#pyn's parables

[mlkydrms]

Grounded

🌙 Sorcerer!Taehyung & Paladin!Jimin 🌙 Chrysalis Moon (level 2), D&D AU (Homebrew Setting) 🌙 1900 words 🌙 Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, Fantasy, Action(?) 🌙 Warnings: Universe-typical Violence (Fantasy, D&D): Minor Character Death (characters are unnamed and are bandits), Some blood and injuries (as par for this course), Light description of wounds. Panic Attack. Insecurity. NO BETA, cause I'm a silly little lad. 🌙 Notes: terrible action writing...(idk why I try), Aasimar Paladin Jimin, Tiefling Sorcerer Taehyung, Pre-Chrysalis Moon 🌙 A/n: I love this universe but damn I hate that I make myself write some semblance of action. Hope you like it.

Summary:

Close shaves with death are ever so common in such a terrifying world filled with power. If one does not focus, how far can they ever get alone?

[ Past | Master | Future ]

[Read on AO3 instead?]

"You should focus, Taehyung. This isn't a hard spell to master. There is power in your words, remember?"

The crackling in his ears grows louder. The heat in his chest grows colder. There is haze all around him. He can make out a figure in the blur. The shape is familiar to him. The colours are easily recognisable. The voice fills him with a mix of emotions. 

"Listen, my child. The world out there is not as kind, not as gentle as it is here. Now, try this again. With me."

The world is not gentle. It is filled with so much. So many things to see, and do, and experience and none of them as gentle in nature to what he was used to. Taehyung is learning quite quickly that the temple was a safety he took for granted. 

"You must stay focused. You must listen. Don't let your gentleness be a weakness, my little glass chip."

The pet name echoes in the darkening haze around him. Slowly, ever so slowly, what imprints of memory he is recalling is fading away. It is becoming much colder.

"Tae, wake up."

Heat rushes through his body in a second. The searing of his soul fills his body with an electric tingle. His eyes shoot open as a cough rips through his throat. He turns, propping up his body with weak arms. His eyes come to focus. The floor is not the cold marble of his temple. His fingers curl instinctively and dying grass fills his fist.

The absence of weight on his shoulder buzzes the area. Jimin is pulling back their hand and their attention is turned away after making sure that Taehyung is awake. They are in the middle of a fight, in the middle of preserving their lives in the wilds. 

"Stay with me now, dragon. Keep low, keep safe. You'll be alright."

They shoot him a quick smile before stepping forward towards the fight. The soft glimmer of sparkling stars momentarily remains where Jimin was. The sound of metal rings in his ears. 

Taehyung lays back down facing the dark night sky. He rolls his head to look at the action. Everything is upside down. They look like bats fighting under a hay roof. Jimin is swinging their scythe against a claymore a bandit is wielding.

Fighting. There is so much fighting in the world. It is not safe just like his late mentor had told him. It is what they have been trying to help him with. Powers that are held within him are his and for his preservation but Taehyung does not like hurting others no matter how bad they seem. And the more he adventures, the more he thinks that their actions can simply be justified by the harshness of life.

He shakes his head. No he can't think that. Some actions cannot be justified by just that. He hears Jimin's grunt as another fighter slashes at them with a dagger. They're fighting on their own. There is one of two outcomes for this. Taehyung needs to swallow the fact and decide which of the two he makes true.

People die. A daily occurrence. Taehyung will have to take life, as horrifying as the thought is. He knows that his own will be taken if he does not do it. Jimin's would be taken if he remains as he is. It still makes him sick to think this is the only way he could get out of this.

He turns back onto his belly. He raises his hand out towards them. Dry heat rises around him as his mind thinks of the spell his mentor taught him a long while ago. Words, he knows the words. 

'If not for yourself, then for me. Please.'

Taehyung swallows. The words fall out of his mouth effortlessly. His non-stretched hand digs into the grass. His fingers shift the way he remembers his mentor teaching him. He feels the crackle of electricity in his blood pulse.

Jimin swings. Their blade meets flesh. A fighter falls. A different body stands behind them, ready to strike second.

And he focuses, as if hearing their voice again nagging at the back of his mind. He focuses as they have wanted him to time and time over. The prickle travels fast through his arm to his outstretched hand. His eyes lock onto the final bandit in range. He grits his teeth.

Flash and crackle. A sickly green and bronze bolt leaves his fingers. The charge shifts carelessly towards its target. It hits, with a sudden jolt to the bandit. Stray sparks fork out uncontrollably. In a lucky turn, Jimin is untouched by the unpredictable spray.

A shout is cut short from the stop of a heart. The last bandit falls into a heap as the last crackles of electricity turn into small fires in the dry grass. Jimin stands alone beside the tiny flickering flames. They turn their head towards Taehyung. Their glowing gold eyes shift in hue like fire. They step towards the weak sorcerer on the ground.

Taehyung feels a wash of fear and panic dump over him. He watches Jimin emptily. The haggard figure of his friend in the short distance away is trying to remain tall in their posture. Jimin is limping and bleeding and bruised. His friend, his first friend is in this state because of him.

The dark voice of his own worries begin to grow. He takes the blame and accepts it as his own despite not being told that was his fault. Someone close to him is hurt. He did nothing to prevent it. He feels the twist of his stomach that tries to make him vomit. Taehyung gags despite having nothing to throw up. He coughs terribly in the attempt. What remaining magic in his hand fizzles out in a snap.

Jimin lets go of their hold on their scythe. The soft glow pouring out of their eyes stops. Their steps move faster. They are more determined to get to their travel partner that is curling up into himself. They cannot have Taehyung go through this again alone.

"I'm sorry. I should have...should've... I'm sorry." 

He repeats it like a mantra, shaking in place as he sits up. His nails scratch against his arms. A brass scale gets caught against his nail. Taehyung picks at it. 

Jimin drops to their knees and pulls the Tiefling close. They hug him tight against their chest. Taehyung's jewelry is pressed against the stained leather armor. The stench of fresh blood does not bother them.

"Hey there, it's ok. It's alright. You're fine. You're here."

Taehyung tries to shake his head but the Aasimar holds him in place. They continue to whisper in a hushed voice. Taehyung can only listen. 

"You're alright Tae. Listen to my voice. It's alright. We're alright."

Jimin slowly loosens their hold. They shift from an embrace to facing Taehyung towards them. Their hand finds his and pulls it away from picking at his scales. The one that he was scratching at is already half-way through being peeled off his skin. Jimin gives Taehyung's hands a gentle squeeze. The warmth goes through him again. His scratching feels like it never happened.

Taehyung is still mumbling through his apologies. His eyes are still unfocused. Jimin tilts his head up to make eye contact. He is looking at them but tears start to form. 

"Taehyung. I'm here. I'm here, Tae. I'm perfectly fine. You have nothing to be sorry about."

"But I didn't do anything. I didn't help you. You got hurt. I... I just got in your way. I couldn't even try."

The disappointment feels like a crashing wave. The memory of his mentor's eyes, kind yet strict, is ever present in his mind. They tried so hard and yet, their efforts remained in vain. All they have taught is seemingly so useless in his hands. How long has it been since he had seen them? How long was it since their…

The others did not have their patience. Not with Taehyung at least. Never with him. He wonders how backwards it all was. A child like him, always getting into trouble for not meeting up to their prejudices. A young Tiefling too kind, too loving to hurt even a miniscule insect. For that, casted aside not as a devil too hard to control but a child too scared and soft for potential.

If he had continued all on his own, how fast would he have perished, he wonders. All too fast, surely...

"You're never in my way, Taehyung. I know how hard it can be for you in a fight. You're gentle, you're kind. That's ok. This is what I'm here for. I am a fighter. This is not your fault."

