for Maedhros as a prisoner in Angband, and he’s relieved/helpful when Fingon comes to rescue him? Is it an AU where Fingon gets captured trying rescue Maedhros and Mairon helps them break out? Or an AU where Fingon is imprisoned after the Nírnaeth instead of killed, and Maedhros manipulates Mairon into helping him rescue Fingon? I would prefer not to have a dark!Maedhros in this, but maybe he pretends to break under torture and he gets “rewarded” with a lordship in Angband and he and Mairon scheme to overthrow Morgoth. Basically, Maedhros and Mairon have something weird and fucked up going on but Maedhros is always going to prioritize Fingon, and Mairon and Fingon have to deal with both of them being involved with Maedhros. Does Mairon break with Melkor, or does he stick with his abusive master/lover til the end? Is he torn between what he “knows” is right and what his nature as a Maia servant to a Vala demands of him? There are sooo many ways to take this and I’d love to see one or more of them explored!

Fingon/Maedhros/Azaghâl: I’m a sucker for elf/dwarf ships, and there aren’t very many in the First Age! I’d love to see Maedhros dealing with whatever’s going on with him and Azaghâl while at the same time grappling with what that means for his preexisting relationship with Fingon. Maybe Fingon is kind of jealous until he meets Azaghâl and starts to like him too, or maybe he’s supportive of Maedhros exploring this relationship because he knows that Azaghâl is mortal and Mae will always come home to him at the end. I think Fingon getting in on the action, perhaps to his surprise, would be very fun! Also: Azaghâl gave the Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin to Maedhros, who gave it to Fingon, who gave it to Hador...it’s like the Boyfriend-hood of the Traveling Helmet. If that was involved in the story I would be very amused! I’ve seen some versions where Azaghâl is a female dwarf, which is interesting, but my Maedhros is gay so I’d rather not have that here. Unless you want to make Maedhros and Fingon both women, too, in which case go for it!

Maedhros/Turgon: Okay in my head Turgon hates the Fëanorians and blames them for his wife’s death and all the awful things that have happened to him and his family, and since Fëanor himself is dead he shifts all that blame onto Maedhros (and there’s the added resentment that Maedhros is fucking Turgon’s brother). Of course he also blames himself but he doesn’t want to admit that. Maedhros on the other hand (which he only has one of) doesn’t like Turgon but he also blames himself for a lot of the bad things that have happened and basically this all comes to a head after Fingon’s death where they’re both grieving and angry with each other and themselves. Hatefucking!! Fealty - Mae already had a fealty kink from Fingon’s time as king, and now he’s swearing loyalty to Turgon as the new High King... Maybe this is the immediate aftermath of the Nírnaeth and everything is super raw, or maybe it’s some sort of AU where Turgon gets off his ass and tries to unite the Noldor against Morgoth when Ulmo warns him about Gondolin’s fall and he has to confront his least favorite half-cousin. Comparisons between Fingon and Turgon’s physical appearances would be great, Maedhros almost letting himself forget that Fingon is dead for maximum angst, but then Fingon was short and Turgon is almost as tall as Mae is so the illusion is shattered and also Turgon just REALLY hates that Maedhros was genuinely in love with his brother because it would be easier to despise Mae if that was all manipulation. Mae not taking care of himself and purposefully pissing Turgon off and letting himself be manhandled. Turgon who hates how much this is all turning him on. Just a lot of resentment and angst!!

Ok now we get to the Túrin ships, prepare for this disaster human being even MORE of a disaster!

Andróg/Beleg/Túrin: I love Beleg/Túrin (don’t we all?) and throwing Andróg into the mix is very interesting to me! Were Túrin and Andróg messing around before Beleg showed up again? Andróg is canonically jealous of Beleg’s relationship with Túrin, and mistreats him...but Beleg heals his wounds anyway. Enemies to lovers would be very fun here, with tension born of both rivalry and attraction. Is Túrin trying to nudge his two lovers together? Is he trying to be with both of them separately but they make things difficult? Does Beleg try to save Andróg when Amon Rûdh falls? Really anything with these three during the time they’re together in canon would be excellent.

Finduilas/Gwindor/Túrin: I JUST THINK THEY COULD HAVE MADE IT WORK, YOU KNOW? There’s some juicy Túrin/Gwindor lines in COH, Túrin has a thing for blonds so I can see him developing feelings for Finduilas even if he didn’t necessarily have them in canon, Gwindor and Finduilas’ doomed romance just breaks me and I want to FIX it!! If they had been better at communicating, maybe...idk, this could be a fix it or not, but they’re all drama queens and they’re all in love with each other and what if Túrin had managed to save Gwindor and Finduilas and they all went to Brethil together, or something?? Who knows I just need them all together!

Maeglin/Túrin: I feel like I’m the only person sailing this ship but I will go down with it. So WHAT that they never met in canon?? They have MATCHING SWORDS and they’re both doomed by family curses and I think it would be incredibly sexy of Túrin to go to Gondolin. Or maybe Maeglin and Aredhel escaped to Nargothrond (perhaps with Celegorm and Curufin?) and that’s where they meet? What if their curses cancel each other out and they help each other avoid their dooms! What if Maeglin tries to duel Túrin for the right to wield Anglachel! What if Túrin also has a thing for Idril (again...he’s got a thing for blonds, especially blond elves) and they bond over being jealous of Tuor and then fall in love! What if they refuse to acknowledge the insane amount of sexual tension between them until some incredibly inopportune moment like Idril and Tuor’s wedding! So many possibilities and I just adore the concept of this ship!!

Celebrimbor/Maeglin/Túrin: I like to call this ship “Doomed Disaster Boyfriends.” I think this works best in that Maeglin in Nargothrond AU; Celegorm and Curufin have been exiled by Celebrimbor and Maeglin and Aredhel stayed behind in Nargothrond when they left, or maybe Aredhel went with them but Maeglin didn’t, or maybe Aredhel fought in the Nírnaeth and didn’t make it through the battle or something. Although if you wanted to take the Gondolin route instead, where Tyelpë makes his way to Gondolin after the Nírnaeth and Túrin joins up with Tuor instead of heading to Brethil, that would be neat too. Or if you want to go a super dark route: Tyelpë was taken captive to Angband after the Nírnaeth, and Beleg didn’t manage to rescue Túrin so he’s in Angband too, and Maeglin gets kidnapped himself, so they all try and break out together... Anyway: whatever the situation they’re all horribly doomed, they all have family curses, Tyelpë and Maeglin is a great ship because they’re both smiths and everyone hates their dads, Maeglin and Túrin is a great ship because they have matching swords and they’re both super dramatically emo, Túrin and Celebrimbor is a great ship because honestly of course it was Tyelpë who reforged Anglachel into Gurthang and they were both kind of outsiders in Nargothrond - anyway just. Throw them all together into one screaming angsty mess that probably ends up even worse than in canon, I would LOVE that. And Tyelpë outlives both his boyfriends and eventually falls for Annatar who unbeknownst to him had a hand in both their awful demises...

Celebrimbor/Narvi/Annatar: Why feel torn between Celebrimbor/Narvi and Celebrimbor/Annatar when you can have BOTH? We don’t know when Narvi was alive, and it’s entirely possible Annatar’s stay in Eregion overlapped with the crafting of the Doors of Durin. Maybe Tyelpë has a preexisting relationship with Narvi and falls in love with the beautiful stranger; maybe Narvi tries to warn Tyelpë about how suspicious Annatar is but is eventually charmed by him too. Narvi giving Annatar the shovel talk would be amazing. Really I’m interested in anything with these three interacting! Like I mentioned earlier, I love elf/dwarf ships and elf/Ainu ships are great too, so this is a great combination of them :) I generally see Narvi as a female dwarf, but if you’d like to have Narvi be male that’s fine too.

Wow this was longer than I anticipated - I have a lot of rarepair feelings! Thanks for reading this far, and whatever you end up writing for me I am super excited to read it!! And if have questions or ideas or something, my askbox is open and I have anon messages on, I’d love to talk! Thank you <3

[ariadnassecretdiary]

The black swan’s lake (AU)

*Mun Ari: I’m still sad how the first version of this AU got deleted T~T. However, what it’s done it’s done. Let's hope this version surpassed the previous one~

As always, enjoy!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Once upon a time, it existed the Koizumi kingdom. The young prince and heir of the throne, Daisuke, married a young yet beautiful foreign princess Morena. They were in love and so they decided to spend the rest of their lives together, a very rare situation considering most princesses and princes married out of convenience between their kingdoms. After some time, the princess now queen, gave birth to their first daughter: Akane. And just a few years later, a second princess was born: Ariadna.

Although they were sisters, they were like drops of water and oil. Akane was dedicated to her studies, reserved and with firm and strong personality. She was also very organized, ambitious and was logical as well. On the other hand, Ariadna was quite the opposite: she was sensible and delicate, indecisive and had difficulties imposing her wishes or demands. She was kind-hearted, humble and was rather shy. Ariadna wasn’t always like that: as a little girl, she had a difficult time concentrating and instead of learning and attend her responsibilities she would rather play. As time went on, she had problems bending in and was isolated causing Ariadna great grief and so decided to change the way she behaved and be more like a princess…like “she was supposed to”.

Besides, since a very young age, Ariadna was told she wouldn’t be ascending the throne anytime soon if not at all. She wasn’t pushed too hard, plus she wasn’t abicious to even think taking the throne herself. It was a huge responsibility and she thought she would be seen, not just by her people but by other kingdoms, as weak. Ariadna always admired her sister and always saw her fit for the throne. Ariadna then decided to focused solely on acting as a proper lady and study, so she wouldn’t humiliate or bring dishonor to her family or people.

Ariadna, unlike other princesses, she was able to be free. After attending her responsibilities, she would ride her horse and go whenever she wanted. Usually she would go in disguise to the village and see and listen to her people for herself. She liked to help and just feel like any other girl. Other times, she would just explore the surrounding forests, never daring to explore further her kingdom’s limits. There she could just spend some time by her own and simply be.

With all this set…let our story begin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ariadna felt her hair flying wildly with the wind. Riding her beloved horse “Night Star” as she alway did.

“Princess Ariadna! Please, get down that beast!” Miss. Sonia shouted trying to catch Ariadna in the back of a guard’s horse.

“It’s not a beast Miss Sonia! It’s Night Star, remember?” Ariadna replied “However, what is the matter? Why so much insistence?”

“Princess! There’s no time for a sudden adventure! Not today!”

“Oh!” Ariadna made Night Star stopped “Is it for today’s ball? I’m aware of today’s preparations, so worry not Miss. Sonia”.

“That’s not the point Princess! Today is not like any other ball! So that’s why we need to prepare you with time!”

Ariadna sighed.

“I understand. I’m sorry, I caused you troubles. Considering you were forced to ride such ‘beast’ you aren’t fond of” Ariadna apologize.

“Thank you Princess…now, please head back to the palace. We need to start the preparations right away!”

Ariadna was helped by a servant to get down her horse, she thanked him and went back inside the palace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where were you all morning sister?” suddenly Ariadna turned around to find her older sister Akane coming out the study room.

“I’m sorry sister…I went for a walk, but I lost track of time”.

“Please be more careful next time. You made us all worried. Today is a really stressful day and there’s no time to waste”.

“I understand sister, please forgive me. I’ll head back to my room and allow my maids to help me get ready”.

“Thank you”.

Ariadna was about to head back to her room, but stopped tracks and then said:

“You really don’t like balls, don’t you sister?”

“I consider them troublesome” Akane answered “Also they are a waste of time and resources if you ask me”.

“Please don’t say that~ some of them are pretty enjoyable. Besides they are made in your honor”.

“I would prefer having the suitors information in my desk and read them at peace to choose than to have to deal with them in person”.

Ariadna nodded. In the end that was the reason to be held to begin with: they were an opportunity to all available men in the nobility to get to know and try to win over the available ladies of the nobility as well. In the end, unlike fairytales, weddings were used to create alliances between kingdoms. There was no place for love for heirs.

“You can look at them through that perspective or you can see them as a good opportunity to find love~" Ariadna said in a small teasing smile.

“You know that love doesn’t not have a place for people like us. I’m soon to be queen and I need to look for a suitable king. I can’t choose a man based on my likings: I need to look the best man for our kingdom, for our people. Someone that will be able to reign by my side and to look after our best interests. Someone that can provide safety, wealth and peace. Something as love is out of the question”.

“I understand sister…please forgive me. I must have caused you troubles”.

“Not at all” Akane said while approaching Ariadna “I understand you’re just trying to cheer me up. Sadly, us the nobility, sometimes can’t have the luxury to find someone to love. In my case, I’m looking for someone that will be able to rule by my side and worthy. Someone to fight for our people and seek for our interests. Our parents worked so hard for our kingdom all these years to let it all crumble for a bad choice”.

Ariadna averted her eyes, she was right. Unlike her, she couldn’t be careless when it comes to rule. They were princesses, they had responsibilities to attend. Love indeed, was a luxury only normal people could afford.

“But don’t fell down. I accepted that long time ago Ari” Akane continued “I really appreciate your concerns. Besides…” she said while turning around and start leaving “I’ve always admired the beauty in which you see the world. Never lose that. Never, ever, lose that sparkle”.

Ariadna smiled and headed back to her room to get ready.

As Akane was walking down the alley she heard some whispering that caught her attention:

“Princess Ariadna…she may be a princess, but the queen haven’t been very severe on her” one maid said.

“I agree. She’s rather careless and way to free for her own good” another replied.

“Finding ‘true love’? It’s clear she isn’t aware that, unlike her, princess Akane have more responsibilities that she’ll ever will”.

“Thank God she’ll never ascend the throne! Our kingdom would be doomed with such childish attitude!”

“Yes!”

“If you two have so much free time as to speak in a very disrespectful way about a member of the royal family. I would highly recommend you to think again about your choice to work here” Akane interrupted them.

“Your highness!” they both exclaimed in fear “W-We…I-Is just–”

“Silence! Know your place: she might not ascend to the throne, but she’s still and always will be your princess, understood?” Akane said coldly. “Now, leave”.