Jimin leans forward and bumps their forehead against his. The tip of their noses touch as Jimin closes their eyes. Their hands have left Taehyung's and shifted to hold and steady his head. Caring thumbs gently smooth over the area where Taehyung's horns meet his forehead. 

"You're not alone. You have me. You did great. We'll go through this together. You and me. Now breathe."

Taehyung's breath still stutters. Jimin guides him through taking a deep breath slowly. The seconds tick by as they stay there, not quite far from the road to Echoten. Taehyung comes back to the full reality of where he is. 

Taehyung focuses on Jimin. He reaches up and holds their biceps to further cement himself into reality. He is not alone. Jimin is next to him. An angel entrusted with strength and strength that they willingly give to him. There is no wrong in having fear. There is no wrong in being weak. All he needs to do is stay true to himself. He is not alone, for better and not all worse.

He takes in another deep breath to stabilise himself. Jimin twitches when Taehyung accidentally presses a finger into a wound. 

"Sorry," he whispers. 

"You've done worse,” they try to joke but immediately backtrack their tone. “I'll patch that in a moment. How about you? Breathe a little easier?"

Taehyung nods slowly. They pull away from each other but not too far. Jimin keeps their hands on Taehyung's arms.

The Tiefling pats down his clothes in search of his special trinket given by Master Indrahi. He feels the light bump of it in the pocket of his pants where he last left it. He pulls it out and sighs. A platinum coin with the insignia of his patron encased in glass and brass detailing is still intact. There is a crack in the front of the glass but it is still in one piece. He clutches it in hands.

For me.

Jimin closes their hand over his. They smile. 

For them.

"We're okay. You're here. With me. The gods watch over us. We are protected, by them, by each other. Someday it will not hurt so much to try."

For us.

Taehyung finally takes a proper slow breath in. He feels the warmth of his companion's hands. Jimin is there for him like his mentor was. There is so much Taehyung has to learn in the world. It will be slow for him to truly begin to fight but that is alright. Jimin is right there with him. They are right here to ground him.

[mlkydrms]

Lives Under The Moon

🌙 BTS OT7 (Half-elf Druid Namjoon, Changeling Bard Seokjin, Tiefling Bard/Wizard Yoongi, Water Genasi Ranger Hoseok, Aasimar Paladin Jimin, Tiefling Sorcerer Taehyung, Human Fighter Jungkook) 🌙 Chrysalis Moon (level 7), D&D AU (Homebrew Setting) 🌙 9852 words 🌙 Genre: ?, Slice-of-lIfe Fantasy I guess 🌙 Notes: Jimin and Seokjin are non-binary and I use they/them pronouns for them in this fic, A focus into party dynamics [Taegi(seok), Jikook, Namjin mainly], POV shifts [entire work is in 3rd person, don't worry]. Unnamed cameo by the TXT boys. Also, this work is of fictitious nature and characters act within their own directions and values. They do not mean to be real views of the people they have been inspired and named by. 🌙 Warnings: Hobi is injured but we don't focus on that too much, Hatred of Self, Insecurities, Yoongi started as neutral evil pre-canon, Recounting of an old story (Inclusion of Magical Mental Manipulation, Background character death, Guilt of Murder), Some God talk, pretty much infodumps. Very Dialogue heavy so if that is not your cup of tea please move on. 🌙 a/n: Reposted from the previous blog and AO3

Summary:

The party of Chrysalis Moon set up camp off the road after a tiring encounter, the city still a day's travel away. They take shifts for the night watch in pairs. In the light of a campfire and under the eye of the waning crescent moon, the members find themselves pouring part of their souls out to each other in the hours of night.

[ Past | Master | Future ]

[Read in the Garden?]

"Is this a good spot?" Hoseok casually mentions.

The rest of the party stop their horses. The cart squeaks to a halt. The group looks around. It is just a grassland with a lone tree by the side of the dirt path. Far into the distance they can see the edge of the forest line. It looks as good a place as any on an open road.

"Sure. It's going to take another day to get to the city. And we need the rest. We'll take the night." Namjoon walks his horse off the road.

Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook guide the cart out to a cleared out area near the big tree. It seems that other travelers that took this road had the same idea before them. Hoseok stays in the cart as the three try to guide the cart horse in the right direction. He holds his left arm close to his body. Namjoon and Seokjin find themselves tying up their horses around the tree.

Yoongi hops the cart and walks away to a space a few meters from the lone tree. He settles down on the grass and pulls out a clear crystal bead from his component pouch. Under his breath, he begins his ritual.

Hoseok walks away from the party and does a once around to check the perimeter. Jimin follows him from close behind. They worry for the still injured ranger. The burns of his left arm are still fresh. None of them have any spare healing spells left for the day and all of their healing potions have been used days ago.

A wide black dome appears around Yoongi. The dark black slowly changes to a dark green to match the grass of the open field. Jungkook enters the dome easily with a bunch of dry wood and sticks to make a campfire with. They don't need the heat with the dome up but it was more for atmosphere and light.

The camp is made quickly with all of them doing their own part. The night falls on them quicker than they expected. The darkness fills the sky as they doff their armours onto the cart before entering the dome.

Seokjin helps Yoongi with taking his leather armour to the cart. They try to enter the dome again but they get shut out. They smack the dome with a closed fist.

"Yah! Yoongi, let me in."

There is laughter that comes out from the dome. With how much time they have spent together, they recognise it as the owner of the dome. Seokjin curses Yoongi out. They try to smack the dome again but this time their fist goes through without a problem. Seokjin falls through with the momentum.

"Ugh, I hate you."

"I just needed a good laugh." There is a toothy grin splayed across the Tiefling's face.

Seokjin picks themself off the ground and dusts the dirt off his clothes. "Yeah and I get to be the butt end."

Yoongi apologizes. They sit around the fire with tired smiles. There is a hanging tension around them but no one speaks up. They just chew on their respective rations.

Seokjin turns in first, choosing a space close to the edge of the hut. They pull up the hood of their cloak and lies down facing away from the rest of the party. They go to sleep with the rest of their cloak covering over their body like a blanket.

Namjoon scoots over somewhere closer to the older. He looks over the rest of his members. All of them are looking at their own thing, not wanting to make eye contact after their earlier battle. They should talk about it but no one is ready for the discussion. Namjoon wonders if they even would.

"Evening shifts?" He brings up a different topic.

Yoongi pulls out a book and opens it up. He places it in front of him and unties his component pouch from his belt. "I'll take the first watch. I have spells to work out."

"Would you like me to join you?" Hoseok offers.

Yoongi shakes his head. "If anything, you need all the rest you can get, Seok-ah. I'll take the shift alone."

The rest of the boys nod. Jungkook and Jimin lie down where they are. They say their good nights before drifting off to much needed rest. Hoseok hesitates to rest even when Yoongi tells him he should.

"Hoseok, just rest. You need it. You can take a watch the next time we are on the road." Namjoon says.

"Oh, okay."

Jimin suddenly sits up and raises their hand. They stutter momentarily, trying to connect thoughts that have already begun to drift off to slumber. They have been quite tired since the fight.

"Ah, ah—I'll take the next shift."

Yoongi nods and flips through the pages of a spell book. Jimin goes back to lying down on their back and falling straight to sleep. Hoseok laughs at that before turning to sleep on his side.

"Then, I'll take the last as usual." Namjoon says.

He places his druid focus in front of him like a line separating the rest of the party from him and Seokjin. He lays back. He counts the stars in the sky as he falls asleep.

In the quiet of sleeping bodies, Yoongi reads the spells written on the well made pages of the spell book. The writing is clean and neat. The words are rigid and conformed unlike the curvatures of the actual spells that are alongside them. He follows every line and tries to understand how the spell works. His fingers follow the arcane symbols along the page. It is not hard for him to connect the aspects of the spells. He stops.

Yoongi watches the scenery of the dark sky change as clouds pass by. The grey tone on their underbellies contrasts with the silver peeking from above them, reflecting the light of the shining waning moon. He spots the little twinkling stars on the big canvas of dark navy. He spends a few minutes trying to connect some of the constellations in his mind. It is like connecting patterns of arcane sigils.

He looks down at his book. A book. It is not his.

There is a quiet shift from over the campfire. Yoongi looks over. Taehyung is curled up. Yoongi squints.

"You're still awake." Yoongi closes the book on his lap.

Taehyung rolls over onto his back. He does not try to hide it. His eyes turn to look at Yoongi through the fire.

"I couldn't sleep. Mind if I watched with you?"

Yoongi shakes his head. He watches Taehyung sit up from where he was lying down right across from him. He stares right at the sorcerer who watches the flames of the campfire. He is curled up with his legs tucked against his chest and arms circled around them.

Yoongi focuses on the features of the younger Tiefling. The light and shadow cast by the fire shifts on his skin. He can see the reflecting outlines of brass scales lining his cheeks. They are much more noticeable in this light. He looks up to Taehyung's head. The dark brown horns that protrude from the front of his head curl along the skull to the back before the sharp tips point upward. They are very different from Yoongi's own ram-like ones.

He looks at the accessories that hang on them. Small gold chains dangle from the root of the horn to the tip, lined with little emeralds and amethysts hanging off from it. Thick brass bands on his left horn glints in the shifting light of the fire. Yoongi feels jealous of how unabashed Taehyung is about his ancestry, both of draconic bloodline and fiendish nature.

The fire suddenly turns from its bright red to a sickening green. Taehyung's slitted eyes are glowing. His fingers are twitching against his tan skin in a pattern. The fire dims in light but the shape does not change.

"Taehyung."

The younger snaps his attention to Yoongi. The fire grows.

"Taehyung, snap out of it!" He hisses loud enough to make Taehyung cut it out but not quite to wake everyone else.

"What?" He blinks. The magic fizzles out and the campfire returns to its original form. "Oh... I'm sorry."

Yoongi looks out of the dome. He does not want to see the guilty look on Taehyung's face.

"I'm sorry about earlier as well."

"It's ok. You are still getting used to the extra power. It was not your fault. Getting stronger can be quite a feat."

Taehyung laughs quietly. He tightens his hold around his legs. He is starting to think again.

Yoongi looks up at the moon. There is still quite a while till the next night shift. He can't just fake wanting to go to sleep. He closes his eyes for just a second before focusing again on Taehyung. The afternoon's events were not his fault.

"There is always a lot going on in the middle of a fight. You didn't know that he was there. He was in your blind spot. The trees were heavily clustered. He didn't know you were going to do that."

"But I still hurt him. I should have paid more attention. I have to pay more attention. They always told me I lacked focus."

Yoongi sees how Taehyung is looking at the sleeping figure of the ranger. Hoseok is completely asleep without a care of his surroundings. Yoongi looks at him as well. The little Fae fish are just swimming slowly along the length of his body. Their translucent being reflecting part of the fire making them glitter like the goldfish they are meant to represent. Two of them hover over the wound. The fabric of his sleeve is burned off and so is the side of his cloak. Yoongi notes that he will have to buy the Genasi a new shirt and cloak when they get into town in the next few days.

"He will recover, Tae. I'm sure he does not hate you for it."

As if those are the keywords that activate the sorcerer, Taehyung looks away from Hoseok. His body turns to face the rest of his members sleeping in the hut. He turns his face away from Yoongi as well. A jewelled accessory falls against his shoulder as his head tilts.

"How would you know?" Taehyung whispers.

"Because I've hurt him, intentionally. He's still here around me."

Taehyung does not shift. Yoongi's hand reaches down to his component pouch. The snake tongue that is inside has not been touched for a long time. Yoongi debates if he would ever use it again. The wood crackles in the fire. Yoongi throws another piece of wood in to feed it.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't hurt him physically." He scoffs. "He would have knocked me unconscious faster than I could pull something from up my sleeves. I used Suggestion."

Taehyung slowly turns his head to look at Yoongi as he tells his story. Yoongi has a forlorn smile.

"He trusted me too much back then and I used it to get what I wanted. No regards to him, to his feelings."

Yoongi reaches out, and tugs and pulls the air. He uses the same spell Taehyung had mindlessly used earlier to make images in the campfire. A small vague figure of a ranger appears, shooting their bow made of flame. Another figure, a dull man with what looks like a flute prances around behind them. Yoongi crosses his hands and the figures come closer to one another. Taehyung's attention is fully given.

"I was never a good person to begin with. He knew that and still he trusted me. I couldn't understand how he could put so much faith into someone he barely knew."

Suddenly, the figures disperse into a vague representation of a forest. "We were wandering in the wilds. It was somewhere I had been. I knew of its secrets with the tales that float through my circles. Spoken words of treasures and power hidden away. The maps were in my hands. So the stories were mine to weave."

Yoongi continues the movements of his hand. Taehyung is impressed with the way the older Tiefling does it even though Yoongi learned the spell far later than he had. Every finger moves gracefully and the flames move along like puppets on a string. He wonders if the elegance is the product of Yoongi's expertise with musical instruments.

"I took him far into the wilds where a group of people lived peacefully. They were crafters. Enchanters that made weapons for travellers that knew of their work. Good people that worked for trade. I told him they were bandits."

The image of the flames swirls. Yoongi stops. The book on his lap is now heavy as he recalls the story. It is not his book. It is a book he picked up from a body that could not fight back any longer.

"In the shadows, I watched and planned. I prepared every string, tuned every note. I made sure that I had the upper hand and controlled the beat and tempo. I was the grand conductor."

Yoongi gives up on illustrating the story. This was not some tale he could just spurt out like entertainment. This was his guilt that he still holds on to. So, without the use of the campfire, he tells the actual story.

"We found it. Hoseok found it. As I had thought, having a ranger beside me made it a much quicker search. Hoseok was cautious. He believed the lies I fed him but the fantasy was easy to break. We took a day to stake out the small area."

Yoongi remembers it as clear as day. Elves and Gnomes puttering about the small place. The happy chatters that float through the air as he and Hoseok stalked the place. He remembers the way Hoseok was slowly falling out of the threaded tale Yoongi had told him.

He tells Taehyung about the doubt Hoseok slowly filled with. The unsettled guilt stirs in his stomach once again. A sickness that Yoongi doubts he will ever run away from.

"I saw it in him. The resistance was already growing. I was stubborn. I was going to get what I wanted that day. I tightened my hold on my snake's tongue. I told him—Suggested that we take them out. I suggested it was for the best because they were bad people before he could doubt me even more. Said that they hurt a lot of people. Lied they hurt me before. I was the evil one."

"You're not evil."

"Even as I tell you this story, you believe that?"

"Yes. Evil people do not feel remorse for the things they did. They keep doing it. They don't care about the people around them. You care."

Yoongi smiles. "If I was a good person, do you think I would be here telling you this story? Telling you that I made a good man kill innocents just because I wanted something that I knew I could never have? Smiling as I do so."

Taehyung straightens his back and crosses his legs. There is a frown on his face. Again, Yoongi manages to fill a person with doubt. His heart feels heavy.

"I didn't think that it would work. It shouldn't have worked but he—Hoseok never set a single foot into the settlement. I didn't allow it. I wouldn't risk Hoseok getting hit. I wouldn't risk the spell being broken. In the evening, I entered the main building alone. Hoseok was out in the trees. I was out of his sight. I could do what I wanted. I could say what I wanted. My plan was going through so well. I told them what I wanted. I intended to give them a choice. And when they said they would not give it to me, I started."