The two maids bowed ashamed and scared and excused themselves. Akane kept walking, something as allowing somebody to offend or hurt her sister won’t be accepted. Not again, as long as it was in her power to avoid it.

~~~~~~~~~~~

There was only one thing that Ariadna did love about being a princess: the balls.

The beautiful dance hall richly decorated with chandeliers all light up with candles and delicate crystals that gave the light a twinkling effect. The orchestra playing sweet melodies and the exquisite food offered gave the touch. 

Ariadna also loved seeing the gentlemen dressed elegantly and all the pretty dresses the ladies were wearing as well. But what she loved the most was observing the couples gracefully dancing each piece.

Ariadna left a tiny and discrete dreamy sigh, she really wished to be like them…

“Oh my dear lady~ to let such a sigh filled with desire...makes my heart ache with grief” she suddenly heard next to her.

“I’m glad you made it, oh princess Naomi Nakahara from the Adler kingdom~” answered Ariadna while bowing to her friend.

“I’ve told you I dislike being called by my complete title by you” Naomi huffed “Of course I would come!”

“Let me guess: You came for the same reason as Akane”.

Naomi sighed: “Just like you said, I’m here by the orders of my mother who’s desperate to get me married to a heir. In that way, I understand the situation in which you’re sister’s at” Naomi replied looking towards the direction where Akane was surrounded by many sutors “however~ I also came to see you~ Unlike all hypocrites here, I love spending time with my dear and only friend~”

Ariadna and Naomi met one time, long time ago when Morena offered a tea party at their castle. All the ladies were invited and also the queen and princess of the Adler kingdom came. Naomi's mother asked her to become friends with Akane as she was the heir of the Koizumi kingdom. Naomi did as her mother ordered her, but Naomi enjoyed Ariadna’s company much better than Akane’s. And so Naomi became friend with Ariadna rather than Akane, but in the end Naomi’s mother was pleased with her daughter. Since then the Adler and the Koizumi family have a great relationship.

Naomi was almost the contrary as Ariadna: cold and very polite towards strangers, she was rather closed minded and reserved when people tried approaching her. She knew that, due to be the only heir to the Adler throne, she was constantly surrounded by interested people, but they were interested only on her title rather than her as a person. She enjoyed talking about scandalous topics and was very cultured, she also was brutally honest and stubborn. Ariadna wasn’t like them: since she was a princess as well and with a more docile personality, won over Naomi’s softness deep inside her. She had no interest and simply enjoyed listening and learn about other things. She was also kind and nice towards Naomi and people in general, so Naomi understood she was genuine, something she thought was impossible in the world she lived in.

“I’m so happy to see you too Naomi. I thought I would be alone”.

“No way~ I only missed the last ball, but now I’m here!” Naomi said in a comforting voice “so~ tell me what is new?”

“Oh nothing really~ no incident have happened yet and I’m enjoying the ball”.

“Is that so? Well, I noticed from a while now you’ve been rather anxious, am I wrong?”

“Me? Why you think so?”

“I don’t know~ maybe is because you haven’t stop searching among the guests for certain ‘someone’~?”

Ariadna blushed.

“Y-You got me…”

“I knew it~ oh, my dear friend. You’re pretty easy to read. Specially when it comes to balls: you are always waiting for Prince Isaac Guiseman from the North kingdom~”.

Ariadna let a dreamy sigh. Isaac Guiseman was the prince and heir to Guiseman royal family of the north kingdom. Ariadna met him during her first ball and they talked since they were both rather uncomfortable about their current situation. The next ball they met again and they even shared a dance. Ariadna couldn’t help herself to fell in love with him due to find him attractive as well as they shared many interests. However, lately Ariadna heard he was very busy within his kingdom’s responsibilities. 

“You know that whenever there’s a ball he attends he’s never late” Naomi got Ariadna out of her thoughts. 

“Maybe he’s just delayed…”

“He’s has missed the last five balls Ari. I think you should simply stop waiting for him in general…”

Ariadna flinched.

“Why you say so? You usually cheere for me, why the sudden change in mind?”

Naomi looked at Ariadna and sighed.

“Listen, you know I listen to lots of rumors on daily bases. However, I listen to this peculiar rumor that I know you won’t particularly like…”

“What is it?”

“Ari...you know that he’s been busy, but you know the real reason of that?”

“His training won’t let him even breath. In the end, he’s taking the throne anytime soon…”

“And for that same exact reason I want to tell you this: he is indeed busy with his kingdom’s responsibilities, but he’s also searching for a prospect princess to marry Ari”.

Ariadna felt like the color drained from her body. That meant that he was going to get marry as soon as he found one.

“To make things worst: I heard that he…” Naomi stopped.

“He what…?”

“That he have already choose who to get married with…”

Ariadna then understood. He have already found someone to marry...and it wasn’t her. She felt her heart ache.

“Please remember it’s just a rumor! It can’t be completely true”.

“But also completely false…” Ari said in a sad tone.

“Please Ari, don’t feel down. Keep positive! You know he’s not exactly the social one, so he doesn’t surround himself with many women. Besides, who knows? Maybe it’s indeed just a rumor~" Naomi tried cheering Ariadna up.

“I don’t think so…I haven’t received any letter from him…”

“I think that–”.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, however I was wondering if I can have this dance Miss Naomi” suddenly a young man interrupted.

“I’m afraid I–” Naomi started to excuse herself.

“She would love to~” Ariadna accepted in Naomi’s behalf “If you excuse me”

Ariadna bowed at them and slowly retired. Not before noticing Naomi looking at her angrily.

Ariadna went towards the balcony, luckily it was empty and so she could enjoy some fresh air.

Ariadna looked above in the night sky. She always enjoyed looking at the stars twinkling and the round big moon. They were so pretty…yet for some reason instead of causing her wonder like they usually did, she felt instead sadness.

“So now Isaac is getting marry soon, huh?” she muttered for herself “Well, is obvious since he’s about to take over his throne…I wish him the best I guess. That girl is going to be so lucky…” 

Suddenly she felt tears forming in her eyes. She was really sad he didn’t corresponded her feelings. Then a thought came to her mind: even if they were in love, they couldn’t be together. He needed, just like Akane, someone more useful for his kingdom than a second-in-line princess. Ariadna felt more sorrow, was it time for her to simply let go?

Then a certain song came to her ears and turned around. That song…it was the song they always danced. She looked to all the couples dancing and spinning around the dance floor…life sometimes was so unfair.

“I hate that song…I really hate it” she thought as painful tears starting falling down her cheeks without her being able to avoid it. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Ariadna woke up early in the morning. The night before, she sent a maid to tell Naomi that she was very sorry, but that she felt indisposed and went to sleep early. She cried until she fell asleep, but then she came to the conclusion she couldn’t help it. Things were like that for people like her. 

She went down to the kitchen and grab something small to eat and then took Night Star out for a run. She left a note to her family, excusing herself from breakfast and that she would be back before down. She rode Night Star as fast and as far as she could into the forest. It was already the afternoon when she found a clear spot in the middle of the forest and decided to spend the time there. She needed to get away from possible questions from her family about her sudden disappearance from last night’s ball. She needed to think and more importantly, heal. 

“You know Night Star? Sometimes being a princess is horrible” she spoke to her horse as it was eating some grass at peace. “You have so many responsibilities and obligations…you have an image to keep. Everyone is right…I would be a terrible queen: feeling down for something so trivial” Ariadna let a sigh escape her lips. “Sometimes I feel ashamed of my own immaturity”.

Ariadna saw her left hand where her family ring shone under the sunlight. She took it out her finger and looked close at it: the gold figure of a tree richly decorated by jewels, her family’s shield. That ring that was a symbol and remainder of the weight she carried on her shoulders just for being a princess. 

“I guess…I’ll just have to wait until my parents to find some prince for me to marry and that will be beneficial for our kingdom” she said resigned.

Suddenly, Ariadna heard a squawk and in a blink of an eye a raven stole her ring from her fingers.

“What!? No! Wait! Give it back!” Ariadna shouted to the crow who just kept flying “oh no! My mother will kill me if I lose that ring!”

Ariadna quickly got in Night Star and started following after the raven.

At a certain point, the raven descended and started walking towards a tree log that was hanging like some sort of bridge. Ariadna stopped Night Star and tied her to a nearby tree and looked towards the log. 

“Great…But if I come back without it my mother sure will disown me…it can’t be helped”.

Ariadna carefully followed after the raven until the crow disappeared behind a waterfall. Ariadna grunted, just how bad was her luck? She went behind the waterfall until she reached some sort of tunel. She was about to leave, since she was a little scared of what sort of thing she might find if she continued, but then the raven squawk again and she forced herself to continue. Once she crossed the tunnel, she went speechless. 

There was a beautiful river with clear water, where some birds were swimming. There was also beautiful trees that formed a forest. The grass and flowers grew wild and free, it was such a pretty sight. Ariadna was fascinated by the beauty of the landscape that when she heard the squawk again she focused again on the task in hand.

She ran after the flying thief. She guessed she needed to wait until the raven got to it’s nest and grab it once it was out again. She followed him through the forest each time deeper. The river ran next to her until she realized that it got wider until it it turned into a huge lake.

The sight was even prettier that the landscape before. The lake was surrounded by some mountains and at the top there was a beautiful willow tree that looked like some sort of refuge. The raven stood in one of the branches and remained still, like waiting for something.

“Please little bird! I need that ring!” She shouted but the raven remained still.

Suddenly, she heard a sound in the water. She turned around and noticed another creature just landed in the middle of the lake. It was a rather beautiful yet elegant swan, but not like any swan she have seen before: it was deep black. Ariadna was surprise from such unusual color. 

“Hi there little friend~” she greeted the swan with a smile.

The swan looked at her unamused and kept staring at her. Ariadna wished she had brought some seeds to give the bird, but she then noticed the deepness in which the animal seemed to look at her with it’s deep and tiny red eyes. They stared at each other for some minutes and then the swan started swimming closer to the shore where she was standing.

The last rays of the sun where falling behind the mountains and were slightly illuminating the surface of the lake itself. Some of the light from the surface of the lake reflected in the swan’s dark feathers. Unexpectedly, the swan started to shine so bright that at a certain point it made Ariadna closed her eyes. She could distinguish the swan seemed to grow taller and it kept getting closer to her. Then the light extinguished and Ariadna opened her eyes only to find herself in shock.

Before her there wasn’t any trace of the black swan, rather for a young man. Judging from the small amount of black feathers laying on the floor where the boy was standing, Ariadna’s realization hit her to the point she fell from the surprise. The boy looked at her with a serious expression. Ariadna observed him and could notice he seemed around her age, quite taller than her, with a dark black hair but it caught her attention was the deep red of his eyes. She couldn’t believe her eyes, just a minute ago there was a swan and now it turned into a boy!? 

“What? You’ve never seen a guy in you life?” he asked in a mocking tone.

“I-I…Of course I have! But not a swan that could turn into a guy!” she muttered in surprise

“Well, your reaction was rather boring~” he said while getting some feathers stocked on his suit out. 

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you” she commented standing up with a sarcastic tone.

“Seriously…is she the best you could get?” the boy asked looking towards the top of the mountain where the raven kept standing. The raven squawk in reply. 

“Excuse me? What you mean by that?”

“Sometimes you’re useless Yuri” he said when the raven flew and stood on his shoulder. “I told you to bring a girl but you instead you brought a mere villager”.

“Huh!? Well at least I’m not sort of…whatever you are! Besides I don’t talk to birds like you do” she answered angry. Just who he thinks he is?

“Oh really~?” he answered sarcastically “Well, it can’t be helped, you will do”.

“I’m out of here, you’re scary” she said while thinking ‘Besides he might be some sort of wizard I must get away!’

“hold on! That raven! It stole my ring, can you please tell him to give it to me, please?”

“A ring? Is that true Yuri?” the raven nodded and flew back to the tree and returned with Ariadna’s ring.

“Yes! That is my ring!” she exclaimed.

“Is that so? This ring seems very valuable for a villager like you to have it~" he commented.

“What…?”

The boy looked closely to the ring and then threw it to the lake on his back.

“HEY!! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!?” Ariadna exclaimed going to the lake. “Oh no oh no oh no!” Ariadna was about to enter the lake when the boy stopped her.

“I wouldn’t enter if I were you~".

“Why!?”

“It is said that a huge crocodile lays at the bottom of the lake, plus you may tangled with all the seaweed that grows at the button~”.

“I need to get my ring back!” she exclaimed frustrated “Then go and get it!”

“As if~" he answered in a mocking matter.

“Transform into a swan again and bring it back!”

“That’s not how it works ‘villager’ I can’t transform at will”.

“What? Then, how I’m supposed to get my ring back?”

“There is a way~".

“Tell me! I’ll do anything!”

“Anything~?”

Ariadna realized the mistake she had just made.

“Yes…”

“I’ll give your ring back, if you promise to come back everyday here”.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, you see it’s pretty boring here so you just need you to come and make me company, what you say?”

“F-For how long?”

“For as long as I’m satisfy, of course~".

Ariadna looked at the lake and then towards the boy.

‘I can’t risk having my mother know I lost the family ring…guess there’s no other way…’ she thought.

“Ok…It’s a deal then”.

The boy smiled satisfied. He came closer to her and offered her his hand. Ariadna looked at his hand doubtful and grabbed it to do a handshake.

“Good~ then see you tomorrow~" the black haired man turned around and started leaving.

“W-Wait! What is your name?” Ariadna asked.

The boy stopped and then turned his head around.

“You can just call me Kino” and with that Kino kept walking.

Ariadna stood there and cursed at her bad bad luck. She now was stock until who knows when with that Kino in order to get her ring back. She looked above to the sky and noticed it was almost night time.

“Now my mom is going to kill me if I’m late for dinner!” and with that she headed back to where she left Night Star in a hurry.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Yuri squawk in Kino’s left shoulder.

“Hey! That was in my ear!” Kino exclaimed covering it “By the way, are you comfortable there? You got some nerve”.

Yuri flew off Kino’s shoulder and once he laid on the ground, he was surrounded by some light to finally revealed his human form.

“I apologize” Yuri said. 

“You must be sorry. The girl you brought was seriously disappointing”.

“You told me to bring you a young girl, I did as you wished” Yuri replied unbothered “Besides, no girl seems to come this deep into the forest these days. Guess the stories about it keeps people away in general”.

“Maybe it was all her doing, in the end she just enjoys keeping me here all bored”.

“Maybe that is. In any case, I hope this girl ends up being useful”.

“I hope so too” Kino said while looking into the now dark sky “Time’s running out and I don’t want that to happen”.

“You’ll succeed Kino… you have to”.

“I know, I know”.

The two gentlemen kept walking through the forest until they could no longer be seen. With a plan in mind, what kind of destiny awaits for the young princess Ariadna?

To be continued…

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

*Mun Ari: They say things happen for a reason! I think this version ended better than the previous one that got deleted! Anyway~ comment what you think and I’ll work on the second part as soon as I can! I hope this will be a short serie rather than a long one :’D (I’m planning it to be three episodes long…let’s see if I can make it ^^'). See you soon!

[shinglescat]

Previous or  all stories at once.

I wanted to make separate parts, but guess what.

They left their horses near the cave under the embassy in the sake of convenience and security; Visenya was left in charge of their horses, hidden in tall bushes. She was told to stay at home, but instead caught up with them past Dragon Bridge later. The trio talked her into going back to her parents, naively thinking she'd be there safe and away from the trouble, but she foolishly did the exact opposite, tailing them instead. They had to come up with with an important mission then, such as keeping the horses safe, "as they will need their steeds in the best shape to escape soon", when in reality no one really wanted to babysit the girl. According the plan, Meltem went on her own, listening to the reports from the men through some crystal shards from the Void that Mark happened to know how to make. He went to that odd place and recovered three pieces for everyone except Visenya. Because Visenya should've been out of picture. But she's not. - How do these shards work exactly? - he heard from Aspen numerous times along the way. - Do I look like a scientist? - Mark replied every time in annoyed tone, - Quantum entanglement, I believe. Before Aspen could open his mouth one more time, elf groaned, interrupting him altogether. - Listen, smartass, if you want to study these rocks, be my guest. They just work, and I don't care how exactly they do it. They had a good laugh back at home with these things: all three separated, dispersing throughout the city, just to test their connection and to actually learn how to use the pieces. The shards required squeezing in hand to go online, warming up in the process. One doesn't have to actually talk with their mouth during the session, just think the message for it to be transported to the receiver; all three pieces are also connected between each other, so it doesn't really matter who the actual addressee is. "Meltem, would you be so kind to get that sweet roll for me?"  Mark thought, another thought appearing in the background then, as he reached out to his butt,  "Fuck my ass is itchy...",  he instantly caught the thought, closing his eyes with his hand, face red, too late to do anything about that, as he heard an explosion of laughter somewhere in the distance. "Don't worry, I've got some hair growing on my boobs, it's worse if you see it," was heard in return, to which he snickered,  "...I... I didn't mean to send that". Obviously the shards caught and forwarded all the thoughts they could hear. The men went inside with Maurice's invitation, ready to guide Meltem through. It was also in their interest to keep anyone from discovering a break in should the things go south. They both agreed on splitting up inside, covering twice more ground than together. One should be monitoring the inner courtyard, while the other stays in the main building, being on lookout for any sound of trouble for Meltem. - Fuck, you look gorgeous, - the elf noted, looking over his companion once again. Gods won't let him lie, the man looked magnificent and regal. Compared to Mark's plain attire of black dress, cape and veil, Aspen's outfit was majestic, more suitable to a breton prince. - Thanks, - the man replied, adding, - No need to say that in nineteenth time. - I seriously can't get over it, fuck me, - Mark just couldn't shut up, totally lovestruck, - Wait, did you really count that? - and the man just shrugged his shoulders, only nodding once in answer.

The guard at the gate checked their invitations, making sure they're genuine: a couple right before them got apprehended for handing over forged papers; the lady started screaming and demanding to meet the emissary herself, but was arrested instead; her companion managed to keep his cool, however both were led somewhere from the view. Probably for interrogation. Hopefully not for their demise. Mark got nervous, but didn't let that show. - Welcome to the Masquerade, gentlemen, - the soldier had a fake smile of sheer politeness, handing the papers back to Mark, ordering the guards behind him to open the gate for them. Elf made the first step inside the outer courtyard, followed by the man behind. The amount of guard there was insane, more suitable for a very important international meeting than to a simple masquerade party. He tried to look around himself as discreetly as possible, counting the number of guards and noting possible places to use as a cover if something goes wrong. - What's with the guard? - he asked quietly in the air, as the man caught up with him, - Twenty soldiers here, three wizard. It's overkill for a party. - Why do you even bother? - A bit suspicious, don't you think? - elf looked back at Aspen, - Like if they are expecting someone of importance or even looking for trouble. - You are being paranoid, - Mark received a condescending pat on the shoulder, winching at the man, before stopping altogether to studying the embassy from the bottom to the top. There was nothing worth of attention.

It was already crowded inside, ladies and gents dancing around the hall in their exquisite masks and party dresses, gossiping and laughing to each other; servants running around them. Where did the emissary even managed to find all these people? They definitely belong to either Cyrodiil or High Rock, but definitely not Skyrim. - Care to dance? - he heard from the nonchalant man. Elf grunted. - Yeah, two dudes dancing together, a sight to behold, - Mark hissed, - Dance to that old lady in the corner instead, - he pointed at one of the fancy looking ladies, seemingly bored with everything, - I'll eavesdrop a little.

- Your loss, - Aspen said, moving towards the said lady, asking her for a dance. Mark found a place to sit near the drinks, people already drunk. He heard them talk some gibberish, mostly lewd stuff, and he couldn't care less if he hadn't heard a familiar name. Esmir. What was about her? He relaxed, leaning against the wall, trying to understand their nonsense, picking up random lines. "She's got a nice ass", he heard, "And a nice set of tits for an old hag," the drunkard told to his buddy, hanging on his shoulders, "And the, eh, that walking cupboard?" his buddy asked, "I'll fuck him in his ear, the fuckhead asks for it," he gulped his poison, before continuing, "Bet I'll bend her over her desk this night, spread her cheeks real good and..." Ew. Mark couldn't listen to this anymore, concern growing rapidly. It's not like the chat between two drunkards would hurt his feeling considering they were talking about his grandmother and her bodyguard, it was just... too lewd for his taste. He couldn't handle this talk with his friends without blushing into Oblivion, and now this. Even worse. Even worse if he imagines it. He felt pity towards Orlan, imagining him getting wrecked into the ear Mark managed to bite off ages ago. Before he got back to his feet, Mark reached to the inner pocket, squeezing the shard in his hand. It went warm right away, allowing him to transfer newly found information to Meltem. - Esmir's here somewhere, lapdog with her, - he addressed to the woman, sneaking somewhere in another building. - I know, - he heard in his head in return, - Just saw them going outside. - Did you find the archives yet? It's probably somewhere upstairs. - No, I'm yet to get there. I have to go. With that connection ended, and shard went cold. Aspen probably heard their conversation too; elf noticed him near the same woman that's been whispering something into his ear with a lewd expression on her face. Something twisted unpleasantly in his stomach as he approached the pair.

- Can I borrow him? - Mark uttered, smiling to the lady with a fake smile, making a bow before her. - Oh! Look at you, sweetheart! Of course! Just don't forget to bring him back, we still have a matter to discuss, - a vulgar smile on her face as she slapped bottom of the ashen haired man with her hand. The elf opened his mouth and closed it again in disbelief, as Aspen himself dragged him away into the crowd, swaying him gently.

- Did you offer her to bend her over a table too? - he hissed at the man. - Excuse me? Jealous much? Mark shook his head in disbelief.

- I've heard some drunkards talk about my grandmother a moment ago, - elf explained quietly, looking at the man, - This was the reason I... borrowed you from your lady over there, - he looked over Aspen's shoulder, standing on his tippy toes: she waved her fingers at him, sending an air kiss, - that's incluned on bending you over a table instead, ew, - elf took him by his arm and away from her view, - My grandmother is here somewhere.