He recounts the veiled threat he placed. He tried to reason but he did not try enough. Yoongi wonders if it was even a choice that he gave them. He knew that they would not divulge their practice to any stranger that walked through that wooden door.

"I had cast Thunderwave, made as much noise as the spell counted for. I busted out that door like I have been hit. I stumbled like some performer on a stage. I had to perform to keep Hoseok on my line."

Yoongi closes his eyes. He sees it behind his lids. The scene plays so slowly in his mind. The rumble of the spell as it quaked from his position. The clatter of items that fell on the floor. The small quake the walls had. He can almost feel the same rush of panic flowing through his veins as he ran out the door with a stumble.

"It went through so quickly. Sword in my hand, spells at the ready. One by one they came out their doors to their deaths. It seemed like I blacked out in bloodlust but I knew what I was doing. My hands shook. I still don't know if it was fear or just pure adrenaline that was running in my veins. All I saw in front of me were obstacles I could cut down."

He clenches his fist. He lets his sharp nails scratch at the skin of his palm. He gently scratches to remind himself that he is not back in his memories living a purgatory. He scratches to stop the urge to bite his nails. He calms his breathing. Some time, maybe, he could find a way to repay his actions.

"I counted how many of them there were. I counted down each body as they fell down." All of the faces flash through his mind as he continues. "I counted and kept time. I counted. I killed them all."

"How many?"

Taehyung's face becomes harsher. Yoongi can see the dragon that lives in his blood finding judgement. He somehow feels relieved to be under scrutiny.

"Thirteen. Thirteen people fell that day. All of them by my hand."

"Hoseok—"

"Oh no. He helped, but never the final blow. Only me."

Taehyung scans every muscle of Yoongi's face in the ever flickering light. There must be more. He knows there must be more.

"What was it that you wanted from them?"

"Magic. Spells. I wanted to learn what they knew. I wanted to understand. I didn't get it of course. All of their work was verbally taught. Not a scrap of paper to learn from. Everything so innate, like you."

Yoongi's hand feels over the embossed cover of the spell book. He follows the traces of circles and curves. He does not tell Taehyung that the book did not belong to him. He remembers picking up the dark covered book from the corpse of a learning mage. The hunger in him lessened for only just a second when he got it. The last person he killed. The one that begged for mercy.

"You killed them for nothing."

Yoongi nods at that. He looks up again at the moon. She is partially covered by dark clouds just like that night.

"I thought that I would have been dead by morning. Or at least have an arrow pointed right at my neck when I opened my eyes. Even waking up alone would have been fine but he was still there. Those anger filled eyes and the distrust that twinkled in the back of them."

A shiver runs through him. Hoseok shifts in his sleep. He mumbles something but neither of the Tieflings understood. The ranger reaches out to the ground and caresses the dirt.

"Hoseok stayed. He shouldn't have but here he is, far too trusting than he should be. He wouldn't talk to me for a while but he stayed. We could have turned to different paths but he kept by me."

Hoseok has always been such a confusing person to Yoongi. He has been all smiles and wonder. So when it changes all too suddenly, it is an obvious tell that something has gone wrong. He wears all his emotions on his sleeves. Yoongi knows how different they are. Yoongi knows how different he is to Taehyung as well.

"I remember questioning for just a second, such a split of a second, why did everything I planned go accordingly? No fuss, no wrong. The look in his eyes was why. A realisation hit me. The regret settled in so harsh. He didn't even have to say anything and I was begging to explain myself to him. Trust, a thing I played with so easily. Losing his trust was different from others."

"Did you travel alone before him?"

"I've always been alone. The people around me that I did talk to were just for me to use but I guess he stayed for too long. An attachment I didn't mean to make probably. After that incident, he understands how to read me like a simple children's book. He hasn't forgiven me. I shouldn't be forgiven but I am not hated."

Taehyung fidgets around with his jewellery. "I'm glad he is still by you."

"Are you now?"

"He's making you rethink who you are. You're becoming a better person. It's good that you have someone with you now. It's good to not be alone."

"If you say so."

Yoongi looks out, remembering what he is supposed to be doing. He scans the area again. The only thing outside making movement is the winds dancing with the tall grass. The landscape shifts gently with the breeze. The fire does the same. The stars are telling him it is time for change.

He looks back at Taehyung who is still thinking. Yoongi wonders if it is a force of habit from his days being under the Temple of the Platinum Dragon's care. He returns back to the reason why he decided to tell his story.

"If Hoseok can somehow not completely hate me for doing something like that, I think he already forgives you for an accident that you did not intend."

The reply comes softer than Yoongi expects. "Yeah, ok."

"If it still bothers you, you can just tell him. He is always willing to listen." Yoongi smiles softly. "He'll tell you that it is not your fault."

The older Tiefling gathers the book from beside his feet and places it right next to his hip. He places his component pouch on top of it. He is getting ready to pass the night shift over to Jimin.

"Thank you."

"There is nothing to thank here, Taehyung."

Taehyung tries to wrap his mind around the tale he has been told. Things have changed now that he knows but the sorcerer is not sure if it is for the better. Taehyung does not want to hate Yoongi for the things he did but it is not something that is not easily forgiven.

"A question." Yoongi hums. "Have you used Suggestion since?"

Yoongi looks up at him. Taehyung's eyes burn into him as he stares.

"I see it. You're right about doubting me now. I am not to be fully trusted. You have suspicions. Good. Keep them that way. I am suspicious of myself too."

"Answer me, please."

Yoongi holds a second before he answers. "No. I don't think I can."

Their eyes stay locked onto each other as the clouds move above them. They stay that way for a good minute. Yoongi knows what he is looking for. If it was him from months ago, he would have been resistant to show anything. He makes sure that he keeps the contact long enough for Taehyung to be satisfied that this night is not just another tale Yoongi weaved in sinister intentions. He is sincere. Taehyung breaks away first with a nod.

"Then, alright."

"Alright then." He brushes his hands on his clothes. "Wake Jimin. It's their shift next."

Taehyung silently nods. His heart feels much lighter.

He taps Jimin on the shoulder. The young Aasimar whines. Taehyung shakes their shoulders.

"Wake up. Night shift."

Jimin shifts but they do not really wake up. Taehyung shakes them harder. They mindlessly reach out to hit Taehyung but eventually, Jimin wakes up.

"Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty. It is your and Jungkook's watch."

Jimin grumbles as they rub their eyes. They wave off Taehyung to his little patch of sleeping ground. They throw a small glare at Yoongi.

"I could take the shift alone."

"But company is always welcomed."

Yoongi turns in. He sleeps on his side so he would be facing Hoseok. He watches and counts the little fish before going right to sleep. Taehyung does the same, letting his mind wander into dreams.

The night is still. The moon is keeping her ever watchful eye on Chrysalis Moon. Jungkook grabs another log to keep the fire going. The wood that has been burning crackles at the new inclusion.

Jungkook looks at his watch buddy. Jimin is standing up and stretching out their limbs. Glittering sparkles shake behind them as the Aasimar stretches their arms up. Jungkook does not realise he has not shifted his gaze away from Jimin for a long while.

"You're supposed to be looking out of the dome, Jungkook. The night watch is supposed to be you looking out for ambushes, not looking directly at me."

"Oh, sorry. It's just, you look—"

"Enchanting?" They give Jungkook a glance. "Not like I haven't heard that one before. Someone would mention it at least once when I first meet them."

Jimin smiles sweetly. Jungkook still looks at them with awe. The Human fidgets with his hands. He keeps glancing from the fire to Jimin.

"Looks like you have questions."