- I heard that. What's your plan then? - As before, you go to the inner courtyard and monitor the situation from there. - "I" go? - Aspen smirked. - Yes, unless you want to get raped in a closet, - Mark pointed at the closet door nearby, squinting angrily, - You heard Meltem, Esmir's somewhere outside. - That esteemed woman actually proposed an orgy after the party, - he said nonchalantly, as the elf in front of him let out another "EW!" sound, - Whatever you say, boss, - the man grinned, patting the elf on the shoulder before heading to the exit to the inner courtyard.

Mark was left alone in the room full of strangers.

...

The crowd outside cheered as fireworks went off, loud clapping and joyous howling all around; masks sparkling and twinkling under the dark night skies that were filled with the most beautiful adornment today, somehow even more magnificent that ever - stars. She's yet to see a masquerade more beautiful that this, no, even better - this was the best night she's ever seen. She hurried into the crowd, blending in with dancing people, spinning round with merry men and women, as the music went on and on. Marvelous atmosphere made her drunk, crave for more, as she was carried around in this living, shining current of hundreds and thousands of gleaming faces. The girl couldn't believe her friends wanted her to miss all of this, such a celebration.

She laughed as someone took her by her hands, taking her deeper and deeper into the eye of the storm. She danced like she's never danced before, feeling alive, yet unreal. Dozens of hands reaching out to her like if she was a distant bright star, illuminating the darkness with the light of her heart. The brightness, the happiness; she was radiating it all, making everyone around her cheer with overwhelming love. She's never been more happy than today, forgetting her worries under thousands of lights, intoxicated with everlasting joy.

"Visenya," - she heard someone call her name, - "Visenya," - she turned her head around, smiling to caressing hands, feeling tired already with a pleasant bliss. The white haired man, like a prince, stood out among the crowd, reaching out for her. She stretched her arm to him, letting him to carry her away from the joyous storm and into the quiet of the night.

She couldn't think of how she missed the fresh air, breathing in until until her lungs started aching. The drunkenness soon began to fade, as she recognized the concerned man in front of her, still smiling at him. - Are you alright? - he asked, still holding her by her hands. - Are you my knight? - she giggled, - Yes, I am, - she couldn't hold back herself anymore, bursting with a strong feeling of love for everyone around her; she hugged him, going limp, - I've never been better, - the girl snuggled into Aspen's shoulder, breathing in his scent.

- You were told to wait us with the horses, - he said, barely catching the limp girl, - You shouldn't be here. - But it's... so amazing here, I couldn't wait any longer... 

The man lowered himself to look the girl in the eyes.

- You are drugged..., - her pupils dilated, not reacting to light anymore, - Let's go, hold on to me. He was about to carry her, but someone took him by his arm, effectively stopping in his tracks.

- Hello, young man, -  the woman smiled at them wickedly, - young lady, - she bowed with her head, - Do you mind to make me a company this lone yet charming evening?

- I must apologize, my lady, - Aspen refused, - My companion is not feeling well, we have to go, - he picked her up, carrying in his arms, but someone big appeared right in front of him.

- I'm afraid you are not going anywhere, - the woman behind him said, reaching for his shoulder and turning him around; he had to let go of the girl gently lowering her on her feet. Elf lady signed to someone, as the two were forcefully grabbed and taken after the her. It took a long minute for Aspen to realize who was this woman.

Esmir.

He tried to reach to the Void shard in his pocket, to warn his companions, but a soldier suddenly yanked Aspen's arm too hard, and it fell on the ground, shattering on the impact, shiny stone becoming dull in a blink of a eye.

...

She tried to interrogate the girl first, but it didn't work out - the kid was drunk with that drug those noble asshats managed to spray all around the courtyard - instead she switched over to the man that seemingly cared for her in his own way, a total stranger wouldn't give a dog's shit about some random intoxicated girl roaming the party.

- How does he look? His costume. Mask. Answer, - the woman crossed her arms on her chest, looking at Aspen. She asked this for the fourth time already, no reaction whatsoever, - Orlan? - she looked at the giant wood elf, making a nod with her head.

The elf took hold of the girl, twisting her arm, grabbing one of her fingers. - Talk. Otherwise he'll break them one by one. The man stayed silent, not looking at the girl, probably calculating their chances of survival. - Is it really worth dying for a petty kid? - the general asked nobody. A loud sound of crack followed shortly after. Visenya screamed in pain.

- Think again if you're going to be silent this long night, - Esmir rounded the table, grabbing weeping girl by her jaw, - Costume? Mask? Or maybe I should ask her again? - she looked at Visenya, all of a sudden getting a knife out of nowhere, stabbing her in her injured hand. The girl cried even louder, her scream probably echoing all around the embassy. The woman waited a moment, before twisting the knife in girl's stabbing wound, elf holding her steadily.

- He wears a veil, - the man finally spoke, looking at the grimace of agony on Visenya's face, - Black dress, black and red cape with a silver chain, - he sighed. Esmir looked at her general. - Bring him here, now, - and the giant cupboard of an elf left the room, - Anyone else with you? - "no," was heard in return, - Alright then, - she pulled the girl off the floor, taking a good look of her face, - Who was this dumb of you to take the girl with you? I can recognize this face from miles away, be damn that old punk, - Esmir shoved her to the side, making her way to Aspen, grabbing him by his jaw, - Shame, you have a good set of genes even for a human. You'd be a good Altmer otherwise. You are going to be a great addition to our breeding facility. Visenya was barely conscious from the pain in her hand, drugs still lingering in her bloodstream, intoxication made everything harder for her. She looked at her hand one more time, wincing, before pulling the blade out. She cried aloud, as it felt to the floor; the elf lady glanced at her, diverting her attention back to the man again, speaking of vile; so open and careless, totally unprotected without that monster of hers. The girl could've swore the drunkenness made he bold, as she quietly picked up the knife back in her good hand. Visenya moved slowly, nauseous from all that's happened to her in within a span of an hour, before rushing forward, blade pointed somewhere in the center of old hag's back. The woman stopped her mid flight, catching her by her hand, magic cracking in the air. Esmir snatched knife from her hands in one swift move, driving it into girl's belly, violently pushing it forward. She pulled it out then, thrusting it instead in the side of her neck, leaving it there. Visenya whined, choking on her blood as it escaped her mouth, life fading from her eyes. The man couldn't do anything but watch her die, frozen in space by the unleashed magic, as the body of the girl fell to the floor.

Anger filled Esmir. She kicked the lying body into the side time and time again, losing herself for a moment of frenzy. - Get them out of here! - she shrieked, commanding to someone behind the door, wrath fuming around her, as four soldiers carried both of them out of the room, trail of blood following Visenya's body, - And keep the girl alive for a couple more hours, I am going to need her, - Esmir tucked loose hair back into place, her breathing erratic, - Insolent little bitch...

She took a sit behind her table, trying to relax. She preferred Orlan getting his hands bloody for her, but still enjoyed bloodletting herself. It reminded her of her old days, when she used to do it all herself. The girl's move was reckless, she could've gotten out of here in one piece and alive. But she had to try to attack her from behind. How quaint. Esmir would lie if she said she didn't enjoy it though, however she would've liked to avoid unnecessary confrontation, otherwise her grandson wouldn't follow her back to Summerset. She can't afford herself to lose another grandchild, now that Livaen was kidnapped. The Prince becomes more and more desperate. She caught her thoughts drifting towards the red headed whore once more. Oh, if it wasn't for Markus, she'd gut her right there with her own hands, skin her alive. The woman smiled to the thought. - Sire, - she heard, and Orlan dragged someone inside the room, face familiar yet unknown; skin of gold, eyes of silver, brows knitted; high cheekbones, sharp jawline, plump yet small lips. She didn't let it known, but she was highly impressed: her grandson's grown up looking rather princely. And what a pleasant surprise, he was actually wearing the colors and style of her house.

Esmir smiled. - Hello, Markus, - she raised her hands in greetings, - I wouldn't ever guess you've grown up to be such an exemplar of our race, - her voice sounded more satisfied than she'd like it to be, - Would you enlighten me, what brought you here?

The elf looked around the room, noticing a trail of blood, heart starting to race in his chest. Who did she injured? - Whose blood this is? - he asked instead, voice cold.

- Oh, this is? Don't bother yourself, it's of no importance, - Esmir got to her feet, making her way to Mark, - You definitely didn't get here in full parade just to hug your grandmother, did you? - she reached his face with her hand, stroking the cheekbone.

- Livaen, where is she? - Mark preferred not to waste their time with courtesies, choosing rather a direct approach. The look on Esmir's face changed. She was more concerned now against her own volition. - She's fine, - the only thing she said, voice stern. - Yeah, - he looked her straight into the eyes, - Talk of bullshit. Esmir made a growling sound, alien for her behavior. This night was definitely too bizarre for her liking. - Ever wondered about your parents? - she smirked, changing the subject in a completely different direction. Mark raised his brow in question, trying to seem ignorant, yet shiver running down his spine. He was ready to ask what this has to do with Livaen's disappearance, but was interrupted with crystal shard from the Void getting warm in his inner pocket. "Mark, we have an emergency", he heard in his head a voice, “We had to leave you behind", Meltem sounded distressed, “I have Livaen's whereabouts, but you're on your own now. Get out of there. Go to Riften and lay low, wait for us and don't do anything stupid, we will get to you when we can... I'm sorry”, she said with unmanageable sadness in her voice. What was that all about? He was about to open his mouth, when Esmir continued her speech. - My poor child, you still have no idea, have you?, - she snickered, but when she was about to say something else, some lieutenant has entered the room, breathing heavily.

- Someone broke in into the archives, sire. They stole the dossier. The prisoners are also gone. Esmir fell silent, processing the information she's just received, emotions on her face changing quickly. It was the right moment to escape, Mark thought to himself, backing off a little.

- Where are you going? - Orlan spoke, still keeping the kid in place with his giant palms. It was now or never. Mark turned around, facing the elf. He stretched out his arm, trying to reach his face. Orlan was confused, unaware of what's about to happen. The closer kid's hand got, the more sparks formed around it. - Knock him out, you idiot! - Esmir suddenly shouted at her general, as the bosmer grabbed kid's arm only to be bit through the glove as the spell went off. It was too late to do anything about that. The woman barely had any time set up a ward, as the explosion hit hard, sending everyone in the room in the air, stone crumbling, wood and fabric catching flames. She was stupid enough to forget about this rather annoying ability of her grandson to make explosions out of any magic outbursts. She should've cut this potential when he was too young to do anything about it.

The flames engulfed the building, as Mark rushed down the stairs, his head aching. The explosion has thrown him out of the room, helping with getting out of there in a way. He didn't met much resistance yet on his way out, mostly because he caught everyone here off guard. The explosion probably hadn't killed Orlan, and his death wasn't his goal, he simply wanted to set the place on fire, to get himself proper distraction and barrier against the soldiers that are about to chase him at any moment; they will definitely run towards Esmir's office first where they will actually receive their catch and retrieve order.

He heard shouts. The soldiers were on his trail. He couldn't just escape to the Void, he needed some time to prepare. There was also no place for him to hide, as the trail of Orlan's blood marked his path. The best option was to run forward and never look back, make the dungeon collapse behind him too, he thought to himself as he fell of the ladder to the cave under the Embassy.

The adrenaline was still rushing down his veins as he made another turn in the cave. The same turn it seemed. He was lost; the dread was quickly devouring him, his senses crying out loud to stop and give up, surrender to the pursuers. Panic overtook him, thoughts running around his head like roaches as shouts and footsteps were getting closer. There is no way out of here, he thought again, succumbing to the terror. But he needs to go forward, he said to himself again, his cousin needs him, especially now that Meltem has the information about her. He can't give up now, not yet. He didn't notice how he got on the ground; his mind becoming clearer with each new breath, tunnel vision starting to disappear. The sounds of chase weren't so close actually, and he could swear he heard a sea somewhere near. Mark got to his feet, still trembling in horror, making slow steps towards the sound; he wanted to speed up, his legs unable to produce any more power now that the adrenaline is washing out . They actually started aching badly, and his whole body hurt from the explosion - he managed to hit a corner with the nape of his neck when the shock wave knocked him from his feet, and that fall of the ladder - he probably injured something too. The sound of waves was getting closer; after one last corner and one last push through the throbbing pain in his muscles he exited the cave, collapsing on the beach. He heard a neigh near him, but his whole body just refused to move yet.

They left a horse for him to get out at least. - Hey, neigh-neigh, fuck, come here, - he called the horse, unable to come up with horse noises, - Yeah, come here, - he smiled as the animal obediently approached him. Mark reached out for the saddle, pulling himself in place. It was hard as the horse kept moving around, probably scared with the explosion and shouts coming from the embassy. He finally got in the seat, almost lying one the horse's back with no energy left. - Just go, - he told the animal, getting the reins in hands, heels kicking it into its sides, commanding the horse to run. Mark couldn't hold any longer, losing and gaining his consciousness every couple of minutes.

 ...

- Meltem, I'm so sorry, - the woman lowered her head to look at the girl in her arms, her voice faint. The bandage on her neck already soaked in red. The bumpy road must've woken her up. She felt tingling in her nose again, tears filling her eyelids. 

- Shhhh, don't talk, - Meltem said, grabbing her firmer, pressing her to herself, smiling as softly as she could, - Don't talk, - she tried to disguise her shaking voice, as she was ready to burst to tears. But she can't let herself do it, not in front of the poor girl. She must not see her cry. The woman found them in the torture chamber, through which she attempted to escape. No one noticed her presence yet, so she had to hurry. She had no time to warn anyone, nor search for her companions. But it happened she came across two of them. For some unknown reason they both were in a cage, with an elven mage casting spells upon Visenya. What was she doing in there when she had to guard the horses, Meltem questioned herself. The closer she got, the more concerned she became. She crouched in shadows closer to the guard, suddenly grabbing him by his throat, making him stop whatever he's been doing. - Let him go, - she heard a familiar voice, belonging to the ashen haired man. She allowed herself to look down at him, him pointing at Visenya covered in blood, her skin pale, lips completely drained of color. She couldn't hold herself, letting loose of the mage. Meltem dropped to her knees, barely able to contain herself. The elf resumed sustaining her while Aspen seemingly tended to her mortal wounds, trying to stitch cut flesh together with a thread and a needle. Te man told her of what happened to them both. Meltem got quickly got angered, yelling at him in desperation for making her suffer, but ultimately she knew he's not the one to blame here, but the girl herself, who refused to listen to anyone, her own foolishness brought her to her demise. Meltem let a single tear run down his cheek, as she commanded Aspen to take the mage hostage to keep the girl alive for the time being. They weren't wizards, nor possessed any kind of magic; Mark was nowhere to be found, and he was the only one who could keep her alive with those explosions of his, so all that was left for them is to take the thalmor elf prisoner and hope for the best. There was a physician in Solitude, who used to tend to wounds worse than that. Now she was their the only beacon in this sea of darkness, their Polaris. She nearly forgot to tell Mark that their mission was over, and they had to leave him in a hurry. As they were almost out of sight of the embassy, they heard a loud bang, fire erupting from the hill. She wanted to reach out to him if he was okay, he couldn't loose another kid, but her hands were already busy with dying girl. Aspen couldn't contact him either, his shard shattered upon encounter with the guard. - I don't wanna die, - was heard again in a seemingly quiet night, so that even Aspen turned around to look at the girl, - I so don't wanna die, - Visenya cried with dry tears, blood running down her mouth. The woman couldn't hold back herself anymore, hugging her, pressing her closely to herself. She pressed her forehead against hers, feeling cold of her skin. She tried to breath steadily, to warm her frozen face at least for a tiny bit, tears falling on pale skin. Meltem took hold of her good hand, already cold as severe winter, squeezing it gently, feeling barely noticeable heartbeat. - Hold on just a little while longer, - she sang quietly with a smile, voice trembling, loudly swallowing her tears, - Everything will be alright, - Meltem kissed her, not willing to let her go. She squeezed her gently once again, letting go of horse reins, holding on the back of the running animal with only legs, just to calm the girl, to comfort her. The woman let her go, looking at her face again, only to find out, Visenya was already gone. She didn’t hold back herself anymore.

...

Mark woke up in a moving carriage, sun bursting through the windows. He had no idea how he got there, nor who picked him up. The last thing he remembered is passing out on a horse on somewhere along the road to Dragon Bridge.

- Ah, I see you've awaken, - he heard someone's familiar cheerful voice and looked into speaker's direction. The dark elf was situated in front of him, completely covered in furs. Only now Mark has noticed how cold it was inside. He looked around himself, puzzled, - Oh, don't look so confused, I've picked you up on my way from the party, - Maurice smiled, passing a bottle of something to Mark. He had to sniff it before drinking whatever's inside, to what dunmer noticed with a smirk on his lips, - Worry not! It's not poisoned. - It's not what I meant, - he said in low and hoarse voice, wheezing sounds heard from his throat, sick from being exposed to the cold for a long time. He sniffed it again, only to find notes of honey, berries and alcohol. Mark winced, handing over the drink back to dunmer. - Well, alright then, - the elf shrugged his shoulders, taking a sip from the bottle. Mark covered himself better with furs, noticing the wild pain in his bones. He could probably guess the amount of bruises he had after the explosion. His whole body was throbbing as if someone tried to beat him to death, slightest move making his muscles ache.   - Where..., - he wanted to ask something, but his throat got dried out, - Where are we?

- The Pale, - answered elf, getting himself comfy, - You did quite a mess up there, I had to change plans quick, - Mark glanced at him, question in his eyes, - Thalmor patrols everywhere in imperial-controlled holds, looking for you and your friends, - Maurice answered darkly, - You don't want to get in trouble, do you? - Mark looked outside again. There was a town in the distance, but it wasn't their goal apparently, - We barely made it out of Haafingar and Hjaalmarch. - Thanks for picking me up, - elf said, closing the eyes again. He really meant it.

[seeroftodayandtomorrow]

A Musical Affair

Chapter 8

Read on AO3

“Would you call me a hypocrite,” Kurt asked, “for ranting against Rachel when she gives me money, but liking it very much when she gives me food?”

They had stopped kissing for the moment, but were still lying on the blanket, close together, legs intertwined. Kurt was nibbling on a slice of sweet pie, laughing as he tried to keep the filling from squishing out. Outside, the day was moving on, but in here, time seemed to stand still. Far too soon, Blaine would have to leave in order to get home in time for dinner, but for now, he was happy where he was.

“It's food,” he said, shrugging. “Most people like food.”

“Most people also like money,” Kurt pointed out. “And don't get me wrong, I do as well. Having money is very convenient.”

“Then-”

“Are you aware,” Kurt interrupted, “that more than half of London's population lives the way I do, or in far worse circumstances?”

“I...never really thought about it, to be honest.” Blaine was slightly ashamed; Kurt, however, looked like he hadn't expected anything else. Few of Blaine's social standing were aware they lived in a protective little bubble in which they met only people of their own class, and the craftsmen, merchants and servants that provided for them but were mostly ignored.

“I am not poor. A lot of my acquaintance consider me quite well-off. I have my own room with a window and a fireplace, I can afford to support my stepmother and still eat, and most of all, I earn my living doing something I love. It's only people like Rachel that consider me a charity case, when there are so many more worthy projects she could set her mind to.”

Blaine couldn't help thinking that Kurt was right. Watching him here, in his own space, he didn't seem like he was lacking something.

“I'm not out on the street or sleeping on the rope,” Kurt continued, “unlike some other people I know who grew up in quite similar circumstances. There are a lot who'd need Rachel's money much more than I do.”

Then he smiled again as he took another bite out of the pie. “Food, on the other hand, especially food like this -  is just a gift from a friend.”

Blaine sat up and also took a slice of pie. “I happen to know,” he said after a little hesitation, “that Sir Jesse and Lady St. James donate a lot of money to a lot of causes. I think, maybe, that for Rachel, the money she gives to you is also just a gift from a friend.”

Kurt looked at him. After a while, he nodded. “You may be right. Still, I don't like it, and I have repeatedly told her so. But well, what do I expect—it was never her way to listen to somebody else when she thought she knew better.”

After a moment of silence, he shrugged, smiled, and pulled Blaine towards him. Blaine rather hurriedly put his slice of pie aside. A glance at the window showed him they had time for a few more kisses, at the very least.

“Now, what do you do to ask someone to dance?”

“I go to whatever lady I plan to dance with, bow, then ask her to honor me with the next. Then I will try not to look on the floor and count my steps while I step on her toes for a song or two. Afterwards, I escort her back to her parents or friends. But this will never happen. I've been excusing myself from dancing up to now, and I will keep doing that in the future. I don't know how to dance.”

“We'll come to that later. But as I told you, you can afford to be known as a bad dancer, but not as someone who doesn't know how to behave. Now, what else have I told you about dancing?”

Blaine was, by now, a little exasperated. Sebastian was not a bad student, but sometimes Blaine wished he would just take him at his word every now and then instead of questioning everything.

“Um—never exert myself to the point of sweating. Men who refuse to dance at all make themselves more unpopular than bad dancers—thank you, I understood that, you know—and—oh, never dance too many dances with the same young lady.”

“Right,” Blaine said and tried to come up with a way to teach Sebastian to dance without having to actually dance with him.

“But I don't understand that,” Sebastian said, causing Blaine to sigh. “Why can't I dance again with a girl I like, if we, say, talked about something interesting the moment the music ended?”

“Because people will think you want to marry her. You will raise hopes in her and her family, because, let's face it, you are a very eligible match.”

He remembered all too well the speculative glances and whispers if he happened to be more attentive to one girl than the others. It was one part of being an earl—or heir to one—he really didn't miss.

“What if I want to marry her?”

“You—you want to marry?”

“Well. I thought getting married and producing an heir was part of the whole thing of being an earl.”

Blaine couldn't help but nod. It was; there was no denying people would expect and even pressure Sebastian to marry, and soon.