"Ah, sorry."

"Stop apologising. It's not something you should be sorry for. If you have questions, ask." Jimin unties their hair, letting the strands fall where they may.

Jungkook hesitates. "How long have you had them?"

"Mm?" Jimin follows the young man's eyeline. "You mean these?"

The golden tracings of wings spread out. The glittering star-like lines shift and move like real wings behind them. Jungkook's eyes widen. His lips part gently. He nods. Jimin sits themself back down on the ground.

"Not long. It appeared after I finally took my oath to the Brawler himself, Kord. The same one that hangs from your own weapon."

Jimin lifts their wrist. They jangle the little charm of Kord's symbol on their bracelet. They also nod over to the halberd not too far from where Jungkook is sitting.

Jungkook looks at the hand-me-down. He reaches for the two carved symbols that hang at the end of the halberd. He touches the one that is the same as Jimin's. The wood is smooth and polished but has seen signs of battle. Little scratches are lined in the crest.

"This one isn't mine. It was already on Faithful Glory when it was given to me. I kept it as a reminder of my teacher taking me under their wing and teaching me how to fight. They're the reason I'm here. They suggested I go adventuring. It wasn't something I initially wanted to do, but I wanted to learn more. They told me I could learn more out in the world. That I would see others who know more and I could learn from. I've been learning a lot from all of you."

The celestial descendent listens diligently. "You follow Pelor then?"

Jungkook shakes his head. He pulls Faithful Glory closer and rubs the symbol for Pelor. The carving is newer, even with the scratches it has from fights. It is visibly made in haste with certain imperfections. He remembers the night he stayed up to make it before he left home. Jungkook thinks he might carve a new one to replace it. He looks at Jimin and smiles.

"This one is for my family. I am a farmer's son. This just serves to remind me that the Dawnfather watches over my family. I don't really pray to him other than to ask for my family's protection."

"It is kind of you to remember your family that way. I'm sure he watches them well."

Jungkook hums. Questions now run through the fighter's mind. Questions that seem to want answers from Jimin. Jimin invited the questions. Jungkook is curious. He wants to know. He always wants to know. He wants to understand a little more about the conflicts in his mind.

He plucks the courage and asks. "How did you find your God?"

"Find?"

"How did you choose to follow Kord? I've just prayed to The Dawnfather because of my family but..."

"You're not sure if that is right for you to do so?"

"Yeah. I wouldn't know what to ask of him or thank him when it came down to sending him prayers. It's not wrong but it does not feel right."

Jimin understands where he is coming from. Jimin had been in the same position years ago, wondering where they stood in the big world. They know they had guidance from the priest of the church. They are not sure how helpful they are going to be for Jungkook.

"I'm not a cleric. I'm not going to tell you to follow Kord because you fight with courage. I'm not going to tell you how great he is or things like that. It's something that you will have to learn for yourself."

"How?"

Jimin wonders how they can eloquently piece together the understanding of Higher Beings. This is not something they are equipped to do. They take in a deep breath and try to organise their thoughts.

"Some people find Gods or Patrons to guide their path. Some are found by them, taken under their care." Jimin looks at the ranger across from both of them. They watch one by one, the little fish hover around the ranger's sleeping body. "Some are taken, taught from young of faith. Others find God within themselves or others, choosing to find more strength in what they can do as mortals. Even a few think they are Gods themselves, trying to tangle other's paths for their own benefit."

Jimin pauses from their train of thoughts. Now thinking, they realise that the examples they are giving can be tied to one of each of the experiences the members of their group has. They turn around to look at Namjoon sleeping beside Seokjin.

"Or maybe you do not take heed of Gods and Patrons, or what divinity you can find in yourself. You just take in what the world gives you. You do not have to pray to a God. You do not have to ask for a Patron. Maybe you will find one. Maybe one will take you in. Maybe not at all and you are free to do what you will in the world without interference from bigger powers."

A rattling grows louder from the road. They both instinctually reach out for their weapons close to them. They look out behind them. A glittering fire in the form of a hanging lantern comes closer. It is a caravan driving down the main road. They just watch as it goes past.

The driver looks to be a very young Elven man with bright blue hair, dressed to the nines. The young Elf takes a glance to the hut. He does not slow down the caravan. There is another clatter and another figure appears from the hooded cart. The bright smile that appears on their face when the Elf sees the Tiefling brings one to Jimin's face as well. They must be close.

They both finally relax once the caravan is a little further away from their camp. The low lantern light is gently glowing down the road.

"How did you arrive under Kord?"

Jungkook immediately jumps back to the topic. Jimin holds in a laugh at the eagerness in his tone.

"I serve Kord because he was what showed me I had strength. He urged me from my lowest point and told me I was no coward. Things...happened in my village. They were things that I could have helped with but I didn’t because I was scared. I found that he showed me the strength and courage I had. I've looked to other Gods. I've tried to look within me on my own. It was only when I read teachings of the Brawler that I understood how to better myself."

Jungkook still looks at them with admiration. There is beauty in the way Jungkook looks to the world. Jimin wonders what words would come out of the innocent bunny like smile if he was asked questions about the world. They wonder what he would say about each of the people he is travelling with. Would they have half the beauty Jungkook holds in his heart if they were asked the same?

"I think you are very brave."

"Thank you. Being with Chrysalis Moon has been very helpful."

Jimin drags their weapon closer. Their hand picks up the soft leather string that is tied to the bottom of the scythe’s blade and proceeds to tie it tighter to the handle. Jungkook notices the gentle touches that linger on the empty string as Jimin works on Feather's Grace. Jungkook decides he might make a charm to hang on the string. He wonders if he has enough coin to get materials to make charms for the entire party.

"What is it like to be a paladin of the Brawler?"

"You're really taking my advice of questions seriously." They joke.

Jungkook laughs, embarrassed. He looks down and messes with his long fringe. Jimin pushes Jungkook's arm.

"I just haven't had people to talk to about it. Namjoon and Seokjin didn't seem to be the right people to ask. They seem so sure of themselves and they don't carry symbols. I didn't want to ask them. You're different. You carry your guide on your wrist."

"Well, my actions are still my own. I just hold on to my pledge as I do so. It gives me a direction. Gives me a handle of what I wanted to do with my life. I can see why you'd ask me. Namjoon seems to have other things going on his plate. I am not sure about Seokjin. You could also ask Taehyung. I'm sure he wouldn't mind being asked about Bahamut."

It is obvious from Jungkook's face that he is trying to make notes. The slow nod of his head together with the tilt of his head is endearing.

"Gods and Patrons are still beings with goals, you have to learn them. See where you stand. If your goals align with theirs and they help you guide your life, maybe that's where you'll be. If none of them suit your taste, it would be fine as well."

"Thank you, Jimin. Really. You won't mind if I keep coming to you about this, would you?"

"I'll help you on your journey. We all will. Just don't be afraid to ask, not just me. Maybe we'd find a library for you to start when we get to town."

"A library would be fun. Namjoon has been looking for one since I first met him."

"I think a lot of the party would like to be in a library for a while. But not Hoseok though. He'd probably want to stay out here in the wilderness."

Jungkook agrees with a quiet hum. He places Faithful Glory back to where it was earlier.

"But he's not exactly someone you'd leave to be alone. The Fae fish are not enough supervision."

Jimin laughs at that. They fall over, covering over their mouth to stop from being too loud. Jungkook had not meant it to be hilarious but it hit a nerve on Jimin's funny bone. Jungkook can't help but chuckle along.

The celestial descendent takes a deep breath in. They starfish out on their little patch of dirt. A shadow of a bird flies across the sky. Jimin reaches up with one arm and points out a bright star in the sky. They calculate the time with the position of the stars. They sigh. The night watch had passed them by quicker than they thought.

"It seems that our shift is closing up."

"I'll wake Namjoon. You can go back to sleep."

"Good night, Kookie."

Jungkook waits for Jimin to actually fall asleep. He lets the silence wash over him as he waits. He stokes the fire to keep it going for the rest of Namjoon's shift. He is aware of the quiet breathing of the people sleeping within the tiny hut. He looks down to the quarter staff that lays parallel to Namjoon's body. He has noticed the habit of the Half-Elf doing so, even when they take board in an inn. He reaches out over it and pats the older man on the shoulder.

"Namjoon? Namjoon, wake up. It's the last shift."

The druid wakes up with a few quick blinks. He groans as he tries to sit up from the ground. His back needs a good stretch. He wonders when he would be cut out to be able to sleep comfortably on dirt. How do the rest of them feel fine sleeping on the floor like this? He blames himself for losing his comfy bedroll at times like this.

"I've fed the fire so you don't have to worry about it going out the rest of the night. Hope your back's ok."

Namjoon finally realises who it is that woke him up. He is a little confused but nods all the same. He tells the younger to go to sleep as he tries to force himself to wake up his thoughts. It does not help with the surrounding being quiet and the fire's crackling being such a comfort. He slaps himself on the cheek as a head start.

He looks over at his designated night watch partner. Seokjin looks comfortable sleeping facing away from the rest of them. He mentally tempts himself to take the watch alone. The longer the silence drones without Namjoon having something to do, the less the temptation seems great. He does not have his books and notes to keep him distracted from the loneliness that is the night. He supposes it would be fine to wake the bard.

"Seokjin." Namjoon places a hand on their arm gently as he whispers their name.

They jolt awake with a gasp. A light sleeper by force. They grab the tip of their hood and pulls it further down their face. Namjoon gently squeezes their bicep as comfort.

"Hey, it's ok. It's just me. Last shift."

"Namjoon, you scared me."

The Half-Elf watches Seokjin sit up with their hood still up. He can see the tone of their skin change under the hood even in the lowlight. He frowns.

They stay the night watch in silence. What used to be unnaturally comfortable to them becomes disconcerting for Namjoon. He is thinking. He is always thinking but this time it bothers him far too much. Seokjin pulls the mask they have so quickly now. Even now that they are awake with only just the two of them, Seokjin keeps the face.

It crawls under his skin that Seokjin has to hide who they are to the others. Seokjin, strong Seokjin who loves to stand in the face of creatures with bravado, running away from them when they are watched with this Human face. It really does swirl in his mind how far back Seokjin stood in the afternoon combat the moment they got so close to unconsciousness.

Seokjin is not afraid of death. The way they have pranced around a battlefield next to Namjoon tells him well enough. He has been told by the person themself that they do not mind dying alone. The fear of being known as a Changeling is what rules their battles. But he does not understand.

"Why do you keep up the ruse with the others? Yoongi and I know. We don't treat you any different. I am sure the others wouldn't either."

Seokjin laughs. "You don't know that. You can never truly know what someone thinks until they tell you, that is if they choose to tell you the truth."

Namjoon cannot help the stare. Seokjin smiles brightly at him.

"I don't know what your feelings are of me. I don't know what Yoongi thinks of me. I would like to think that you both view of me nicely. That you treat me kindly for who I am and not out of what my race has been." They look out of the dome, far into the dark of the forest that he can see at the end of the field. Their smile slowly fades. "The world is not kind. It has never been."

Namjoon looks away from Seokjin. That was not something he thought he'd hear with how much life he performs his ballads. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in. He wants to say it back, the world is not kind. The people in this world are not particularly kind. They are mean, prideful, selfish. They are human. The world is excruciatingly flawed and human. But not all of it is bad.

He opens his eyes to the view in front of him. A group of people, barely strangers now, sleeping under the same dome. All of them of very different backgrounds and goals but they are all gathered right there in front of him, asleep. They are all sound asleep.

"Do you trust us?"

"Excuse me?"

Namjoon reaches an open palm towards the Changeling. He leaves it there hanging but he does not look at it. He keeps looking at each of the members of Chrysalis Moon. From Jungkook, to Jimin, to Taehyung, to Hoseok and finally to Yoongi. All in a circle with Namjoon and Seokjin just outside of it. He looks at Crescent Snow that divides them from the circle. He knows he put the quarterstaff there himself but now it does not feel as arbitrary as he initially placed it.

"Do you trust us, Seokjin?"

He asks it louder than the mere whisper he did before. There is a firmness in the question.

Seokjin is taken aback. "I—I don't know what you mean."

The Half-Elf takes back his hand. He turns his body towards Seokjin.

"I trust them more than I would a random stranger on the road. I trust you."

Namjoon shuffles closer to Seokjin and takes their hand as if to test those words. Seokjin jolts at the touch. They ease at Namjoon's concerned features. They hold the given hand tightly between both their hands. They let Namjoon come even closer.

He cups the side of their face. His thumb brushes over Seokjin's bottom lip and he pulls it down. He knows how much Seokjin hates their teeth. They do not like laughing out loud, they hate smiling so wide, and all because of their teeth. Their sharp teeth that betray this costume so tightly fitted on their skin.

"Namjoon!" They hiss and pull back.

Namjoon keeps himself close to Seokjin. His hand remains by Seokjin's cheek. "The world is mean and dumb. It is selfish."

He looks at the Changeling but Namjoon can't really focus, not with the features of the face being so distinctly Human and only Human. He stares for a second before he closes his eyes. "It's angry, and sad, and confused. It's all the bad things but they are good too."

His hand slips down to the side of Seokjin's neck. His other hand reaches out blindly to the other's bicep and sits there. He takes a deep breath in.

"You are good. You are kind. You are strong. You are kind but the world is not. You are so kind but you can't...please everyone." Namjoon looks up into the brown irises. A conflicted smile tugs at his lips. "You can never please everyone."

Seokjin takes hold of Namjoon's wrist. He can feel the cold of their touch seeping into his skin. Seokjin pulls his hands away from them. Their face turns stoic.

"I am a Changeling, Namjoon. I am born to change, mould to what people think is the best of me. I am made to please. The features of a Changeling are a blank slate to create parasites that people trust so that they would let down their guard. We are made to blend in so that no one would suspect they have been infiltrated."

They do not let Namjoon say anything. Their guise shifts back to its original state. Their skin loses colour and Namjoon hesitates. The brown irises of the eyes bleed and pale into fully grey. The pretty brown hair darkens blacker than the night sky. The features harden and there is a light anger that is seated on the brow.

"Is this what you want to see?"

Namjoon does not miss a beat. "Yes."

"And what do you see?"

"You. Seokjin."

The way he says it is so genuine. The eyes locked onto theirs is so filled with sincerity. The anger grows.

"You are sorely mistaken, gentle druid." They lean into Namjoon's space now, grabbing his clothes. "Let me tell you what you see. You see a creature of pale skin. A colour so pale that it is whiter than even the top layer of fresh snow. You see soulless eyes that see right through you. They're hollow and starving, craving to be filled. You see teeth sharp like daggers, the only warning you'll ever see before they take you under."

Namjoon is unfazed by the simmering outburst. Calmly, he asks, "And who are you? Is Seokjin the image of a Human or the ingrained stereotype of a Changeling?"

Seokjin lets go of his collar suddenly. He falls onto his back. He sees the stars glittering out in the darkness. The moon smiles down upon him. The question rings differently in his mind.

Who am I then? Is Namjoon the Human or the Elf? Aren't I both?

The air in Namjoon's lungs leaves easier. He feels stupid. All of this is just a different reflection of himself. He covers over his face with his arm in embarrassment. It was not that he did not understand. He does, all too well. He just did not want Seokjin to be the same. They are stuck in between.