“But—you don't like women.” Blaine wasn't quite sure why he was protesting; it was by no means unusual for men like him to get married—be it as camouflage, because they wanted children or for a thousand other reasons. It was even possible that Sebastian did like women as well as men.

But he was shaking his head.

“No, I don't. Not that way. What's your point?”

“I just thought -” It was stupid. He hadn't even made up his own mind about whether or not to marry, back when that was still an important question.

“You thought it'd be the honorable thing not to marry when I won't love my wife.”

Blaine nodded, somewhat sheepishly. His parents had not loved one another, and while their open loathing had been seen as somewhat indecent, like hating each other should be done behind closed doors, nobody had seen it as unusual.

“Well,” Sebastian continued, “I plan to make sure my wife won't love me either. I want to someone who will take me solely for my money and my title, and who, if possible, will tolerate me looking for entertainment somewhere else, and who will make a decent companion otherwise. I will treat her with respect, the need for discretion will make sure I don't flaunt my affairs, and I'm sure I will be able to give her a child or two. She'll have it better than a lot of other women. At least my wife won't die alone in a little room behind the kitchen while her relatives discuss if she's worth the cost of a doctor.”

Blaine could not think of anything to say in the face of Sebastian's bitterness. He guessed that his mother had died like this, and he felt a great deal of shame for his father, the late and unmissed earl, who had let his first wife die in poverty and loneliness.

“You're right,” he conceded in a low voice. He still thought it was dishonest somehow, especially since Sebastian's wife probably would not have the freedom to seek her pleasure elsewhere.

But that was the way their society worked, and in the end, there was no big difference if the husband strayed into the bed of another woman or into that of a man.

“Speaking of discretion,” he said, both to change the subject and because it was something he had meant to talk to Sebastian about. “You need to be more—well, discreet.”

“What?”

“You have been seen in the company of the same young man twice; a young man, I might add, who is—at least in certain circles—known for frequenting molly houses.”

“So?”

Again, Blaine was at a loss for words. He remembered his own first meeting with Sebastian, and the reasons he had listed for being able to be so...open in his solicitations. All of these still applied: Sebastian was an earl, and his wealth and title would protect him, if not his partners, from most of the consequences a discovery would have for most men. If he was indeed, as he had said, a good pugilist, this would protect him from most private hostilities.

But still, Blaine worried. He didn't know why he didn't want Sebastian to flaunt his proclivities; he hoped it didn't have anything to do with wanting to protect the reputation of the earldom. Maybe it was just that he didn't want to lose his half brother's company, which, while exasperating, was often a lot of fun and considerably widened his horizon. But should word get out that Sebastian was someone who, as it were, corrupted young men, his grandmother, unaware that he was far beyond corrupting, would certainly forbid Blaine to associate with him.

So he decided on a tactical approach, since he doubted that the desire alone to protect his maybe less affluent and influential prospective partners would be enough to convince Sebastian to be more cautious.

“Imagine one of the young men of our general acquaintance, many of whom are very handsome and might also be...amenable to your suggestions, catching your eye. If you continue like this, you will soon have a reputation, and no young man, how handsome and willing he might be, will be as much as seen with you, no less go anywhere alone, for fear of getting the same reputation.”

He could see he had made an impression on Sebastian, who seemed to seriously think about his words.

“Most people don't have the money and influence that allows you to ignore society's restrictions and even the law,” he continued. Most people also care what their families think about them, he thought, though he didn't say it. He was well aware that except for the unloved relatives of his mother, he was the only family Sebastian had. And considering, Sebastian could be pretty sure Blaine would not think any worse of him for whom he bedded.

“You make a good point,” Sebastian conceded. “I knew I would have to care about more things now than just where my next meal comes from, but I couldn't have foreseen anything like this.”

Blaine guessed that all the endless little rules of etiquette could be hard to remember when one hadn't grown up with them, but he thought that especially someone like Sebastian would consider other people's situation in life more than someone who had only ever moved in their own circle.

Then again, Sebastian had never claimed to be anything but selfish, and as an earl, he was at least in good company.

“So you will be more careful?” Blaine asked.

“I can try,” Sebastian replied,” but sometimes people get over-enthusiastic when they meet me. It's the charm, you know...”

He grinned, and Blaine couldn't help but smile. The charm was undeniably there, and if Sebastian managed to tone it down, he would be very successful in society.

“You must help my though.” Sebastian continued. “Maybe point me towards the right men. If I am to be discreet, I don't know how to find someone.”

Find someone you admire, Blaine thought, someone who is smart and funny and in whose arms you forget the time and the world around you.

“Someone for the night, I mean. I'm not asking for anything more,” Sebastian said. “I don't believe in love—see where it got my mother. And even if I did—men like us can hardly ask for love, can we?”

Blaine thought that maybe they could. Maybe he did.

[dreamerfae]

The Duke and His Duchess

Summary: Kaneki needs an heir to continue his bloodline but he'd rather choose a village girl over other ladies, and that would be Kirishima Touka.

Word Count: 11,000

Rating: M18

Genre: Alternate Universe

Notes: This story is situated in 19th Century, England, where men are higher than women in rank. Kaneki Ken is a duke, who lives in a huge mansion with his butler & best friend, Hide, and his servants. Touka is a normal village girl. Kaneki is black reaper personality and appearance here.

--

"Hide. Bring me the files from Yuil Village." Kaneki ordered and Hide quickly did so, putting the files onto the male's desk.

As Ken started reading the files, Hide stared at him quietly. "Aren't you gonna get an heir?"

His grey eyes shot up to meet Hide's with a glare. "What?"

"I mean, you're the heir to your father and the responsibility falls on your shoulders to create another heir after you. Want me to help you find a woman?" He asked casually.

Kaneki sighed. "You know I hate women, after what happened to my parents and Rize."

"I know. It's just..your dad will be sad if you don't do this. Take it as you're doing this for him?"

He stopped to ponder, eyes focusing on the documents on his desk. What his best friend said also made sense because he was already 25 and not getting younger, and needed an heir to continue the bloodline.

But he would be so worried. What if his son gets a mother who didn't love him like Ken's mother didn't? What if his son grew up and gets fooled by another woman, just like he was? There was one more thing to be worried about.

What if the child was a daughter? It'd mean that he had to mate with the woman once more to gain a boy heir and that would be the worst thing to happen to him--someone who sees women as the worst creatures on earth.

He weighed the pros and cons. The pros were that if he were to have an heir, the bloodline would be continued and his money wouldn't go to his useless cousin who barely does any shit in maintaining the land that they owned. His father would also be able to rest in peace, as Hide had mentioned.

The cons were that he had to embrace a woman he knew he would never love, and he would be disgusted in performing the act in conceiving a child. It would be utterly uncomfortable for him.

Gritting his teeth, he decided that the pros outweighed the cons and he had to ignore the disadvantages to reap better rewards. He was a businessman and the reward is always more important than the process.

"Fine. Find me a woman who fits these conditions: (1) she must be able to bear a child, (2) she must be pretty so our son will have our genes, (3) she must not be a money-grubber. You have 3 days to do this."

"Roger!"

--

3 days later, Hide returned with a stack of papers and dumped them on Kaneki's desk. Wiping the sweat off his brow, Hide puffed his chest out and had a stupid grin on his face. "I've done my job! Look through and let me know if you're interested in any of them!"

Flipping through the stack of papers, Kaneki only spent 1 second on each of them before moving onto the next. Within 2 minutes, he was done and threw everything into the dustbin. Hide gawked in horror before turning to his master. "Why'd you do that?! I spent my last 3 days finding those women!"

Kaneki gave a deadpanned expression. "Are you blind? They're all ugly. Find someone better."

Hide sulked. "Those are the women leftover from your conditions! How do you expect me to find anyone else who is the same as your position?"

"I said to find someone. I don't care who it is, be it royalty or commoner."

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, Hide walked out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Kaneki smiled, only Hide dared to treat him in this manner. If anyone else did, he'd fire them on the spot. But he'd always close one eye since Hide had always been by his side and never left even when his parents did.

Another few days later, Hide returned and dropped another stack of papers on the table. They seem lesser than the last time but better than none. Kaneki quickly scanned through them as he listened to Hide's words. "I searched the nearby villages and found some pretty girls. If you don't like any of them, I can't help you anymore, brother."

Tossing paper after paper into the dustbin, he ended up on the last piece of paper. It showed a female with short violet hair whose bangs covered half of her face and had blue eyes. He paused for a few seconds just scrutinizing the woman's face before looking up at his butler. "I decided. This woman."

"Oh, that one. I forgot to throw it away. She's no good."

Reaching over for the paper, Hide tried to take it but Kaneki refused to let it out of his hands. "Why is she no good?"

Hide sighed heavily. "You just had to choose the worst woman possible. She has a fiery temper and her family's quite poor so it'll mean she'd go for the money. Besides, she ain't pretty. Not my type. I prefer cheerful girls."

"I'm the one who's getting an heir, not you. I decide who's pretty or not." He snapped and stared at her photo. Having a fiery temper was no problem, he was quite good at controlling people but the money part was the problem. But if he didn't choose her now, he'd have no other choices. She also seemed to have quite the beautiful face, way better than all the other ladies he's seen.

He decided. He'll have her.

"Write her a letter and offer her an agreement where in exchange for her body, I'll give her this amount of money." Kaneki scribbled on a paper and held it up for Hide to see. The man nodded and rushed off.

The letter was delivered the next day and they waited, waited, waited but a reply never came. When Kaneki asked Hide whether it was really delivered to her directly by him, Hide had insisted that it was. They chose to wait another few days until he lost his patience and took his horse to go down to the village itself to find her.

He dismounted from his horse outside her house and knocked on the door. It soon opened and he was glad that it was her. Clearing his throat, he stared into her eyes and began, "I believe you received a letter from Duke Kaneki a week ago? May I ask why there isn't any reply yet?"

"Oh that? I thought it was a prank and threw it away." Touka said nonchalantly.

He felt his veins pop out in anger and tried to stop himself from lashing out at her. "I am Duke Kaneki and I wish to hear your answer. You need money, do you not? As I can see from your house—I mean, hut—and your torn and tattered clothes, I believe this deal won't be a disadvantage for you."

She chewed her lip as she pondered over his words. "How much did you say you'd pay me again?"

"$500 per day. If you're able to get pregnant within 2 weeks, I'll give you an extra $300."

$500 was 10 times of her wage per day. Even if she gave her 1000% at her current work, she would never be able to get that amount of money this duke was offering her. By the end of the week, she would get $3500 instead of her current $350.

One part of her was warning her not to sell her body like some prostitute, but another part of her was telling her to take the job because honestly, they needed the money. Although Ayato was working many jobs to help earn money to pay their house rent, food and for their father's treatment, it still wasn't enough. They needed so much more because their father's treatment was so expensive and they couldn't afford it.

"Deal. What do I have to do?"

He shook her hand and smiled. "You just need to lie on the bed and do nothing. I look forward to a good deal with you."

—

Kaneki suggested for her to stay at his mansion so that it would be more convenient for both of them. For her, it meant that she wouldn't need to go back and forth between both houses, and for him, so he can easily get access to her. Touka was hesitant at first, because it would mean that she wouldn't be able to take care of her father every day like before, but slowly got around to the idea when he mentioned that he would let her go back to her home anytime she wanted, as long as she returned by night.

She didn't know what to think of the guy, seeing as he never smiles, nor talk with emotion. He's never happy, sad, disappointed or angry. Just neutral. He almost seemed to maintain a certain distance from her when he explained the terms of their agreement.

"So what I'm offering in exchange for a child is the money I've mentioned earlier and your freedom as soon as the child is born. You would not need to stay here or take care of the child. It will be my responsibility. You can resume your life as per normal."

"I won't be able to see my child?" Touka asked.

"Of course I can't forbid you from doing so but please bear in mind that I intend to tell the public that you died in an accident somewhere to make it simpler, so after the child reaches a certain age, you can't see him anymore."

Another question popped in her mind. "What if it's a girl?"

"..then we will try until it's a boy. I will, of course, take care of her. You don't need to worry about that."

"Alright." For now, she didn't have any other questions and leaned back against the most comfortable armchair she has ever sat in. She stared down at the floor and wondered whether she was doing the right thing. She hasn't told her family anything about this either. There was still the thing about the scar behind her bangs. She was afraid of his reaction to it.

Kaneki leaned forward to rest his elbows on his thighs and clasped his hands together. "I can see that you're still hesitating about this so please think about this carefully. You're not allowed to back out of this deal if you've decided to commit to it because it would mean that I've wasted my time in bed with you and my money. On the other hand, if you have decided on committing to this, I promise I will take care of everything. I will provide you shelter, food, new clothes, and a bedroom."

After a short 5 minutes of debating whether she should or should not do it, Touka decided to agree. He then quickly sent out instructions for her belongings to be moved into his house, arranged a bedroom and a bath for her. Though she was alone in the dining table, she ate the fanciest and most delicious dinner in her entire life and night soon fell.

She retired to her room and allowed the maid who was assigned to her to change her into the nightdress that Kaneki provided. It was a lacy midnight blue lingerie dress and translucent but thankfully it came with a robe and she held it close to her chest in an attempt to cover her exposed skin.

Settling down onto the bay window, she stared out at the bright moon through the large window panes and heard the door open and close. Without even turning, she knew it was him, from the strong scent of his cologne and menacing presence. Touka raised her head and locked eyes with his lifeless ones which seemed to have given up on everything.

Standing up, she attempted to remove his tie, but he stepped back and held up a hand to her. "Stop. Don't touch me. I have some rules I would like to go over before we start. First, you're not to wrap your arms around me or touch me in any way. Secondly, no kissing. Thirdly, I will not sleep in the same bed as you once we're done for the night."

Touka thought it was normal for men to want women to touch them while they're doing the deed but he was..abnormal. While she knew the third rule was reasonable since they weren't lovers, she didn't understand the first two. "And may I ask why you gave the first two rules?"

His eyes narrowed at her and suddenly his voice was louder. "Lastly, no asking any questions. None at all."

She wanted to call him out for being this rude to her because she could just walk out of this room at any time, but held it in. The money was a huge sum, one that she would never get even if she worked till she died and she needed it.

"Shall we get to it then?" He asked.

"Wait. I have one rule of my own."

His head tilted up. "Speak."

"You must promise to never lift my bangs or attempt to see what's behind them." She said, voice shaking.

He raised his brow. "Deal. Let's get started then."

"..okay."

Touka expected her first time to be done with passion and love. But it didn't happen. He roughly pushed her onto the bed, made her get on her knees and hands and took her from behind. The way he slammed into her without mercy, without even letting her rest for a second, brought tears to her eyes as the pain shot through her. She refused to let him see her cry and balled up the bedsheets in her hands.

Abiding by his rules, she did not make an effort to kiss nor touch him, and neither did he. It soon came to an end when she felt a foreign liquid fill her and he pulled out of her. She collapsed forward onto the bed and just laid there lifelessly. Her virginity was just taken like that and she knew she would never get it back.

At the corner of her eyes, Touka watched the male quickly put on his clothes before fishing something from his jacket. Throwing an envelope filled with money bills in front of her face, he stared down at her with no emotion whatsoever and said, "your payment." He then quit the room and slammed the door behind him.

She curled up into a ball and cried herself to sleep.

—

Plopping down onto his own bed, Kaneki ran his hand through his sweat-filled black hair and frowned. Though she was trying to hide it, he could see that it was painful for her and she was crying. He berated himself for taking her like a beast would and not having done it more gently. He remembered how her face contorted in pain when he slammed into her, and how her fingers had curled into fists so tightly until they turned white.

He snapped out of his thoughts by shaking his head and headed to the bathroom for a bath.

—

The next morning, she didn't go down for breakfast. Even if she knew the food would be delicious, she had no appetite to eat. After last night with that monster, she didn't want to see his face nor hear his voice. He had treated her as if she were a prostitute, throwing her money and tossing her aside once the deed was done. Her hands closed into fists and she gritted her teeth.

If she had the opportunity, she wanted to give him a good punch. It wouldn't hurt him to treat her a little nicer. But she slowly uncurled her fists and closed her eyes. This was what she has chosen. Getting money by selling her body. She had to bear with it, and until she has given birth to his child, she would continue to receive this unfair treatment.

Kaneki visited her room again that night but instead of going to her immediately, he remained just behind the door he closed and only stared at her.

"What are you staring at. Let's get this over and done with." Touka mumbled.

He watched as she limped her way over to her bed and sat down on it. As he thought, he was too rough on her the previous night. He mentally pondered on whether he should do it gentler this time. What if she cries again?

The thought of seeing a woman's tears infuriated him because it was the exact same thing his previous lover did in an attempt to cheat him of his money. Women would do anything to get money on their hands, even if they had to cry or sell themselves, which Touka did the latter and he despises women for that.

But then he decided to test her. He would repeat the same thing the previous night and watch if she shows her tears to him or not. If she does, he would know that she's a woman who only wants the money. If she doesn't..she's probably someone who needs the money. There's another factor on which he could tell what kind of woman she was, but he would save it for later when he actually does it.

After the deed was done, he took the bills out of the envelope and threw them into the air. It was the other factor he would judge her on whether she was a money grubber. The notes flew all over the place before slowly landing on the floor. He then pretended to leave the room by opening and closing the door and quietly stood in a dark corner of the room to watch her actions.

Touka didn't make a move at first, only staring at the money on the floor and slowly got to her feet. She fell to the floor after taking only one step, her body still weak and sore, and she started picking up the money. Instead of doing the action happily like a woman who wanted and loved the money, she did in a way that seemed like she was so miserable even when the money was right in front of her. Tears brimmed in her eyes which dropped down her cheeks and onto the money.

After watching her take all of the money off the floor and cry herself to sleep, he concluded that she was not a woman who's sleeping with him because she wanted the money, but because she needed it. In other words, she may not be like Kamishiro Rize, his ex-lover, who cheated him of his money, making him hate women even more after what his mother did.

He might need to observe her further to gain a better understanding of her character, but for now, he decided he didn't need to keep his guard up so high now with her.

—

The next day, after dropping by her house to check on her father and pass them the money she earned, Touka returned to the mansion and decided to explore since she still had many hours left till nightfall. The mansion was huge, having over 20 rooms and she knew it would take her forever to finish walking the whole place.

Before she could start, she encountered Kaneki's butler, Hideyoshi Nagachika, who grinned at her. "Good afternoon!"

"Good afternoon." She greeted.

A thought suddenly popped in her mind. If Hide is Kaneki's butler, then he must know plenty of things. "Can I ask you why Kaneki's such an asshole?"

Hide's eyes widened at the sudden question and he laughed until he started crying. "That's a nice question." His expression then turned into a serious one, which made her straighten up. "He had a very rough childhood and the bad memories of it stayed with him till today. Even if he's an asshole, bear with him. He's still hurt on the inside."

"What happened?"

"It's not in my place to tell you. I think it's best if you heard it from him yourself. Only if he's willing to. He refuses to do that but I believe if he does let someone into his heart, he would heal."

With that, Hide walked off, leaving Touka with a million questions in her head. But she tossed them to the back of his mind and her eyes zoomed in on the room with 2 doors. Opening the doors, she poked her head in the gap and peeked inside. It was the library. She sighed. She didn't like books. Nevertheless, she would take a walk around because she had nothing better to do anyway. Entering quietly, she closed the door behind her and walked by the huge shelves filled to the brim with books on both sides of her.

She scanned for a particular book but frowned when she only found business or literature related books. Walking to the end, she saw a walkway leading to the left and followed it. Soon, she encountered the devil himself, aka Kaneki Ken, who sat behind a desk with a mountain high of paperwork in front of him. He was so engrossed in his work, writing on and reading his papers that he didn't notice her.

Without noticing, she hit her foot into the bookshelf and let out a groan. His head shot up, his hand stopped writing and he narrowed his eyes at her. "How long have you been there? Who said you could come in?"

Touka winced from the burning sensation of her toe and looked at him. "I've been here in for 15 minutes or so. If you don't want me here, then I'll leave."

"No. You can stay."

She was surprised by his answer, to say the least. Then, she looked over the bookshelves in an attempt to find the book she wanted. Kaneki watched her sigh heavily and tilt her head down before continuing to write. "What book are you looking for?"

"A picture book." She answered. "But I see that you don't read picture books. The books here are all boring ones."

He shot her an incredulous look. "Of course. Picture books are for children. What book do you want? I'll tell my butler so he can buy it for you."

"..why are you doing this for me?" She asked.

"Since we are in a contract, I have the responsibility in taking care of your health, well-being, and desires."

"Well then... could I get 'The Ugly Duckling'?"

"Why that book?"

A sorrow-filled expression fell over her delicate features and her gaze softened, though sad. "It was the last book my mother read for me before she died."

"Does that book have anything to do with the condition you gave me?" He asked.

You must promise to never lift my bangs or attempt to see what's behind them.

She nodded, answering his question. "I have a horrible scar behind these bangs and it always scared people from my village away. She often read the book for me and told me that one day I would find someone who accepted my scar." She didn't know but she started talking more about her mother. "Then, when a fire broke out at my house, she took out everyone out of the house and got herself trapped inside. She broke her leg and I watched her die in that fire--" Touka realized that she was crying at this point and covered her mouth in an attempt to soften her sobs. She apologized and quickly turned to leave the room.

Kaneki remained in his seat and tapped his fingers on his desk. Seeing her cry gave him mixed feelings and he didn't know whether he should go to comfort her or ignore her. Then, he decided to hell with it as he cursed under his breath and stood up. Even if he tried to be a cold-hearted and a mean person to protect himself after what happened with his mother and ex-lover, the caring personality he had as a young man still remained in him.

--

Closing the bedroom door behind her, Touka threw herself onto the bed and cried into the mattress. Her mother had been such a big part of her life and to see her just pass away in front of her eyes was heartbreaking. Oh, how she missed her mother dearly.

She twitched at the sound of the door clicking open and close and she turned to look at Kaneki who stood beside her bed. It seemed as if he were mentally deciding on what to do as his eyes looked to the floor, darted up to her, then to the floor again. His knees dipped into the mattress and she soon found herself enveloped in his arms.

It's been a long time since he's ever embraced someone like this and he just realized that he didn't know how to comfort a person.

"...I'll be here."

Those 3 simple words were enough to throw away the initial shock Touka had from him hugging her and made her burst into tears, wrap her arms around his torso tightly and bury her face into his broad chest. They slowly lowered down onto the soft mattress, with Touka crying in Kaneki's arms until she fell asleep.

—

Touka awoke a few hours later and dragged herself to dinner after washing up her horrible face. She then sat at her dressing table whilst combing her hair and thought about how she should face Kaneki later at night. He had been so kind as to hold her as she wept earlier on, and she didn't know how to feel about that. He was an asshole but at that time, he was caring.

But she knew that his warm arms gave her the most comfort she's ever had in a very long time. The last was when her father held her, but he hasn't done that in a long time since he fell sick.

She waited and waited, but Kaneki never came to her bed.

Meanwhile, he was in his room, arms rested over the balcony's barrier and stared up at the full moon. His mind replayed how he held the weeping female in his arms, and how she had told him everything about her kind mother.

He then recalled how at one point when he was a young boy, his mother had truly loved him and treated him well. Back then, she often sat him in her lap and read storybooks to him. If he were to able to read a new word, she would grin widely and pat on him on the head, telling him that he did a good job. He closed his eyes and a rare smile graced his lips. He had to thank her for letting him remember something good about his mother.

The door clicked open and he turned to see Touka walking towards him. She stepped into the balcony, where he was and was soon only centimeters away from him. Looking up at him, her words got stuck in her throat as she saw how the moonlight reflected off his long eyelashes, making it shine and thought that it was beautiful how his grey eyes matched the large white moon, while his black hair matched the dark night sky behind him.

"Are we not...doing it today?" She asked softly.

His arm encircled her waist and pulled her flush against his body. With downcast eyes, he pressed his thumb against her soft lips. "You know, you shouldn't enter a man's room at night. He'll attack you."

She was entranced by his handsome features and the fact that he was giving her heart flutters as he ran his thumb across her lips, before cupping her cheek and twirling her hair in his fingers, that she couldn't find the words to say. Snapping out of her trance, she then snorted, to his amusement. "Our contract is that we sleep together at night. It's right that you attack me."

Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed her wrist, pulled her to his bed and threw her onto it before getting atop her. Her eyes went wide as she felt his hand go up her thigh, and one leg settling between hers. Kaneki lowered his head to suck the delicate skin of her neck and her chest after pulling down her robe.

"This is what it means to--" He pulled back and stopped at the sight of her fear-filled eyes. His aim was only to tease her so that she knew the dangers of enticing a male and scaring her was definitely not his intention.

Touka shoved him aside and ran out of his room. He was left alone and he stared down at the spot where she laid, feeling extremely guilty about what he did.

Slamming the door behind her, she felt her body warm and heart race at the memory of him touching her so intimately. While she knew that he was only demonstrating what he said, she was horrified at the fact that instead of feeling disgusted by his touch, she actually liked it and wanted him to continue.

But before it came to that, she had to separate from him. Willing for her crazy heart to calm down, she gripped the robe against her chest and took deep breaths. Kaneki didn't attempt to enter her room that night.

After that incident, Touka had tried to avoid Kaneki whenever possible. She never visited the library again and when she met him in the hallway, she would turn and run. Even at night where they were supposed to have their nightly activities, she would lock her door and not let him in.

Today was the 3rd day that she was doing this and Kaneki was irritated, annoyed—whatever emotion that was associated with anger—and couldn't stand it anymore. They had a contract and she was not fulfilling her part. So, he stomped to her door, banged on it with his fists and shouted, "open the door, dammit! It's been 3 days!"

From behind it, came an indignant shout.

"No!"

He gritted his teeth. "If you keep this up, I'll cancel the contract and you won't get any more money from me!"

Though it was a threat, he hoped that it wouldn't happen, as it would have wasted his time and money, he thought, pushing the idea of him actually enjoying her company far away from his logical mind. There was silence, then the door opened to reveal Touka with a frown. "Come in."

He stepped in and glared down at her, who looked away and seemed to be shrinking the longer he did so. She took a step backward and he followed with a step forward. Dropping his hand on her shoulder, her body flinched and he squeezed it tightly to prevent her from running away.

Through the thin cloth of the long dress he provided her, Kaneki could feel the warmth of her skin, which brought him back to that night where he touched her much more intimately than he usually did.

Despite his policy of never touching a woman like that again, he had done it to Touka. He wondered why he did that. Was wanting to warn her the only reason he did that or was there another reason? He was about to find out, as he pulled her to him by the waist and used the back of his hand to brush against her cheek.

Her cheeks turned red at his actions before her lovely blue eyes flickered up to his. "Are you going to repeat what you did 3 nights ago?" She asked.

His hand which has been playing with her hair paused and he smiled smugly. "Would you like me to?"

The female opened her mouth to answer but closed it, then opened it again. She seemed to have some difficulty in coming up with an answer and he decided to help her. Pushing her hair away from her neck, he kissed the sides of her neck and her hands on his chest turned into tiny fists. Her heart rate sped up as he pressed a kiss under her ear and inhaled her scent. "..You smell nice. Did you just have a bath?" He mumbled, lips moving to the other side of her neck.

Touka panted, body turning hot just like that night when he touched her but her shaking hands wouldn't let her push him away.

"W-why are you doing this? I thought you said you didn't want any physical contact between us. You told me on day 1!"

"Hmmm, yes I said that..." he murmured, one hand going down to cup her breast through her dress and the other hand squeezed her butt cheek. Touka moaned, pressing herself closer against him. He separated from her with a groan, feeling himself harden and took a good look at the female before him.

He recalled how the torn and tattered dress she had been wearing when they first met did not enhance her body, unlike this dress which he chose for her. This midnight blue dress showed off every single part of her beautiful body; from her slender shoulders and arms, her delightful cleavage, and the sexy curve of her hips.

Even if he swore to never fall for a woman's seduction again, he could not stop himself from being attracted to a woman's body and right now, he wanted to throw her onto the bed and do all kinds of things to her. He was still a man after all. He was met with her hand when he stepped towards her and he raised a brow. Her voice came out shaky, telling him that she was scared. "A-Answer my question."

Question? Ah.

"Did you know that you have a very sinful body? An attractive one that seduces a man? It's regrettable that I failed to notice earlier."

The grey eyes that roamed over her body were one of a predator's when they were deciding on which part of the prey to eat, and shivers went down her spine after realizing that he might just devour her.

"I-I did not ask for this body! Stay away!"

"And yet, it is this body that you have decided to use to earn money. Have you ever thought of earning more money by pleasing me?"

"What? No, don't be crazy! I'm not a prostitute!" She exclaimed.

He paused. "That's..unfortunate. But I will still expect you to uphold your part of the contract and sleep with me."

"Y-yes, I will. But it's still afternoon, isn't it? We only do it at night."

Kaneki looked to the clock that hung on the wall. It was nearing evening time. "It's going to be night. We only do it at night." He repeated her words with a smirk, pushing her down onto the bed.

"H-hey! Stop it!" Touka protested, but she couldn't form any more words after that as he pressed his hungry lips to hers.

—

Laying naked in bed after their vigorous yet sensual sex, he stared up at the ceiling as he came to a conclusion that he was attracted to her body, not her personality itself, and that's why he wanted to touch her. Definitely not because he was interested in her, nor because wanted to feel a female's soft and warm skin on his after many years. Definitely not.

He's usually very talkative after sex and he had forgotten that fact that he didn't think before opening his mouth.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were a virgin before I bedded you?" He asked, cursing himself internally because he couldn't take back the question.

Touka froze in putting on her bra and looked down. "I didn't want your pity. I wanted to do this. Even though it's a shitty job and one that makes me feel shameless, I still needed the money."

"And why do you need so much money?"

She remained silent and continue putting on her clothes.

"It's fine if you don't want to tell me." Kaneki sat up in bed and started pulling his clothes on as well.

The two clothed themselves in silence, with their backs facing one another.

"Hey, if I increase the number of times I do it with you, will I get more money?"

He blinked. "Of course."

From that day on, Touka jumped on him at every single chance she saw him since he promised that he would pay her by the number of times they do it. If she has sex with him once a day, she gets $500. If she has sex with him twice a day, she gets $1000. They have done it in the corridor, the bathroom, the library, and pretty much anywhere they run into each other. Though it makes her sore and extremely exhausted, the money she was paid was worth it.

Ironically, even though this contract was the one that made them have bad impressions of one another, it also served as an opportunity for them to bond, where after doing the deed, they lay in bed and talk about trivial things. Somewhere along the way, they started looking forward to spending time in each other's company.

After a week of interacting with Kaneki, Touka could tell that even though he acts tough and cold, he's actually a very nice and kind person deep down. It's in the way he treats animals kindly, and the way he talks and looks at her. The eyes which were once cold slowly warmed up and now, he smiles and laughs more often. She could also feel it in the way he caresses her cheek, kisses her skin and rests his hand protectively over her waist.

And she fell in love with him unknowingly.

In the short time he has spent with Touka, Kaneki was slowly opening up to her, talking to her about his work and some other stuff but he would never touch on the topic of his family. It seemed that she noticed and did not pursue the matter which he was grateful for. He enjoyed their time together because it helped relieve his daily work stress and the big hole of loneliness inside him—which he isn't aware of—and assumes that he likes her company because she's fun to be with and likes listening to her stories. Without knowing, he had developed feelings for her.

As he lay in bed with her one night, he's suddenly reminded of the fact that the time that they currently have will eventually disappear when she gets with his child. After it happens, they would separate, he would take the child, and she would return to her village and continue her life as per normal. The thought of it pierced his heart painfully and he wished for more time with her.

For now, he would cherish the remaining time left with her.

Until one fateful night, it happened.

It was when Touka decided that it was time for him to talk about his family. Unlike the last time she asked which made her stop when he got angry, this time she was persistent.

"You can tell me. Maybe I can find some way to help you." Touka said, cupping his cheek.

Kaneki's smile turned into a scowl and he jerked his head away. "You can't. Drop the subject."

She frowned. "Kaneki, I want to help you. I don't want you to be suffering with me not knowing a single thing. I need to know so I can help you. Please."

"I said drop it, Touka." He ordered menacingly but she didn't seem scared at all by his glare.

"Okay. I have a hard life—a tough life even, but I don't let it pull me down. But you are living in the past and not in the present nor the future. Whatever happened with your family is in the past, you need to let it go."

He ignored her words and left the bed to get dressed.

"Oh, come on! It can't be that bad!"

That is when the thread of his patience snapped and he's enraged. With a fiery gaze at her and the way his brows furrowed down, she could tell that he was angry. "Can't be that bad?! Who are you to assume you know everything about me and my family?! We've only known each other for 2 months and we've basically strangers!"

Looking at him, she could see him reverting to the asshole she met on day one. Instead of warm eyes, she saw hard and cold eyes. His voice also reverted to his old emotionless one, not his soothing one.

Kaneki was furious. He doesn't remember being this angry ever since the day his mother and ex-lover left him. But he didn't know that the next few sentences that come out of his mouth would hurt her feelings so deeply.

"You're just a prostitute who sleeps with people for money! You're nobody to me! And in case you didn't know, the past 2 months meant nothing to me! You were only a tool to get me an heir. If you understand, then get out!" He roared.

Touka raised her head, tears falling down her cheeks and a sorrowful smile hung from her lips. "Is that so?"

The male gaped in horror, eyes widening as he watched her futile attempts in wiping the tears that seemed to be falling non-stop. She put on her clothes quietly and then proceeded to pack up her luggage. Before she left the room, she glanced one last time back at him who still remained frozen at his spot.

"You know, I think I might have fallen in love with you in the 2 months we spent together. It's sad that it's come to this but I just want you to know that I love you. Goodbye, Kaneki."

With that, she walked out of that door and out of his life forever.

—

After calming himself down, Kaneki did some soul-searching and regretted immensely the words he spoke to her in his angered state. Why, when he knew she needed the money for a reason, and yet still used that to hurt her? For the first time ever, he saw himself as an asshole and a horrible person.

—

Touka returned home in tears and when her brother and father asked the reason, she would shake her head and say that it's nothing. As soon as she reached her room, she tossed her bag to the floor and dropped herself onto her tiny bed. The tears in her eyes seeped into the sheets, and she didn't stop weeping until she fell asleep.

“Look, I don’t know what you said or did to Ms Kirishima, but I know it’s definitely your fault.” Hide said, pouring the earl grey tea into a teacup before placing it down onto Kaneki’s desk. The male who had been covering his face with his hand for the past hour finally looked up at his butler with a glare.

“How would you know?”

“I’m your best friend and butler. Of course I know how hurtful you are with your words and sometimes you say things that you don’t even mean. Now what did you say to her? Let’s see if I can help you.” Hide asked.

Kaneki told him everything and watched his best friend’s face turn from neutral to horror. Grabbing a nearby book, Hide threw it at Kaneki, who narrowly avoided it as the book hit the window behind him with a loud thump. “Why’d you do that? I’m still your master!”

The blonde-haired male sighed heavily and slapped his hand on his face. “You’re freaking stupid, did you know that?! Why did you have to say that to her even when you know she needed the money? I feel sorry for her man, she was only trying to help you!”

“I was angry, alright? I regret it now.” Kaneki mumbled.

“So are you planning to just sit here and wait for her to come back to you? ‘Cause that’s definitely not happening.”

“I know! I’m thinking!”

“You’re damn hopeless, you know that? For the time being, put away your damn ego or pride or whatever you have, and go apologize to her. While you’re at it, do it with a bouquet of flowers.” Hide placed a hand on Ken’s shoulder and smiled, though it was a sad one. “Don’t run away from your past. I’m pretty sure part of her is angry and sad because you wouldn’t open up to her. Try doing it. It might make you feel better.”

Hide left the room, saying that he’d help him get the flowers while he used the time to think of the words to say to Touka when he met her. Kaneki bit his lower lip and squeezed his hands into fists. He didn’t know whether he was ready to tell her the truth.

But Hide was right. Apologizing came first, everything came after.

--

Gathering his courage and his flowers, Kaneki found himself in front of her house and swallowed. Raising his hand and knocking on the door, he held his breath as he heard footsteps then a loud ‘coming!’ from the person.

The person who opened was Touka again, thankfully, and she immediately slammed the door in his face before he could say anything. He thumped on the door with his fist, shouting her name and peeked into the house through the window beside the door. “Touka, please open up! I’m here to apologize!”

Throwing a glare his way, she walked up to him on the other side of the window and his heart soared when he thought that she’d open the door for him, but even the small hope was dashed as she pulled the curtains across the window. She did the same to every window and he had no choice but to leave the flowers on the ground outside her house and took his leave. He decided that he’d come by again tomorrow.

After watching him leave, Touka finally opened the door and frowned at the bouquet of roses outside. She picked it up and looked at the card attached to it. The card displayed the words ‘I’m sorry’ with an unhappy face beside it. She dumped the card into the bin first and hesitated to throw the roses. They did nothing wrong, she thought, as she brought them into the house and put them into a vase.

The next day, Kaneki returned with another type of flower and knocked on the door. She looked through the peek hole on the door and sighed heavily. Him again.

“Go away!” She yelled.

“I only want to talk.” He pleaded. “Please let me in.”

“No.”

And that was the last answer out of her for that day.

So, Kaneki continued visiting her house every single day without fail and it came to a point when she didn’t even bother to go to the door when she hears a knock. And every day, he would leave behind a different bouquet of flowers with the card attached to it.

This continued for 2 weeks until Ayato was so sick and tired of the house turning into a flower shop and told her to throw some of them out because he was allergic to flowers.

One day, when Kaneki was on the way to Touka’s house again, he happened to see someone—he assumes that is a doctor, judging from the white coat and bag full of medical supplies—exit the house with Touka following behind.

“Doctor, please treat my father! If he continues without medication, he’ll die! As for the money, I promise I’ll come up with it!”

The doctor shook his head with a frown. “I collect the money before I start treatment. If you do not have it, I will not treat your father.”

As the doctor turned to leave, Touka had to go down on her knees and hands. “Please! I beg you! I’ll do anything!” She begged.

To his dismay, the male ignored her and left. He watched her slowly stand up, grabbed the hem of her dress and bit her lower lip. The tears that fell down her cheeks pained his heart. So this was the reason why she needed so much money. Her father was ill, and it had to be a grave one if the doctor needed to collect money before treatment.

He gathered whatever money he had and ran up to her. “Here, use this for your father’s treatment.”

Touka slapped his hand away with a scowl and he could see pure hatred in her eyes when she looked at him. “I don’t need your money and pity. Go away.”

“Touka...”

She slammed the door behind her and after leaving the flowers outside her house, he returned to his mansion and ordered for his family doctor. The following day, another doctor visited her, one of which she has never seen before and knew that he didn’t belong to the village. He told her that he was here to treat her father and when she asked about the payment, he only smiled at her and informed her that he was already paid for her services.

She glanced back worriedly at her father who seemed to be getting weaker day by day and allowed the doctor in. Kaneki smiled as he watched from afar and took his leave.

As soon as the treatment was done for the day, the doctor would take his leave. This time, out of curiosity, Touka followed him, only to find the doctor receiving a stack of money bills from Kaneki.

Anger boiled within her. How dare he try to curry favor with her by doing this?! She almost walked up to scold him but couldn’t find it in herself to do it. It’s been 3 weeks since her father started receiving treatment and though he was still bedridden, his health was so much better than before. She also knew that if she refused Kaneki’s help, no other doctor would help them because they didn’t have the money to pay.

Though pissed, she’d bear with this, for her father.

--

At that time, she started feeling ill. She would wake up earlier in the mornings to vomit but nothing would come out and she would often have weird food cravings throughout the day. Her friend, Yoriko, who was still training to be a doctor, did a check-up for her and concluded that she was 2 months with child.

Now alone in her room, Touka rubbed a hand over her belly which was starting to show and didn’t know whether she should laugh or cry because she carried the child of the man she loved but didn’t have the financial means to take care of the child.

Being busy from making meals, doing housework and taking care of her father, Touka barely had time to think about Kaneki. The only time when she did was at night before she slept. She would lay in bed, stare up at the ceiling and think about the time where they’d lie in bed together, just kissing and talking about the most boring things, with his arms wrapped around her and lips on her head.

Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine that, and the tears just fell from her eyes without her noticing. He may be a rotten asshole, but she loved him and missed him dearly.

Being separated from Touka for months has taken a toll on Kaneki’s body. He hasn’t been able to sleep well and often found himself hallucinating about how she was in front of him in times when he wasn’t getting enough sleep. Hide had to feed him sleeping pills to make him sleep, and even so, he would always wake up in the middle of the night and walk around the house looking for her.

As a result, he gained large bags under his eyes, sunken cheeks and lost his appetite. All he wanted was to hold her in his arms and kiss those soft lips of hers. He decided that if he got her to forgive him, he would make sure that he would never ever let her go again.

“Have you realized why you’re behaving like this?” Hide asked one day and Kaneki snapped out of his daydream.

“What?”

“Haven’t you noticed that you also acted this way when Rize left you?”

He blinked once, then cocked his side to the side in confusion. “Yes? But it’s got nothing to do with Touka.”

The blonde-haired male sighed. “I swear it’s been too long since you’ve experienced this emotion. I’m telling you that you are in love with her!”

He stared blankly at his butler. “I…am?”

“Dammit, yes! You want her back because you miss her, because she makes you happy and because you can’t live without her!”

It took him a solid minute to let the fact sink in before his eyes widened and he stood up, startling Hide. “Yes, I love her!”

“Jesus! Then do something more than giving her flowers to get her back! Ambush her, kidnap her, do whatever you gotta do to make her forgive you! Do I have to spoon feed you everything?”

Kaneki placed a hand on his best friend’s shoulder with a smile. “Thank you.”

Hide’s jaw dropped open. It’s been years since he’s even spoken those 2 words.