He knows he has his own mask that he puts on in the face of the council. It is the way he has to present himself in a strict conduct and not let them think he is not worthy of being the next in line to take over his father's spot in the head circle. The fake confidence he places to make him look like he belongs there. The act of having to be an Elf like that is the only thing he is and not that he has Human blood in him.

He then remembers his mother, his lovely mother. One of the few people that he does not pretend with. Her concerned brown eyes that shower him with love whenever he comes back from his library studies. The splint of guilt that happens when he sees her. And then he remembers the words whispered when he is barely conscious on his study desk.

Namjoon gets up from his laid position. Seokjin is still looking at him with slight confusion and anger. He takes in a big breath and says the things he had hoped to tell himself. The words that his mother always tells him instead.

"For all the kindness that you have given to an unfair world, I hope that you give that same kindness to yourself. For all the love you've poured into your songs and performances, I hope that you will give your true self the same love it deserves. And personally, Seokjin, I find you beautiful when you're just you and not the mask you put on."

He pushes the long strands of Seokjin's hair behind the Changeling's ears. Namjoon pulls himself away from Seokjin with a short smile. He stands up and dusts the dirt from his pants. He takes hold of Crescent Snow.

"I'm taking a walk to check the perimeter. I'll be back soon."

The dawn comes much slower than the evening did. Seokjin is tempted to count the seconds till the first light of day but they do not. They know it is just a paltry excuse for them to ignore the idea of what just happened between them and the druid. They shake their head when the thoughts finally settle. They change back to their human skin before the rest of Chrysalis Moon wakes up.

They breathe out the anger, a moment of silent meditation for themself. They clear out the useless thoughts. They have seen Namjoon. They have seen the way that he changes around people. It then becomes clearer without the anger. Seokjin sighs internally.

"Are you ok?"

Jimin asks Seokjin as they help tie Jungkook's hair up in a small top knot. Jungkook looks concerned as well. Seokjin sees that Yoongi and Hoseok are in the process of putting on their armour and Taehyung is playing with the campfire. Everyone has woken up.

"I'm fine."

"Did you and Namjoon get into an argument?"

"What makes you say that?"

Jimin shrugs. "Maybe the fact that he's not here. And also the fact that you had been spacing out. You didn't respond to Taehyung when he said good morning to you."

"I'm sorry. There's just a lot on the mind. It doesn't mean it has to do with Namjoon though."

"It's totally about Namjoon. There's the look in his eyes." Jungkook snides. "Just let them be. They'll work it out soon enough."

Seokjin picks up a tiny rock from the ground and throws it at the younger. Jungkook just laughs when it hits him on the shoulder. He has known Seokjin and Namjoon longer than the others and it is starting to show.

"Did you sleep well?"

Hoseok pauses as he awkwardly tries to tie the strings to his leather arm braces. "Yeah. It was a good sleep. It just has been awhile since we've camped. The ground was good."

"Still not used to a bed yeah?"

"The ground is much better. It feels very familiar."

Yoongi opens his palm in offering. Hoseok gives him his arm to tie the strings properly. The long fingers set to work deftly. Dart takes the opportunity to swim around Yoongi's arms.

"Taehyung ended up taking the night shift with me. I told him almost everything. He was worried about yesterday."

Hoseok tenses. "How is he?"

"Suspicious of me but he should be." His eyes drift to the sorcerer. "He'll talk to you. He'll want reassurance."

"You're not as bad as you think."

Yoongi gives him a look. Hoseok takes hold of Yoongi's wrist.

"You aren't. You're not evil. These people around us see that."

"But they don't know."

"So prove yourself in the present that you are not that thing you used to be. Be a better person in the future. Don't do it for me. Don't do it for them either. Do it for yourself cause you can prove to yourself that you are not that ruthless power hungry man. I know that already. That's what they know. It's now just for you to know."

Dart has made its way up to Yoongi's neck. It brushes the side of its body against the Tiefling's neck. Hoseok lets go of the older man's hand and dusts off his pants. He readies to put on the rest of the armour. Yoongi guides Dart gently back to Hoseok with a push of two fingers.

He turns away from the ranger. He sees Taehyung still stretching about at the fire. He thinks about the question Taehyung asked him just before they ended the night shift. He guesses that Hoseok is right about others trying to find good in him. Yoongi makes his way to join Taehyung in clearing the campfire.

"I'll try." He says to Hoseok.

"Trying is the best thing you can do to start."

Namjoon returns to the members of his party getting ready for the next trek of the way to the city. The tiny hut has gone and the Tieflings are milling around the small slowly dying campfire. Taehyung uses Control Flame to put the fire out completely with a swift twist of his hand. Hoseok is by the horses, stretching. Jungkook and Jimin are working around the cart. They are donning up their respective armours. Namjoon heads towards them, ready to put on his own leather armour.

Nearing the end of him putting on his armour, Seokjin tugs at the collar of Namjoon's shirt and pulls him away from the others. He stumbles along, confused. They pull him closer for just a second. They give him a short peck on his cheek and then pushes away.

"That was a mess earlier. You had no right to push into how I present myself to strangers. You have no say in the way I wear my mask when your own is such a mess the second you are greeting Land Circles. Ever take your own advice?" Seokjin frowns. "But...You are correct. I have been holding onto this face because I am scared."

Seokjin does not look Namjoon in the eye. Their hand suddenly keeps busy on Namjoon's collar, straightening it out and dusting it off. They tug at Namjoon's leather armour as if they are ensuring the druid is wearing it correctly. Which they have to, with all the strings tied like a child did it. They redo them as they speak.

"I do like this image that I made but it's not exactly me. I liked it better when I didn't keep it on around you. It felt safe to be a Changeling when I stood next to you. I'm not a Human. I am a Changeling but that does not mean I am a hunter." They tug the strings tight enough. Namjoon lets them, standing still like a child being scolded. "I will tell them in my own time, Namjoon-ah. When I am a little more comfortable with them, I will tell them. I trust you more than I trust them, only because I know more of you. And when I know more, they'll know more."

"Of course, in your own time. I'm sorry. I just—"

"Saw part of yourself in me that you wanted to somehow fix. You're good, Namjoon. You are a strong leader and you are smart. I don't think you need to fix much. I'm sure of it. And if you ever truly need help with it, I know I can be your comfort space too." They pat Namjoon's chest armour with all the necessary adjustments done. They speak loudly. "There you go. Now you're wearing your armour. You really have to be better with your knots, Joonie. It's like no one taught you."

Namjoon laughs quietly. He nods and thanks them. He watches them walk away to the cart to help Jungkook and Jimin push it to the path.

"Did no one really teach you?"

"Oh Gods! You are way too quiet for your own good."

Namjoon clutches at his heart as Yoongi walks up from behind him. Yoongi has a cheeky smile and a laugh on his lips. Namjoon wishes he wouldn't.

"I can teach you how to tie a knot down the road if you want to."

"Yeah, that would be nice. I should learn."

Hoseok busies himself around the horses. He starts untying the leads from the tree. Namjoon and Yoongi come by and take two of the horses to hitch them to the cart that is now on the road. There is a mention of teaching Namjoon how to hitch horses as well.

Hoseok laughs with a ‘good luck’ passing his lips. His little friends swirl around, stirring the air around his hair. Little strands float as if he is underwater. The bright joy radiates from him. The horse next to him whinnies. The sound spooks his fish for just a second. He pushes away Reed from in front of his face. The Fae fish hurriedly swims away from his line of sight. He reaches out to pat the pretty black horse on its neck.

"Uh, Hoseok."

Hoseok turns. Taehyung nervously fidgets with the braces on his arms. Hoseok tilts his head in question.