--

Listening to Hide’s advice, Kaneki decided to ambush her. He heard from the doctor that Touka will be going for a walk with her family today and waited for her at her village park. He sat on the bench, planning out what he wanted to say while holding a bouquet of roses and quickly stood up when he saw them approaching his way.

Walking towards them, Touka noticed him and frowned. He took it as a good sign that she didn’t ask them to walk the other direction. He stopped in front of the family and while Ayato and Arata stared at him confusion, Touka’s gaze was deadly.

“Touka, can we talk for a bit? Please?” Kaneki pleaded.

She looked to her father who nodded, giving her permission and she went with him to another quieter part of the park. Making sure to stand a certain distance away from him, she glared at him and pointed an accusing index finger at him. “First things first, how dare you assign a doctor to tend to my father even after I’ve refused your money? I made it very clear that I didn’t need your money and pity.”

“I only wanted to help you. If I knew your father was sick, I would have given you more money during the contract.”

“That would mean you’re pitying me. I don’t want or need it, especially from you.”

“Touka, I—” He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away, to his disappointment. He withdrew his hand and looked at her. “I’m sorry for doing that secretly. I only wanted to make it up to you. And I’m so sorry for what I said that night. Although this sounds like an excuse, I was angry at that time at you prying into my matters and I said things that shouldn’t have been said and hurt you. I know you were just trying to help me, and I pushed you away. For that, I’m sorry. I’m willing to do anything you ask of me and tell you everything about my past as long as you would forgive me.”

She could tell from the look in his pleading eyes that he was speaking the truth, but she didn’t want to forgive him yet. It’d be too easy.

“Do you know how hurt I was when you said that to me? Aside from the prostitute thing, what I was really upset about was when you said that the time we spent together meant nothing to you.” She breathed, willing herself not to cry. “Even if it was a short 2 months, it meant something to me because I fell in love with you.”

He closed his eyes painfully. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“What was I to you? A tool? A prostitute? A sex buddy?”

Kaneki grabbed her by the waist and cupped her cheeks. “You are everything to me. My world. My universe. After you left, I regretted so much of what I did and said. Touka, I promise that if you forgive me, I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”

She shook her head. “That’s not enough. I need to hear those 3 words from you.”

He hesitated. The last time he said those words to Kamishiro Rize had caused him a lifetime of misery and resentment towards women.

Touka shoved him away and mumbled. “You’re not worth my time if you can’t even say the words.” She turned her back to him and he panicked. Now or never?

Now! He never ever wants to experience the feeling of despair and misery again. He needs her back.

“I love you!” He shouted. “I love you, Kirishima Touka!”

Tears brimmed in her eyes and she spun around, ran towards him and tackled him with a hug. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for those words!”

He wrapped his arms around her tightly and whispered, “I’m sorry I made you wait so long. Please give me another chance to love you.”

She nodded in tears.

When Kaneki asked for her to move back into the house with him, Touka didn’t want to because she wanted to spend time with her father now that he’s finally better and able to go outside. He wanted to respect her wishes and so, suggested for her to go to his house only twice or thrice a week. Though he wished to see her more often, he had promised to do anything for her after all.

Tonight was the first time in 2 months that she’s visited his house. After enjoying a delicious dinner at the large dining table with one another, they went to a room at the end of the hallway. It’s where they keep their old paintings. Kaneki unlocked the door with a key and held Touka’s hand. “I want to show you something. It’s about why I hate women so much.”

The serious expression on his face told her that this was something he did not share with others often and that it wasn’t a happy story. Before they entered the room, she pulled him down for a kiss and cupped his cheeks. “It’ll be okay.”

He flashed her a weak smile.

The room was barely maintained and extremely dusty, from the amount of coughing and sneezing they did when they entered, and he brought her to the corner of the room where a large painting covered by a piece of white cloth laid against the wall. Grabbing the cloth, he removed it to reveal a family of three, a black-haired male on the left, a black-haired female on the right, and in the middle was a small boy who resembled Kaneki.

“The male is my father, the female is my mother, and the child is me.”

--

“Mama! Read me a storybook!” Young Kaneki exclaimed, showing her a book.

His kind-hearted mother patted the boy on his head with a smile. “Sure, darling.”

She used to be nice and kind towards him. When he reached the age of 8 years, his mother started distancing herself from him and sometimes would look at him with disgust evident on her face, mumbling how he grew to look a lot of like his father. At 8 years old, he didn’t understand why his mother said those words and days after he asked his father why, he heard them arguing.

Fearing loud noises and shouting as a child, he hid in his room and covered his ears. Even so, he could hear the words they yelled at one another.

“What do you mean you married me for my money?!” His father shouted.

“I mean what I said. You were rich and stupid enough to fall for my seduction! I only wanted your money!”

His father seemed to pause in his words before his voice went soft. “Are you saying that our feelings were never once mutual? That I was the only one who loved you?”

“That’s right.”

From then on, Ken never saw his parents together. Eventually, they divorced, with his mother taking some of their money and abandoned Ken and Katsuo* by moving out of the house. He watched his father go from the energetic man he was, to a depressed man who barely even looked like he was living anymore. He then fell ill and passed away when Ken was only 12.

*Katsuo is Ken’s father’s name in this story.

At his father’s funeral and mourning period, his mother never once came to visit. His grief turned into hatred towards his mother. While he blamed her for everything, he also hated himself for being the one who started it by telling his father what his mother said.

--

“That isn’t all. While I was recovering from the pain, I became a young man aged 20 and fell in love with the wrong woman. Her name was Kamishiro Rize and I made the same mistake as my father. Soon after we got married, she told me lies about how her parents were sick and cried in front of me, begging me for money. Once I gave her the money, she disappeared the next day and I never saw her again. I swore off women after that.” He squeezed her hand.

“Oh, Kaneki.” She cupped his cheeks and gazed into his sorrowful eyes. “I promise I won’t do that to you. I won’t abandon you nor will I cheat you for your money.”

Kaneki placed his hand over hers. “I know, I trust you, Touka. But I’m afraid of the same thing happening again. I don’t want to ever experience that pain again.”

The female kissed him, and he pulled her close by the waist, hands shaking. “I belong to you, and you belong to me. I will never leave you for as long as I live, till death we do part.” She whispered.

“You did leave me 2 months ago though.”

“Seriously? That was your fault!” She chided, pinching his cheek.

He grinned and leaned his forehead against hers.

That night, they made love as if this was the first time they were doing this, and Kaneki took his time to carve his feelings for her in every kiss and caress. It was soon over, and they lay sated in each other’s arms.

Staring at the male who panted to regain his lost breath, Touka decided that it was the right time to tell him. “I’m pregnant.”

He froze then turned to her. “How long?”

“2 months.”

“...why didn’t you tell me before we went to bed?!” He quickly got up and touched her belly. “Did I hurt you? Is our child okay?”

Touka giggled, running her hand through his black hair. “Both the child and I are fine.”

Eyes crinkling from his grin, he moved up to kiss her and push the stray strands of her hair to the back. “I’m going to be a father. Thank you.”

“You won’t..take the child and throw me away right? That was our deal from the start.” She asked, some part of her still afraid of him forcefully separating her from the child.

“What? No, of course not! We’ll raise him or her together.”

He took the box off the bedside table and opened it. He hoped that his endless practices of proposing would be able to get a 'Yes' from her. “Touka, will you marry me and make me the happiest man in the world?”

The female sat up, clutching the blankets close to her chest. “You won’t be asking me to do that if you see my face scar.”

“It wouldn’t change my feelings for you.” He reached for her bangs to push them away, but she stopped him from doing so. He sighed. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll just tell you that I’ve already seen it.”

Her eyes widened and almost popped out of its sockets. “When?!”

“Once I saw it when you were asleep. Your bangs didn’t cover your scar. Though it surprised me at first, I didn’t find it disgusting or revolting. You still looked the same to me and I still love you.” Kaneki cupped her cheeks and tears filled her eyes.

“Y-You really mean that? Damn it, I’ve been crying too much recently, damn pregnancy hormones!” She sobbed, wiping her tears away as they fell continuously.

“I do,” he replied, thumbs wiping the tears away while laughing. “Will you marry me now?”

"Yes!"

Mom, you were right. I found someone who loves me for who I am.

The couple got married with Arata’s blessing and Touka moved into Kaneki’s house soon after. Despite the next 10 months being extremely hectic, with Touka’s frequent morning sicknesses, back pain, and swollen feet, Kaneki still thought of her as beautiful because throughout the pregnancy, she glowed and was very happy.

Their child then came into the world after a long 8 hours labor, and it was a girl. Kaneki kissed his wife’s sweaty forehead to thank her for a job well done and the two watched their baby daughter fuss in her mother’s arms.

“A girl… Her name will be Ichika.” The exhausted mother breathed.

“Yeah. She looks like you.” The new father smiled.

“Are you disappointed that it wasn’t a boy?” She asked and he shook his head.

“I will be happy with whatever child you give me, my Duchess.” He grinned.

Another 2 years later, Touka gave birth to a son and his name is Kou. The family of 4, together with Ayato and Arata, lived happily ever after.

[mihnn]

Hello! Sorry to bother you. can I ask for a recommendation? The only Kdrama I have watch it's boys over flowers. Could you recommend me one of the likes so I can get myself into this world? I keep staring at your gifts and just makes me wanna starts watching them.

Sure. And you’re not bothering me at all. :D So many recs…

Shows similar to Boys Over Flowers:

1. Coffee Prince - A tomboy is mistaken for a young man, but maintains the deception for the sake of employment. The situation becomes complicated when her male boss begins to develop feelings for this “boy” and vice versa.

2. The Heirs - Kim Tan is the heir to Empire Group who has been sent to study abroad in the U.S. In reality it’s a form of exile, as his elder half-brother back home schemes to take over the family business. While in the States, Kim Tan meets Cha Eun Sang, who arrived from Korea in search of her older sister. He feels himself falling for her, never realizing that she’s the daughter of his family’s housekeeper. When his fiancée Rachel Yoo arrives to bring him back to Korea, his heart is torn between love and duty.

Shows that are cute and fun with a lot of romance and friendship:

1. Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo - Bok Joo is a weightlifter who is pursuing her dream of winning the gold medal but she then finds romance for the first time in her life. While she is a woman who trains with heavy steel weights, she is also very feminine when it comes to relationships. To focus solely on weightlifting would jeopardize her relationship but leaving her weightlifting career for love would keep her from attaining her dreams. It covers their coming-of-age stories and relationships through hectic life.

2. Strong Woman Do Bong Soon - Do Bong Soon is a petite, unemployed woman who is honest and kind. She appears little and sweet on the outside, but she is in fact very, very strong. Ahn Min Hyuk, who holds a great distrust towards the police, witnessed the whole exchange of Bong Soon’s superhuman strength, and now wants to employ her as a bodyguard after being threatened by an unknown enemy. 

3. Shopping King Louie - The romantic comedy series “Shopaholic Louis” revolves around a handsome shopaholic named Louis, who is the successor of a vast business empire but becomes homeless after suffering from amnesia. Meanwhile, Koh Bok Shil, a country girl who lives a life that is worlds apart from the rich and famous, encounters Louis in Seoul.

4. Thirty But Seventeen - Woo Seo Ri, a violin prodigy at 17 who was about to study in Germany, got into a bus accident and fell into a coma waking up 13 years later. Mentally she is still only 17, while physically she is now 30.Due to a trauma he experienced 13 years before, Gong Woo Jin does not want to have a relationship with others.This series is about a man and a woman whose lives in their own ways essentially stopped when they were 17. Together, they use all their might to try and open the door to the happiness that they once thought had been closed to them.

5. My ID is Gangnam Beauty - This series tells the story of Kang Mi Rae, a girl once bullied for her looks. As a result, she became insecure, cautious around people and withdrawn. However, Mi Rae decides she wants a fresh start away from bullying and gets plastic surgery to transform her face. When she begins university, she meets Do Kyung Suk from their middle school days, who sees people for what they are on the inside and not the outside; he then becomes attracted to Kang Mi Rae.As Mi Rae begins to get teased once more and labeled “Gangnam Beauty”, the cold, aloof but kind inside Kyung Suk becomes the one person that stands up for her and in the process, Mi Rae begins to recover her lost confidence and discovers that true beauty is not on the outside.

6. What’s Wrong With Secretary Kim - The series revolves around the narcissistic Lee Young Joon, the vice president of a company run by his family. He is very self-absorbed and thinks highly of himself, so much that he barely acknowledges the people around him. Lee Young Joon has a capable and patient secretary in Kim Mi So who has remained by his side and worked diligently for 9 years without any romantic involvement. However, Mi So now want to set her life & focus on herself so when she decides to resign from her job, hilarious misunderstandings ensue.

7. Fight For My Way - Despite an increasingly hostile world, Ko Dong Man and Choi Ae Ra decide not to give up. No matter what others speak of them, they together make their own way to live a happy life.

8. She Was Pretty - As a young girl, Hye Jin was impossibly cute and had a comfortable life with her wealthy parents but since her teens, her looks and fortune changed abruptly and now she is living with her friend rent-free and working as a part-time clerk at a convenience store. One day, her childhood first love, Sung Joon, contacts her wishing to meet her, but recognizing Sung Joon has grown into a handsome and fit man, she quickly hatches a plan to have her pretty friend meet him in her place instead. After luckily landing a full-time job, Hye Jin is surprised to find Sung Joon as her boss, who is adding insult to injury, treating her with disdain and contempt.

EPICS with romance:

1. Goblin: The Lonely God - Kim Shin was once an unbeatable general in war who died a sad death. He now possesses immortality but is tired of living whilst everyone else around him dies. For 900 years, Kim Shin has searched for his bride, a mortal who can pull out the sword that binds him to the living. One day, he encounters Ji Eun Tak, a positive, upbeat high school student who can see the dead and has gone through tragic things, yet still stays strong. She claims to be the Goblin’s bride who can end his immortal life, but what appears to be an easy task only gets complicated as the two fall into requited love.

2. Mr. Sunshine - Mr. Sunshine centers on a young boy born into a house servant’s family and travels to the United States during the 1871 Shinmiyangyo (U.S. expedition to Korea). He returns to his homeland later as a U.S. marine officer. He meets and falls in love with an aristocrat’s daughter. At the same time, he discovers a plot by foreign forces to colonize Korea.

3. Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo - When a total eclipse of the sun takes place, a 21st century woman, Go Ha Jin, is transported back in time to the Goryeo Dynasty of Korea. She wakes up in the body of 16-year-old Hae Soo, an aristocrat living with Lady Hae, her cousin who happens to be married to one of the sons of King Taejo. She soon befriends several of the princes, who find her carefree and exuberant attitude refreshing. Although she knows she should not get involved in palace intrigues over the succession to the throne, she inadvertently becomes a pawn in the struggle, as several of the Princes fall in love with her.

4. Descendants of the Sun - Kang Mo Yeon is a pretty and assertive woman who works as a cardiothoracic surgeon at Haesung Hospital. She isn’t afraid to admit her mistakes and believes that capability overrides whatever connections you have. However, she is soon faced with reality that she cannot advance with just capability. Her life is forever changed when she encounters Yoo Si Jin, the Captain and team leader of Alpha Team who cares more about protecting anybody who needs help as well as his country, even if it goes against the order of his superiors. This drama will tell of how they both band together in a time of war and overcome the odds against them.

5. Memories of the Alhambra - Strong spirited Yoo Jin Woo is the CEO of an investment company with a degree in engineering and a knack for developing video games. He has an adventurous and competitive spirit. Suffering after his best friend betrays him, he takes a business trip to Granada, Spain in search of the mysterious inventor of an innovative augmented-reality  video game. He ends up at a hostel that Jung Hee Joo owns. They are both drawn into a series of strange and unexpected events.

Shows that focus on real relationships:

1. Something in the Rain - Yoon Jin Ah is a woman in her mid-30s who doesn’t know yet what it’s like to date a man. She’s been dumped by a man many times because of her clumsy, reckless, and foolish behavior. Just then, Joon Hee appears and he is Jin Ah’s childhood best friend’s younger brother, who used to live next door. Jin Ah has always remembered him as a little kid, but one day, he comes back as a man. When she is surprised by his change, her gut feeling tells her that she would truly fall in love this time.

2. Familiar Wife - Cha Joo Hyuk works at a bank and has been married to Seo Woo Jin for five years. When a strange incident happens one day, Joo Hyuk makes a decision that impacts his life and those around him in unexpected ways. Suddenly, the life he had with Woo Jin and his best friend, Yoon Joong Hoo are gone and he is leading a very different life.How will his first love, Lee Hee Won, factor into his new life? And will it be possible to get his old life back?

3. Encounter or Boyfriend - Cha Soo Hyun is the daughter of a politician who lives a  life where she is unable to choose her own path. After graduating from college, she entered into a loveless marriage with the son of a wealthy conglomerate, a marriage only beneficial to her politician father. She then gets divorced. Her life is changed further when she meets simple and kind Kim Jin Hyuk.

4. Matrimonial Chaos - Jo Seok Moo graduated from a prestigious university, but he pursued his dream of becoming a musician rather than finding a traditional job. Jo Seok Moo did not become a musician and because of his advanced age, he could not land a decent job. He then began working at a security service company. There, he met Kang Hwi Ru for the first time as his customer. They have been married for 3 years now, but Jo Seok Moo asks for a divorce. They do not have very much in common. Jo Seok Moo has a stubborn personality and enjoys spending time alone, while Kang Hwi Ru is easy-going and has a positive personality.Another married couple, Jin Yoo Young and Lee Jang Hyun appear. Jin Yoo Young is Jo Seok Moo’s first love.

Shows not focused on Romance:

1. Misaeng or Incomplete Life - Jang Geu Rae has played the game Go since he was a child. Playing the game was everything to him, but he failed to become a professional Go player. Now he’s been thrown out into the real world. When his gaming plans fail, the down-and-out Geu Rae is forced to get an office job as an intern thanks to an acquaintance’s recommendation for him to a large company called One International.

2. Live - The drama revolves around the incidents that occur in the police force and the joy, sorrow, and pain that police officers experience as they try to protect justice.

3. Argon - Kim Baek Jin is a popular anchor, reporter, and leader of investigative reporting program Argon. He does not tolerate unverified reports and requires facts he can personally stand behind.

4. Miss Hammurabi - Park Chao Reum is a newly appointed judge who is assigned to the 44th Civil Affairs Department at the Seoul Central District. She is always on the lookout for injustice and is able to profoundly empathize with others. Compared to her, Im Ba Reun is a cool-headed man of principle with the creed of ‘Court that is equal to all’, and he is displeased with junior judge Park Chao Reum who is overtly sympathetic when it comes to cases.

5. The Package - Yoon So So leaves on a trip to Europe with her boyfriend she met in college despite her parents’ disapproval, dreaming of a romantic journey. A few years later, her boyfriend heartlessly comes back to Korea alone, leaving So So behind. So So couldn’t help but start working as a tour guide in France to make a living. She leads a group of people traveling with the “Luxurious Premium Tour Package: 1 Week in France”.

These are just a few of the shows I love. There are many many MANY more, so feel free to ask. I know a few recs for law shows, assassins, murder/mystery, crack, so feel free to ask. I hope you enjoy your kdrama binge watch. Most of these can be found on Netflix.

P.S, - Added an update because I remembered a few more.

[fanesavin]

Later in the day following the Quiver, further discussions are had.

[ Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (x) | (x) Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 (x) (x) | Part 7 | Part 8  (x) | Part 9 (x) ]

@teddyaynesworth / @ianncardero / @mayaparker

Fane couldn’t say examining cadavers was a pastime that he saw himself participating in during his time in the Capitol, yet that was what his morning had consisted of. With Miguel’s assistance the body had been examined and a venom determined due to the distinctive markers that had become evident post-mortem. Not that it aided all too much in locating a culprit considering the origin of the snake was that of the High Raj’s homelands. Killed by something of his own origin. Poetic in some sense but a cruel way to pass. Following this, he’d ultimately been down to the prisons to watch the interrogation of Lady Lacroy’s assailant. His face was rather indistinguishable and he’d been hung from his arms for an extended period of time and the threat of worse had been enough for the truth to spill out of him. Fane wasn’t an overly cruel man, not above threatening the use of such devices but not sadistic enough to put them to use. The man was a simpering fool it transpired the plan one of his own design inspired by conversations he’d overheard in the Keep. House Kesley with their apparent designs and resolute stance against any and all agents of darkness. Fane grimaced as he recalled the house’s motto, For the People indeed. Things were… progressing he supposed.

There was one last thing to address. Explaining why he was back at his chambers, cleaning his hands of the grime from the dungeons waiting for his guards to bring Lady Parker to his attached viewing chamber. The very space she’d assured him that there were to be no more lies. Apparently another lie.

Maya had managed to to slip away in the chaos of the meeting’s end last night. She’d paced up and down her room, considering her options. In the morning, they’d be unlocking the gates, meaning she should be able to slip away and disappear into the night. She worried though that leaving would give the real murderer an all together too convenient scapegoat. No, this time she was going to have to stick it out. At least for a little while longer. In the morning, she did slip out though back into the city to get a read on how the common folk were reacting to the news. Unsurprisingly it was a mix with most everyone concerned about the prospect of war close again. She stopped to ask a blacksmith in the Lower City a few vague questions, hoping to find out more about how the crown’s mechanism might work. She couldn’t ask much though, not without revealing the rest of the truth. She returned to the castle before anyone could notice she was gone. Shortly after she returned she was hauled up to Lord Savin’s viewing chamber. “I can still walk,” she snapped as they dropped her off. She huffed before smoothing her skirts, tipping her chin up and walking into the room with the High Inquisitor.

Fane heard the knock before his men walked Maya into the room, and he took the time to make her strew while he dried his hands on a cloth set side the basin. Retrieving his signet ring and slipping it back on his finger he glanced at his appearance noting the sombre drawn features looking back at him. There was a touch of grey beginning to dust his beard, had that been there before? He couldn’t rightly say. Eight and thirty years and he was already beginning to look like his father before him. With everything apparently in order, he walked to the room where he’d made her wait a little while. “No, sir,is what I recall you saying to me yesterday when I asked if there was any further information I needed to be aware of,“ he stated as he shut the door behind him seeing no point beating about the bush.

Maya had expected Lord Savin to be in the room when she walked. He wasn’t. She checked her pocket to ensure that her stiletto was still there. It was better to be safe than sorry. She was forced to wait several minutes before Lord Savin appeared. Blood on his boots didn’t escape her study of him. "And no sir was the truth. My heritage wasn’t something you or anyone else here needed to be made aware of,” she said, dispensing with the usual courtesies.

Fane looked Maya up and down, the truth made a fair bit more sense of the way she behaved and acted. “No? Hm.” He couldn’t say he particularly agreed on that stance, “not even when that particular revelation rather undermined my authority and, rather effectively, I might add, left me looking the fool?”

“You’d have to take that up with the Red Priestess then,” Maya replied, “I had no intention of having my secrets and a tray of wine spilled everywhere last night. At any rate, it’s not relevant to the High Raj’s death or your investigation. I’d hardly spend nearly my entire life running from my title just to murder someone else for theirs now.”

Fane circled around to the front of his desk, leaning his weight to perch on the edge of it. “Perhaps not, but it isn’t hard to paint a picture with it.” Even if it wasn’t true, but that was what these people did, took your secrets and spun them into something so much more. “First you come and tell me that not only did you once work in the kitchens of a man that was poisoned, it now it becomes evident that you are heiress to a Kingdom? A fact you decided to keep to yourself that not only makes me look the fool for having you in my employ in such a fashion without knowing the truth, but equally gives you access to the castle swinging suspicion in your direction. How convenient that a long-lost heiress turns up right as a kingdom is going to ruin.” It wasn’t hard to spin a story, and Maya’s potential culpability innocent or no only weakened his already tenuous footing.

Maya shook her head. “I’m not an heiress. I have no interest in my parents’ crown or anyone else’s. Those things only ever get you killed or old before your time,” she said with a clear conviction. If she had wanted power, she would’ve gone back to Comeádai. Not a small percentage of the population wanted her there. “I apologize for the inconvenience of my birth and I understand if you need to dismiss me or imprison me until the real culprit is found. But if I did it all again, I would only hide the truth better.”

Fane had known Maya long enough to have some measure of her. But equally had he not also been wrong about her this whole time? It was a frustrating issue to face, “whether that’s true or not matters little, especially if someone is looking to shift their own cast of guilt.” Which was ultimately his point, neither of them were interested in power or the responsibility it brought about but equally were now put in the position that they had to deal with it. “Unfortunately, it would equally reflect badly to imprison you without much cause or reason presently… I do not believe you are responsible, but that doesn’t mean others might not consider the possibility. Neither can I let you leave until a culprit is found.” So what was he to do with her was the ultimate question.

Maya waited another moment after Lord Savin stopped speaking. “Then what do you intend to do with me?” she asked. Whether noble or servant at the moment she was still completely under his power, considering his temporary title. While she had no interest in a seat at the table, she might not have another choice. It wouldn’t be long until gossip spread through the castle and the servants no longer trusted her. She doubted though that any of the other nobles would have much interest in what she had to say either. Despite the title it placed upon her, the revelation of her true identity had left her rather powerless.

“That’s a good question,” and in all honesty he didn’t have an answer. Eventually he looked towards the window for a little while prior to his gaze returning to her, “help the investigation and maybe the council… If you don’t wish for a seat…” he pursed his lips, stroking his beard in thought “then act as one of my advisors. You’re smart and you have good instincts… that much I do know…” Might as well make use of them while they were in this situation.

Maya waited. She hated having her fate decided by someone else. The minute this was all over she would likely disappear again. After some time, Lord Savin asked her to be his advisor. She blinked once, surprised. It was not a small thing for him to continue to trust her or at least appear to. “I’ll be your advisor, sir,” she replied after she’d counseled her expression. “On that note, this morning, I spent some time down in the Upper City. Bron, if he’s to be believed the best blacksmith in any land, did the work to restore the crown. Although without the murderous part. His apprentice said that the Commander of the Golden Eagle dropped it off and picked it up.”

Fane wouldn’t go so far to say that he was putting his trust completely in her earlier points still to consider, but presently she wasn’t highest on his list of considerations. So the revelation of the next piece of information had Fane pausing, perhaps she would be useful after all. “So the mechanism was added after…” it wasn’t entirely new information but the crown went on tour almost immediately after it’s renovation… But if it was picked up and left by the Commander and considering the Golden Eagles had supposedly never let it leave their guard… He made a slightly frustrated noise, “then the question is where’s the window of opportunity? Unless the guards were bribed…”

Maya shook her head. “That I’m afraid I can’t answer. And any hope of my overhearing a drunk guard let something slip likely expired the minute gossip of my identity spread. Once it arrived in the Capitol though someone would’ve had to bribe at least six guards,” she said although she expected it was information Lord Savin already had. She paused before adding, “Or have convinced the Commander that the death of his lord was necessary.”

Fane had considered this already but it was the only answer at hand. “I don’t see any other way. I suppose we have a commander and some guards to investigate.”

Maya nodded, “I suppose you do, sir.” While he had yet to throw her out or in chains, she didn’t expect that he would want her present for any proper parts of the investigation.

Fane “Keep your eyes and ears open, see what else you can learn.” With that said he gave a nod of dismissal. He needed to speak to some of the others, to gain a measure of their view of the situation.

“It hardly seems prudent – or believable – that one single article of adornment could signify so much and create such havoc, does it?” Prelate Theodore appeared at Iann’s elbow, his grey habit switched out for a flat raven black coat of mourning. He inclined his dark head towards the throne and the bloodstained crown that sat upon it. “The well-laid and hard-earned plans of so many over so long, all brought to ashes in one terrible moment.”

The tall owl was back, after dealing with many matters concerning the commonfolk, and even his own clergy. Faith lost and hope found and all that, Iann supposed. The royals of the Forty Isles were not particularly religious, but the Cloverry was as good as any other religion, as far as Iann was concerned. Useful, convenient, accepted in Bluesprings. A good shorthand for being considered ‘good’ among the commonfolk and their ideals of belief. Iann stood in the Grand Hall, staring at the Sunlit Throne and the Guards surrounding it. The bloody crown placed back there as a symbol, now that the Inquisitor had completed his investigations on it. Even if he needed it again, it was not going to disappear within the Rajisthangard’s vigilance. “It’s an ugly crown, don’t you think?” Iann said, looking over at the other man. “Do you understand such things as beauty, Prelate? You see that metalwork - the craftsmanship is so very…Sharma. I understand that a High Raj always has a slight bias towards one’s House of course, but if only someone could’ve persuaded something with a bit more elegance and poetry. Not your persuasion, unfortunately. I suppose the Council that he was never able to announce was likely to be filled with grim birds like you.”

Prelate Theodore clasped his hands behind his back. “The very centermost tenet of faith is beauty, Your Highness. Otherwise most religions would have a dreadfully uphill task in appealing to the populace. Although conversely, some groups do appeal to an alternate but no less strong element when it comes to creating a reaction.” Theodore nodded at the Sunlit Throne. “Fear. Even if the crown had been wrought of Summerset ivorygold in the most intricate patterns of the Isles, it would still have performed the same slaughter, once devised.” The Prelate’s voice was gliding and genteely expressive, alighting on certain key words and making other, more dark suggestions as bland as possible. “It’s been my experience that a happy kingdom requires the efforts of grim birds such as myself.”

“Well said,” Iann said, stroking at his trimmed beard, then amended, “About the crown I mean, not the kingdom. I disagree with that, but then - I’ll soon be ascending my own Throne, soon.” If only his father died. He’d heard from the Mothers that the Cardero King was confined to his room now. Iann wanted to be pleased by it, but with the High Raj dead and the realm under an Inquisition, suddenly Iann found himself hoping that his father hung on for a little while more. “A clever device within it, I must say. As ugly as the crown is, its mode as a weapon is quite elegant. His death…was elegant.” Iann looked over at the Prelate. “Did you love him? As a High Raj. You can speak honestly to me, it makes no difference now that he’s dead. It wouldn’t be treason to say you did not, indeed, love him.”

“The tenor of rulership in the Forty Isles has always been of a sunnier nature than here in the mainland, true. But then, the war did not engulf you so wholly as it did the rest of us.” When it came to island nations, it could have gone either way; had the Cardero King allowed his Isles to be dependent on imports, they would have suffered far more than many mainlanders. As it was, the seafaring princes were able to procure whatever wasn’t produced on their own lands. Grimness perhaps did not carry to them the same shorthand for serious dedication that it did in the Cloverry and the Capital. “I’m afraid I haven’t much native sense when it comes to elegance,” the Prelate demurred, a claim put to lie by not only his clothing and bearing but his entire demeanour, “but still, I cannot bestow the word on the base slaughter of our High Raj. I did love him, yes.” Theodore’s eyes grew thin, a gimlet grey flash of intensity. “I loved what it was he represented. What he could have brought about. Does that surprise you, Prince? Were you hoping to catch the Cloverry out for hypocrisy or bloody-mined heartlessness?” Theodore almost sneered. “Or am I the one you’re trying to catch out?”

The imposed confinement of the city had made those within and without restless. The commoners either cowered in their homes, razed in the streets until the guards shut them down, or went about their lives as if their Raj had not just met the Light in a most violent manner. Though they only knew of a death. Not the manner. But now whispers arose all over the city. Whispers that floated here and there, of treachery and deceit. Of conspiracy and murder. She had adorned a dark set of robes in respect for the mandate of the city that the Raj be mourned, and found herself on the walkway with both the prince and the Prelate.

“I was curious on how the High Raj chose his Council. I suspect that all members of his Council were as loyal as you, then. I had no love for the Sharmas personally,” Iann proclaimed this loud and unafraid, but he wasn’t looking at the Prelate when he said it; he was staring right at the Rajisthangard, who did not make any eye contact in return. “But I did respect the Cloverry’s choice.” The Forty Isles was one of the kingdoms who had agreed that the Cloverry should make the decision for High Raj. “The Cloverry chose Avitej Sharma, and then Sharma chose to commission that crown for his coronation.” It was meant to be a crown that would rule for decades, but that was all gone now. A new High Raj needed to be chosen, and a new crown made. “And then that crown killed him. I wonder if the Inquisitor has the blacksmith hanging upside-down in the dungeons for this.”

“Don’t all crowns kill their wearers in the end, your grace?” the priestess asked quietly as she came up to the pair. “Though most usually last a fair bit longer than your dear Raj.”

Prelate Theodore described a short bow in the Red Priestess’ direction as she joined the conversation, continuing, “Sady true. And High Raj Sharma who was, rest his Spirit, had more awareness than most of the burden of the crown – seeing as he wore it through choice and not simply succession.” He drew a long breath. “I believe the Inquisitor’s investigations would be best conducted without overmuch communication between him and the work of the Quiver and the Council, at least for a time being. Whatever interrogations are being performed, and in what manner, they are – for the moment – the purview of Lord Savin.” Soon, there would need to be a meeting to share information. But Theodore didn’t believe that rushing things would be of any use to anybody.

“Hmph,” Iann said, since the Prelate was technically right - the Inquisition’s investigation was separate from the Quiver and Council, particularly since everyone was suspects. Iann looked over at the Red Priestess, giving her a nod of acknowledgement. He laughed then though. “How poetic would it be, if Inquisitor Savin himself was the Raj-killer?” He said this, even though Iann knew full well he was the one who’d proposed Savin resume his role in the first place.

“Inquisitor Savin is … blessedly … without the capacity for persistent duplicity that this deed required. I’d imagine he’s all too relieved to have some task to occupy himself with in the Capital rather than spending his time longing to be back in the North, away from parlay and politicking.” Theodore gave a thin smile. “He’s possibly the least likely suspect. You’ll have to find your poetry elsewhere, I’m afraid, Prince Iann.”

“You see, Prelate - this is why people don’t like you,” Iann said in an arch tone. “You always have an answer for everything.”

Prelate Theodore considered this critique. “I don’t know any poems,” he offered. “Although I could try, if you needed me to be more infuriating.”

The Prelate did that owlish blinking thing where Iann couldn’t quite tell if he was being genuine or not. It was infuriating, but not in a bad way. “Please, spare your tongue the assault. If the Cloverry is charged once more with picking a new High Raj, at least I know the person to appeal to. Namely - any other Prelate but you.” He gave a short, curt bow. “Wind to your sails, Prelate.”

 “Fleet be your feet, Prince.”

[myxcenterxstage]

v: This Royal Throne of Kings //  v: Diamond In The Rough

Author’s note: Why two verse names?? Well, surprise, surprise, amigos! Not only is Priscilla getting a spotlight in this verse, BUT SO ARE HER UNCLE THOMAS AND UNCLE CHARLES!

Author’s note II: TLDR; This also works as a fantasy / medieval / fairytale /disney AU! Priscilla’s story is like a combo of the Little Princess & Cinderella at her Uncle Henry’s residence... and meanwhile, (oblivious to what Pris is going through) Uncle Thomas & Uncle Charles are in another castle as Royal Advisors (to the king, crown prince and his brothers).

Author’s note III: This is the first time we get to see almost ALL of Priscilla’s family in one big verse, like wow! All it’s missing is cousin Emmett, and it’s everyone!

This was the House of Kimbleton, the children of Baronet Phillip and his wife Cecelia:

Henry, the eldest son, proud and imperious.

Charles, the second son, scholarly and restless.

Josephine, their only daughter, brave and compassionate.

Thomas, their youngest son, noble and principled.

There was a fourth son, the twin brother of Thomas, however, his name is never mentioned at the perennial grief of his untimely passing.

The Kimbleton children grew up and eventually dispersed. Henry succeeds his father as family Patriarch and parliament. Josephine - while still betrothed to a Duke in an arranged marriage - had eloped with a promising young Doctor. Charles and Thomas had both been called to arms - the former to the Army, and the latter the Navy.

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle… This precious stone set in the silver sea… -- King Richard, Shakespeare

Once upon a time, there were two brothers, and while they both bared the same resemblances and shared the same blood, they could not be more different from the other. Their names were Charles, the older brother, and Thomas, the younger.

And then this is when the narrator got lazy and decided to just bullet point the rest of their story:

Shortly after their brother Henry was married, Charles was set in an arranged marriage to an heiress. When they were married, Charles fell in love with his wife more than ever when they were courting and was a dutiful and faithful husband. Tragically she passed away a year later while still in her first trimester. After his wife’s passing, Charles refused any consideration of remarrying and focused his life around the sciences and wanderlust.

Later Charles entered the army and quickly rose in the ranks to be a Major General and accomplished Natural Historian.

Because during this time the Kimbleton family was in such upheaval with Thomas Sister Josephine’s elopement, Thomas wasn’t in any arranged marriages and had an unsuccessful love life.

(Tired of his mother’s pestering he should find a wife jkjk) Years later, Thomas entered the navy and equally became a medaled Rear Admiral and master strategist.

A war had emerged with a neighboring kingdom requiring both Land and Sea strength, so the King summoned the two brothers to join his highest ranking officers, and eventually earned the King’s closest trust.

After the war, the King brought the two brothers back to his court as trusted advisors.

Eventually, the King assigned the two brothers the position of Royal Advisors to the King’s young sons.

*insert drama here*

When I hear a command I obey But I know of a place Where no one can stand in my way On the wing of my fancy, I can fly anywhere and the world will open its arms to me

I'm a young Egyptian Princess or an Heiress I'm the greatest Prima Donna in Paris I'm a girl men go mad for love's a game I can play, with a cool and confident kind of air

In my daydreams, I can be whatever I want to be...

-- In my own little corner, Rodgers & Hammerstein (modified)

Once upon a time, in the House of Kimbleton, there was a beautiful maiden named Josephine. Josephine was raised as any of the nobles of the high court, but her heart was pure as gold. She cared not for the dainties and fanciful things which she was well acquainted with. She wanted to help others, to stand up for those who could not stand up for themselves, and aid those who could not aid themselves. And she did so. And in doing so she met the young doctor, Raleigh Duncan, who shared the same ambitions. Josephine and Raleigh fell in love. However, when Raleigh asked Baronet Phillip for Josephine’s hand in marriage, he was harshly declined, as Josephine’s father did not approve his only daughter to marry a commoner when the family had greater plans for her to marry a Duke.

Josephine was horrified. In indignation to never marry for convenience when she had true love already in her arms, she and Raleigh eloped to the countryside to be married under a peach tree.

And what a scandal was caused! Josephine’s father was outraged, and her mother did her best to keep the disgrace as hushed as possible from society. What made matters worse, was when Philip shortly after fell ill to fatal sickness. This arose Josephine’s eldest brother, Henry, to grew a dark bitterness in his heart towards his sister’s rebellion, wrongfully blaming her for the strain on their father’s health.

Josephine’s other brothers were too busy over land and sea to weigh many opinions, and Cecelia desperately tried to pacify the situation, but to none avail. Josephine’s father and Henry chose to disinherit her from the will.

When Philip untimely passed away, it was was the first time in years the House of Kimbleton has assembled again. The first time in years Cecelia and her sons were able to see Josephine again. Josephine arrived with both her husband Raleigh, and their infant daughter, Priscilla.

Years passed. Henry had become the new Patriarch, Charles now a Major General and renowned Naturalist, and Thomas a Rear Admiral and heralded strategist. Meanwhile, little Priscilla was growing up to be a bright and happy young girl by her loving parents, who were aiding all in need as best they could. But unfortunately, Josephine and Raleigh’s stories were cut short with their sudden disappearance. And little Priscilla was left to fend for herself in the world. But how could she? She was but a child. So when attempts at contacting her father’s side of the family were unsuccessful, she was brought under the custody of her grandmother, Cecelia.

After losing both her husband and daughter, Cecelia saw that little Priscilla was a diamond in the rough of this drama. Priscilla was raised as her grandmother had raised her mother - to be poised and sophisticated. Like a little princess. (Not that it was an easy task, mind you, given the young child was a countryside wildflower and had an untamable free spirit).

If only those years could have lasted longer. When Cecelia departed this world to join her husband, she left in her will that Priscilla should continue to be raised by her Henry - Cecelia’s only son who had offspring of his own. Pity Cecelia could not see her son’s smoldering bitterness towards his sister bled into his impression of his own niece.

When young Priscilla arrived at her Uncle Henry’s residence, she quickly came to realize that she was unwelcome. What was formerly thought as aloofness from Uncle Henry turned to intimidation. And even though Cecelia endowed Priscilla with the Kimbleton surname to give her an identity, Henry instructed that Priscilla was to be treated “...as the bastard child and charity case that she was.”

Life had changed overnight from the privilege and love her Grandmother had given, to the cold punishment of servitude from her Uncle. Priscilla slept in a tiny guest room at the furthest end of the house near the servants quarters, instructed separately from her cousins (Henry’s children, who also remained aloof), and not permitted to dine with them. She was at her cousins’ beck and call, even when they already had ladies in waiting. Ironic that when they had a houseful of flunkies and servants that Priscilla was declassed to such ranks, even against what was in her late Grandmother’s will.

Fortunately, things were not so terribly miserable for Priscilla. She found her due deserved respect and tender care from the household staff and her tutors. At least whenever Henry and his family left for holidays and Priscilla was left behind, the staff insisted that ‘Miss Priscilla Kimbleton’ be treated as the ’lady of the manor’ that she was. They knew what Henry was doing was wrong, even though they had to stand by silently and watch.

Not that Priscilla minded. As she adjusted from her bucolic life in the country to the life of nobility with her Grandmother, so she would adjust to this new lifestyle. She had her imagination, where she could be anyone, and anyplace. And someday, hopefully, someday, she would be able to escape and live the life that she always wanted to discover...

[suchadearie]

A Game of Hearts and Steel (14/?)

A/N: *throws glitter* Hello again I’m back how have y’all been... This time it’s been just 8 months since the last update, so I’m calling this progress!

Summary:  When her father, Lord Avon, gambles away Lady Belle’s virginity, she’s not amused. and Lord Gold, winner of this rather indignant prize, finds himself thrown out at a rapier’s point. But when it turns out that the shipping company he’s set his eyes on only comes with Lady Belle’s hand in marriage, he decides to overcome his hurt pride to obtain said company. But his attempts of courting Lady Belle are not as successful as he’d like them to be…

Rating: NC-17  (overall)

[Masterlist][Recent Updates]

Read on AO3

Thanks to @maplesyrupao3 for looking it over for me!

Belle had hardly been gone for an hour when a boy delivered a letter to Gold's doorstep. He was still in his room, looking out onto the garden while remembering her softness beneath his lips. Those five kisses had been the best kisses of his life, and if he never was to have another kiss of hers, he could still be happy to have had as much. When Dove knocked and brought him the envelope made of creamy paper, his name scrawled onto it in her unmistakable hand, his heart lurched into his throat.

"She can't be without my help for even five minutes, can she?" he quipped, trying to hide the wild beat of his pulse as he picked the letter up from the tray. Dove only raised his eyebrows, and Gold waved him away. He wanted to open her letter in privacy, free from Dove's judging scrutiny. Turning towards the window again, he waited for the click of the door that indicated Dove's exit, tipping the envelope against his lips and inhaling its scent. Much like a fool in love, he had to admit.

The feeling dissipated like a wisp of smoke in a strong breeze after reading the first sentence, and by the end of it, the letter was shaking so hard in his grip that the writing blurred before his eyes. He crumpled the paper in his fist.

"Dove!" he roared.

The door opened almost immediately, as if Dove had been lurking outside, waiting to be called. "Yes?"

"Call for the carriage."

Dove frowned and Gold raised the fist with the balled up letter and growled, "Now!"

"Is everything alright, my Lord?" The man still didn't move, as if he were deaf.

Gold started pacing. "Do I look like everything is alright? Apparently Lady Belle didn't know any better than to run home to Papa and announce her engagement!"

"Oh. I'm sorry that your plans to marry the girl have been thwarted— "

"No, Dove, she announced her engagement to me!" He threw the letter against Dove's chest, from where it tumbled to the floor like a slain bird. Dove followed the letter's fall with a puzzled look in his face.

"I don't understand. I thought you wanted to marry her?"

"But without being asked? She just up and confronted me with it!"

"Yes, I can't imagine how that must feel," Dove said with a slight head shake. He bent down and picked up the letter, smoothing it out and skimming over the scribbled lines.

"I did everything so she wouldn't be forced into such a situation! I did not want to force myself on her. I —"

"You wanted her to choose you."

Gold glared at Dove. "I wanted her to be free," he stated with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Ah, yes. Anyone with eyes could see that you gambled for her body, bought shares of her company and schemed your pretty net around her because you wanted her to be free."

"You are supposed to be on my side."

Dove raised his bulging brows, the corners of his mouth twitching. "I am," he said dryly, "but it appears that you don't know what you want. Only a few months ago you decided that the only way to get that shipping company was by marriage. Well, you did it. She's going to marry you."

Gold exhaled, blowing air through his teeth. "Yes, but why? I offered her every way out."

Dove observed the letter in his hand, wrinkling his nose. "Ask her."

"I would, but I'm still waiting for the carriage!"

With a subtle roll of his eyes, Dove turned, placing the letter on a sideboard by the door before he left, his silence speaking of his exasperation. Gold picked up the letter once more, rereading it. It made no sense and a slight edge of unease crept into him, piercing the dark cloud of his anger.

"My Lord,

I could no longer keep the secret of our engagement to myself. I informed my father of our plans. Your presence is required here to bring light to this matter and make an official announcement.

Yours, Belle"

This time, he folded the letter more carefully and slipped it into the inner pocket of his jacket, adamant to demand an explanation for every single word of it. Then he headed downstairs and out to the waiting carriage.

***

At Avon's town house, he was not only awaited by Lady Belle and her father, but also by Lady Leopold and a Mr. Humbert, Bow Street Runner.

Lady Belle shot him a silent, pleading look upon his entrance, as if he needed more than one short look at her panic-stricken face to realize the reason for this turn of events. They'd been caught after all.

Gold hurried across the salon to where Belle sat on the same sofa she’d occupied when rejecting him, pulling her hands into his in a blatant display of affection. Out of the corner of his eyes, he observed Lady Leopold watching with a stony expression as he kissed Belle's knuckles. He let go of her hands and turned to face the rest of them.

"Lady Leopold. What a surprise. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"It's not a pleasure for me, my Lord. My step daughter, the murderer of my dear husband, has been freed."

"That's quite tragic, but it has hardly anything to do with Lady Belle, has it?"

"Lady Belle housed the vile creature! Who says she didn't help her escape? I demand that the house be searched."

"Now you're reaching. How would the delicate Lady Belle be capable of helping a criminal like your daughter? It makes no sense."

Lady Leopold scowled, baring her teeth. "She wasn’t home when my step daughter escaped, and she was nowhere to be found all night. Even you must admit that looks suspicious."

Gold glanced down. Belle's face was pasty, her eyes fixed on her hands in her lap, her lips pressed into a thin line that did little to stop her trembling.

"Not at all,” he said. “It’s hardly suspicious for a member of the upper class to spend the night away from home. However, my fiancée has been with me."

Lord Avon, who'd been quiet till then, whimpered.

"It's interesting, dare I say convenient, that no one has heard of this engagement yet, isn't it?" Impatience brimmed in Lady Leopold's voice. She stood from her chair, taking a step towards them, the air around her almost crackling with menace.

"Not at all. Considering the… circumstances, we wished to keep it quiet. I'm sure you understand."

"Oh, I understand perfectly." She tossed her head back, her lips forming a cruel snarl. "You took the filly for a ride and enjoyed it enough to buy up the whole stable. The story of how you won her… attention is all over London, my Lord."

Belle winced. Gold stepped in front of her, planting himself smoothly between her and Lady Leopold.

"You see, my Lady," he said, his voice low and full of menace, "some of us value integrity and pedigree. Not everyone is willing to stoop to carrying on with servants or Bow Street Runners."

Lady Leopold blanched. She narrowed her eyes at him, but Gold offered nothing more than a thin smile, refusing to let on what he truly knew and didn’t know. Without another word, Lady Leopold swept past him and headed for the doors, leaving the salon in a rustle of silk. Mr. Humbert followed her more slowly, pausing at the door.

"I'm sorry for causing such upset, my Lord. I think we're done now. Seems like Lady Blanchard was helped by the greed of her guards." He bowed, and Gold acknowledged it with a nod. He waited until Mr. Humbert had left before turning around and facing Belle.

"How dare you," he growled, completely ignoring the presence of Lord Avon. If possible, Belle turned even paler.

"I accepted your proposal, my Lord. I thought that's what you wanted."

"You didn't accept anything. You faced a perilous situation and saved yourself by throwing me to the wolves!"

"So you don't want to marry me anymore?"

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Avon interjected, but neither Gold nor Belle paid him any mind.

"I didn't want to be presented with a fait accompli!"

Belle stood, smoothing out her skirts with a somber look in her eyes. "Well, I'm sorry that you had to experience something as upsetting as that, my Lord. Since you no longer desire my hand in marriage, I suggest we announce the retraction of our engagement."

"There hasn't even been an official announcement of our engagement yet!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Besides, this would ruin what’s left of your reputation, you know that. You'd be persona non grata once and for all."

Belle lifted her chin. "I have been a pariah before. And it's not like I have been eager to lose control of all my assets to my husband. You're doing me a favor, really." Her voice was taut, close to breaking, and it turned his insides upside down.

"Lady Leopold won't keep quiet about our indiscretion. This is different from breaking someone's nose."

"I understand that no one would want to marry me anymore. Since I don't wish to marry either, it’s not the worst thing that could happen."

"Certainly. But no one would want to do business with you anymore, and that, I imagine, is the worst thing that could happen.” He paused, waiting for the meaning of his words to sink in. “The ton is already squeamish about being associated with trade. How do you imagine them to react to the idea of trading with a loose woman such as yourself? You might as well open up a brothel.”

Lord Avon gasped, and Belle straightened, her eyes gleaming unnaturally bright. Red blotches crept onto her cheeks. He'd hurt her but he couldn't care less. After all, she had brought them into this situation, and after backing him into a corner and forcing them into a marriage she obviously didn't want, she didn't get to play offended.

"What does it matter to you? My ruin doesn't affect you at all! You can pretend that I was the one to break things off, and you'll appear the victim of this unfortunate affair."

"That's because I am the victim! You left me no choice in all of this!"

Belle took a step towards him, her hands balled to fists at her sides.

"I cannot believe this. You tried everything to trap me into marriage, and now that you finally succeed, you no longer want me? After all we went through? After —" She stopped herself, flushing darker, and Avon's eyes widened as his eyes flicked back and forth between them.

"Belle! You really… Did he —"

Gold inhaled sharply, but Belle was quick to shut down her father. "You don't get to act so shocked, Father. You gave him my virginity, remember? In front of witnesses?" She'd turned to her father, who shrank back as he had to face her wrath.

When it wasn't directed at him, her temperament was a glorious thing to behold, and Gold's stupid heart gave a little flutter. He wasn't quick enough to hide his smile as she turned back, and she frowned.

"And you! There's no reason to look so smug! You gambled for my body and threatened to take me right then on the table in front of everyone!"

"It was an idle threat. I thought we left that behind us, after everything we went through…"

"You might shrug it off, but the peerage is going to remember. You heard Lady Leopold. You ruined me right that moment, without ever touching me."

Gold stepped back, faltering. He was everything wrong with her life, and now she had to marry him, not because she wanted, but because she had no other choice. It was only just that she had left him no other choice either. He was nothing more but means to an end, a solution saving her from a sentence as an accomplice and a murderer. They would be each other’s means to different ends.

"I regret that, believe me," he murmured, then turned and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?"

Gold paused at the door, taking a deep breath before he looked back at her. "I'm going to purchase a special license. You should start planning for our wedding."

Belle dropped onto the sofa like he'd pulled the rug out from under her. "Oh. But — why so fast?"

"What, getting cold feet after all? Lady Leopold won't keep this to herself. By evening, all of London will know that you're a fallen woman. I'd rather get it over with than subject you to weeks and weeks of cruelty at the hands of the ton. Not that it's going to be any better like this, but at least we're free to leave town then until the worst is over."

Belle nodded wordlessly, the color drained from her face. With a nod, Gold started leaving once again.

"Wait," Belle called. It was getting ridiculous, but with a deep sigh, Gold turned, tilting his head.

"What now? Everything's decided, or not?"

"What about my ships? My company?" Her voice shook, and she had her eyes firmly fixed on her knotted hands in her lap.

"We all have a price to pay, I suppose. As my wife, your assets will belong to me. I will take good care of the company you created." There was steel in his voice, and he didn't try to hide it. He'd wanted control over her ships from the very beginning, before he ever knew her or her father, and he wasn't going to give up the one thing he'd pursued relentlessly just because he came to like her. She'd known that her ships were the price she had to pay for her safety, and she'd sacrificed them willingly. Gold wasn't going to turn soft or forget the one thing that kept him alive after his son had died his cruel death.

As he turned and left the room, a sob broke from her lips, piercing him to the bones. He ignored it.

***

The wedding was a plain and quick ceremony only a few days later, witnessed only by Lord Avon, Belle's friend Lady Abigail, and Dove. Belle's eyes were red-rimmed, and she didn't manage to look at him, not even when he put the ring onto her finger. When it was her turn to give him his ring, her fingers trembled so much that she dropped it.

Gold stared straight ahead as she fell to her knees in a cloud of powder-blue silk and satin and frantically searched for the ring, while the clergyman, parish clerk, and their witnesses gaped in horror. At last she found it, and Gold extended his hand to help her up again. She was shaking like an aspen leaf, but this time she managed to put the ring onto his finger. As they wrote the lines, her writing was even more of a scrawl than usually, and Gold had never been more relieved for something to be over than when she had received the copy of their marriage lines and they left the church and climbed into his waiting carriage. There wouldn't be a breakfast with their guests, and they were heading straight for his house, from where they would depart for their wedding trip the following day.

But first, they had a night to spend.

Gold didn't want to think about the night. Belle sat opposite him in the carriage, her white-knuckled hands clawing at her skirts, from time to time turning the ring around her finger. She didn't look at him.

After a while, he couldn't take the silence any longer. They would reach his house in only a few minutes, but damn him if he didn't have the guts to talk to his wife. They'd never been locked in silence like this before. "How do you feel?" he asked, making his voice gentle. It sounded forced and strained instead.

"I'm sorry about the ring. It just slipped out of my fingers…"

"No matter. Any bride would be nervous on her wedding day."

"You weren't nervous." For the first time, she lifted her gaze and looked at him.

He quirked his lips. "I'm not a bride. Besides, this wasn't my first wedding."

"Oh. I didn't know you were married before. What happened?"

Gold cursed himself for his loose tongue, but just then they reached his house and the carriage rattled to a halt. "We're here! Welcome to your new home, my Lady."

She narrowed her eyes but didn't say another thing, as Dove opened the carriage door. Gold climbed out, then helped her. Her hand was cold in his and he tightened his grip, not letting go immediately when her feet touched the ground and she’d straightened her skirts out.

"I'm safe now, you can let go of me," she murmured, avoiding his gaze.

"I know. You don't need my help, but maybe I enjoy holding the hand of my new wife."

She pressed her lips into a thin line and looked at the house where Dove waited. She still couldn't look at him.

"Let me show you inside then, my Lady. Dove has prepared you a suite."

She inhaled sharply, her eyes flicking up for the shortest moment. "We're not going to share a bedroom?"

"Not unless you want to. However, I hope we still might take some time to sate your… curiosity."

She blushed furiously and jerked her hand away.

"What? No longer curious? Or did you hope this marriage would be just a ploy to give you cover? I'm sorry to inform you that this isn't what I had in mind."

"But why not? You got everything you wanted! You stole my ships, and took my everything from me!" Her voice cracked, and she stepped back and kneaded her hands, as if she needed to exorcise the memory of his touch from her skin.

"Just because I wanted your ships the most doesn't mean I don't want you as well. And judging by your curiosity, you like me well enough as well. I can give you new things to care for. Children, for example. Most women are perfectly happy caring for a family."

She stepped even farther away, as if his words exuded poison, and tears welled up in her eyes. "I had everything I ever wanted," she whispered.

"Too bad. Maybe you should have fled on one of your ships then, instead of pressing me into marriage. Now, let's go inside and I'll show you to your room." He closed the distance between them and took her arm, leading her inside and ignoring her resistance. After a short moment of fighting his lead, she gave up, following him like a lamb to the slaughter.

Blackness roiled inside him, and for a moment he wondered if the loss of her affection was too steep a price to pay for finally getting his revenge. Then he remembered the broken body of his boy, and decided that there was nothing he wouldn't give to make his son's killer pay. Belle's heart was just collateral.

[marginalgloss]

her gravity

The Commodore by Patrick O’Brian represents a sort of homecoming for its characters, and a significant promotion for one of them. It is here that Jack Aubrey is given a promotion and put in charge of a squadron of ships with two aims: the first being to damage and disrupt the African slave trade (then only recently made illegal in England), and the second to stop a French squadron landing troops in Ireland. It has been several books since Jack and Stephen were back in England, and a certain amount has changed in their absence. There is still the shadow of a conspiracy around them both, one which reaches into the most remote branches of the aristocracy. Closer to home, Jack’s wife Sophie has been getting a little too friendly with the local reverend. And Stephen’s wife is still conspicuously absent. 

On the whole this is a solid, well-balanced instalment in this series. The author’s prose is in fine form; limpid, smooth, and always a pleasure to read. And for the most part it is all very laid-back. The plot is not really a central driver of interest here. The mission against the slave trade is well within Aubrey’s abilities, and Maturin is never seriously threatened by the dark forces supposedly mustered against him. We can also be fairly certain that O’Brian won’t rewrite history to the degree of inventing a successful French invasion of Ireland. But it is full of charming period detail, pleasant little set pieces, and delightful incident on a smaller scale. 

It might be the most fun I’ve had with one of these books for a while. I loved the little flashback to a duel between Aubrey and his old pal Heneage Dundas (‘Half a dozen passes, the blades clashing, and when Jack cried out ‘Oh Hen, what have you done?’ Dundas gazed for a moment at the spurting blood, burst into tears, whipped off his shirt and bound up the wound as best he could.’). As ever the scenes in England on Aubrey’s little estate are gentle, knockabout fun. Even a gloomy dinner between Maturin and Joseph Blaine is punctuated by little moments of levity (‘Even in spite of my boiled fowl and my pint of claret and your company I find my spirits much oppressed.’) 

But I think it is in this book that O’Brian’s affection for Irishry turns a little strange. It starts to seem less like cultural flavour, and more like cultish preoccupation. We are introduced to the daughter of Maturin and his wife Diana; in a faintly gothic image, he finds the young girl living alone in the care of Clarissa Oakes, who we last met in the novel of that name. Oakes is alone and somewhat disgraced in the eyes of the local community, while Diana seems to have effectively abandoned her child altogether. When we meet the girl, Brigid, she is almost entirely mute. She is polite and mannered to excess but entirely uninterested in adult affairs. It is only when she is introduced to Stephen’s Irish servant Padeen that her father discovers she is capable of open communication:

‘The paper dropped from [Stephen’s] hand. It was exactly as though he had heard a faint childish voice cry ‘Twelve!’ or something very like it. Twelve in Irish, of course. With the utmost caution he stood up and set his door on the jar, with a book either side to prevent it moving. ‘For shame, Breed, honey,’ said Padeen, ‘it is a dó dhéag you must say. Listen, sweetheart, listen again will you now? A haon, a dó, a trí, a ceathir, a cúig, a sé, a seacht, a hocht, a naoi, a deich, a haon déag, a dó dhéag, with a noise like yia, yia. Now, a haon, a dó …’ The little high voice piped, ‘A haon, a dó … ’ and so right through to ‘a dó dhéag,’ which she said with just Padeen’s Munster intonation. ‘There’s a golden lamb, God and Mary and Patrick bless you,’ said Padeen kissing her. ‘Now let you throw the hoop on the four, which will make twelve altogether so it will too: since eight and four is twelve for evermore.’

She will only speak in Gaelic, though it’s unclear how she ever learned it. Brigid has had a difficult upbringing, though we only hear of it second-hand. It is evident that she’s suffered most of all at the hands of Aubrey’s mother-in-law, Mrs Williams. That lady is perhaps the most direct subject of the author’s contempt here; one need only look at how Mrs Williams describes her preferred approach to Brigid (‘...a good shaking, the black hole, bread and water and perhaps the whip answer very well and at no cost...’). Today we might say Brigid has Asperger’s or some degree of autism. But what is evident above all is that she is in many ways the perfect child in relation to Maturin. In her eyes, she is idealised. Well, of course she is — she’s his daughter. 

Still, the novel seems to place her on a small pedestal in a way that feels uncanny. At one point Stephen says that in Ireland those like her are known as ‘leanaí sídhe’, and it often seems like the book cleaves too closely to that vision of he as a magical, special creature. She doesn’t really feel like a real child. Certainly she has moments of wonder (as when she is first taken to sea, to go with Clarissa to spend time with the nuns in Spain). But she is not at all messy, rough, or uncouth. To Maturin, all these things are distasteful in the extreme (in spite of his own personal shabbiness). She has all of her father’s fascination with the natural world, and his affinity for animals, and at times she often seems like a nascent, underdeveloped female version of Stephen. I like this moment where he notices that in spite of her implacable reserve, she is not incapable of affection: 

‘An ancient white-muzzled kitchen dog shuffled in after them and the first relief to Stephen’s quite extraordinary pain – extraordinary in that he had never known any of the same nature or the same intensity – came when the old dog sniffed at the back of Brigid’s leg and without stopping her left hand’s delicate motion she reached down with the other to scratch his forehead, while something of pleasure showed through her gravity.’

I suspect Stephen hopes that one day he too might be the recipient of head-scratches. After all, his life has been devoid of direct affection for quite a long time. At sea he is widely liked but not often received with much intimacy; most of the sailors respect him rather than welcome him. Clarissa was fond of him but it was never exactly reciprocal. There is Jack, of course, but for the course of this novel Jack is necessarily busy with the business of being a Commodore. And Diana is once again entirely absent from this book. She is mentioned only in rumour by the other characters: she has been gambling, buying and selling horses, and perhaps having affairs. Though we spend quite a bit of time in England, she never appears in this book until the final lines. 

Given that Diana’s been afforded so few pages in these novels so far, I shouldn’t find this surprising. But it does seem like an inexplicable way of passing an opportunity, and it left me with the sense of a great deal being swept under the rug. It is a difficult situation, and this author’s way of dealing with really difficult situations is to not deal with them at all. Instead, they will be handled off stage (in cases of spectacular confrontation), or the question will be fudged to make it seem as though there was never really any problem. 

The solution here to Maturin’s family life is a combination of both. Diana is conveniently absent, so we don’t have to deal with the problem of her; and the emergence of Brigid turns out to be purely delightful. Mrs Williams and her ilk are easily swept aside. But there’s something that creaks uncomfortably underfoot throughout all this. It is hard not to feel the Irish flair becoming something of a fetish here, and harder still to shake the sense that this stems from the author’s own curious affinity for Ireland.

The afterword to my edition still makes vague mention of the author’s ‘peripatetic Anglo–Irish childhood’, but it is now generally quite well known that O’Brian invented both an Irish surname and an Irish childhood for himself. It might be real affection, but it seems to have been based on an idealised version of that nation, not from his own personal history with it. In later years it became apparent that he either fictionalised or concealed a certain amount of his early life, and despite the efforts of two biographers, much about him still seems obscure. 

Perhaps, in the end, the biographies didn’t help at all; the broader question of how his work might relate to his own family experiences is too contentious to be a serious matter for debate. Does it really matter if any of this is inauthentic? Perhaps it does: a post-colonial reading might consider it a sort of appropriation. There is something overly comforting in that perpetual image here of the Irishman (a republican) and the Englishman (a High Tory) arm in arm, fighting the greater fight. Much difficult history is glossed over in this regard. One might take a hard look at the sequence late in this novel where Stephen talks down the Irish locals from raiding a beached French ship to take their weapons. I feel like we would have seen more than a little conflict in his mind regarding such moments in earlier novels; now he is quicker to reconcile the correct thing to do, and the English thing to do, in the same thought.

Perhaps it is all very fanciful. Perhaps this is what prevents O’Brian from becoming a really first-rate novelist. And yet I’m willing to tolerate a certain amount of fancy from my reading. As we’ve seen throughout the theme of leaving one’s responsibilities on shore and lighting out for the territory has been a consistent one throughout these novels. Why should their approach to the those ultimate matters of family be any different? Why should an author not allow their characters a certain measure of the happiness that perhaps they would be denied outside the sheltered pages of a book?  

‘…She herself was well, mildly happy, reading as she had not read for years, and she liked the nuns’ singing: sometimes she went with Padeen (who sent his duty) to the Benedictine church for the plainchant. Enclosed was a small square piece of paper, not over-clean, with a drawing of a wolf with teeth and some words that Stephen could not make out until he realized that they were Irish written phonetically: O my father fare well Brigid.’