"I just wanted to apologise for yesterday's injury. How is it?"

Hoseok looks to the burn on his arm. "It's doing ok. It'll be fine. Nothing that won't heal in time. Why are you apologising though?"

"I was the one that burned you."

Hoseok smiles at that. He mentally tells his little goldfish to circle the Tiefling. They swirl around him in comfort. Hoseok takes a wandering hand and squeezes it gently.

"It was an accident, Taetae. It's not your fault. Things like this happen in a fight. You have to be brave and understand that injuries happen even from your own party. I'm not blaming you for anything. Don't hold on to this as guilt. If it helps, thank you for apologising and I've forgiven you. Now, help me get these horses ready for the road."

He notices Yoongi watching them with a slight smile on his lips. He gives Yoongi a gentle nod. He gives one back before being interrupted by a panicking Namjoon. Yoongi's face turns into obvious annoyance. Yoongi goes on to help out with whatever that Namjoon had accidentally done. He can hear the loud laughter of everyone else watching the scene.

Hoseok takes the reins to the black horse and pulls it over. He tilts his head in a motion to urge Taehyung to follow. His fish follow him one by one. Quiver, the smallest of the creatures, lingers for just a moment and bumps into Taehyung's cheek before catching up with the rest of its brethren. Taehyung lights up in relief and reaches out to get the last horse.

They move a little quicker now that they are more awake. They assign themselves to their respective places for their next league. Taehyung takes a horse, as does Namjoon. Seokjin chooses to take the same horse as the druid. The rest settle on the cart with Yoongi and Jimin in the driving seat.

Sitting in the cart, Hoseok takes time to feel the change in his team. Each of them look lighter in their steps, brighter in their smiles. All of them are still burdened with their own weights but under the light of the moon, beside a comforting campfire, they have slowly loosen a few of the shackles that hold them. He hopes that they will have more opportunities to let themselves be seen. Hoseok smiles to himself and thanks Selune for her watch in the night as he restrings his bow.

[mlkydrms]

Eve of 1st January 2025

Different Beginning

⚜️ Mansion Staff (Pyn, Malaikar, Cassius, and mentioned Zunair) ⚜️ 944 words ⚜️ A/n: I’m keeping some hopes up for the new year but not too high. I intend to be more active. I want to get more fics out. I’ve been writing a bit more than I was the last few years. I just need the things to be done. So, here’s to the new year and to punching the procrastination down as much as I can.

There is a weird rustle outside of the window. The caretaker wonders if they should look. It is not too uncommon of an occurrence for random noise to appear but an odd little niggling in the back of their mind says something else.

Pyn swings the round attic window outwards. He notices the feather drifting down in front of him first. His sights follow the turns of the black feather. His vision then widens to the backyard. Large poles are dotted around the open yard before the garden. Lines of string lights are hung between them, most decorating the tall gate to the garden itself. A certain snake is coiled up one of the poles, affixing what seems to be the last of the lights.

The caretaker turns his head up. A lone leg is swinging from the roof above them. Simply judging from the precariously hanging black open back loafer on the foot (and the previously seen black feather), Malaikar has perched himself in hearing distance.

“Are we celebrating something?”

There is no answer except for a stop in the swing of the leg. The fox leans his arms on the window sill and huffs. There was probably a shrug attracted to the action to serve as a reply.

“It's been at it since the afternoon.” The voice finally comes, confused at best.

They tilt their head. Afternoon? Cassius didn't mention anything about any decorations. They lean forward, taking a breath in before speaking loudly.

“Cassie, are we celebrating something?”

The snake slips on the pole at the sudden question. It looks up at him. There is a momentary scowl at the angel sitting close but big round eyes set on the caretaker.

“It is the new year.”

“That it will be.” Malaikar chuckles.

More confusion fills Pyn’s mind. “We don't really celebrate new years though?”

“Not that we celebrate anything at all, you mean.”

Malaikar drops from the roof. A smug little smile is on his face. He lands on the picnic blanket placed by the gardener’s burrow. Pyn tilts their head once again. What the angel said is true. The mansion is not quite the celebratory place. Or at least it isn't as they want it to be.

Cassius stops his movement. “Is this wrong? Would you like me to tear this down, little morsel?”

“No, no. I think it looks nice.”

“So shall I carry Zunair over later?”

Malaikar lays down, wings spread across the blanket. His arms are crossed behind his head to serve as a momentary cushion. His sight is set on the fox intensely.

“Huh?”

Cassius finishes hanging the light. It slides down the pole. A comically gentle thud is present as the weight of coiled muscle hits the ground.

“Shall we celebrate just amongst ours?”

“Are you already thinking about snacks, Scales?”

They lightly banter as Pyn's forehead turns into a baffled scrunch. Are the thoughts moving faster than he is registering again? His staff are already making quick plans.

“What? Wait, wait, wait. So we're celebrating new years?”

Malaikar stops his banter with the gardener. “Why not?” You'd like to.”

New years eve, or even day for that matter, always seemed to pass them by so quietly. Even just this last new year, the only pomp was a simple conversation with the butler and nothing more. It was always a simple conversation and no other festivities.

As if reading their mind, “I have said before, step by step. Moment to moment. It doesn't have to be grand. Just a simple stay out to bring in a new year.”

“If not the new year, a different beginning.” Cassius suggests, “A small gathering of just us four looking forward to the future with our new names.”

The end of his tail hits the ground at a steady tempo. Pyn’s own tail begins to swing just the same. He takes in a few breaths as he thinks. He hears a rising beat of his heart.

Yeah. Why not? A simple get-together. Just the four of them. Nothing grandeur. Step by step. Moment to moment. And this is nothing if not an actual moment.

“Ok. We'll celebrate.”

“Wonderful! I will pick out some snacks and some wine to pair as well.”

Pyn wags their tail, excitement finally coming through. It is just them but it would be fun. They do not have to think too far into the future. It is just them in the present and they will take it in stride.

“I'll help. I'll come down.”

The clouds in the sky move ever so slowly. He listens to the round window of the attic close with a squeak. The snake has also entered the kitchen through the back door leaving him alone in the backyard.

The mansion’s butler takes a long breath out. He clenches and unclenches his left hand. Maybe this year things will get going. Maybe this year the mansion will feel a little more alive. He feels it in Pyn’s actions, the caretaker is feeling more active.

It's not an excuse for him to get his hopes up for himself of course. He understands he will have to let that go but if Pyn can do more, feel more, then the future doesn't seem so dull. All he needs is the little fox to want for things. The less they think about the emptiness of the void, the better the outcome will be.

Maybe Cassius is good for both of them. He would never admit but having the immortal snake around is a good thing. He sighs.

Malaikar gets up with a roll of his eyes. “I guess I'll go get my beloved then.”

[mlkydrms]

2nd January 2024 - New Year

🐾 Realm!Taehyung & Caretaker Pyn (oc)

🐾 Word count: 533

🐾 Notes: No warnings apply. Just a short fic about my two braincells talking to each other. Literally nothing of importance.

========================

The new year has passed as it always has, without much fuss and without much care. There isn't much different between the old year and new. No cause for celebrations. No occasion to mark the time.

It is quiet. It is always quiet in the mansion. Noise is hard to come by unless it comes in the form of bickering.

"Ah." A gentle sigh. "How much effort do you think this year will take?"

A single tail wags in the air lazily. The lead Caretaker has his cheek squished against the armrest of the sofa. His arms are tucked under him.

"As much as you'll give it. If you wish for us to prosper, then more effort will have to be taken from you." The raven-winged man replies.

"I hate it when you're right."

Pyn is sure that there is a smirk on the other person's face. He dares not look at him. His tail just drops as he grumbles.

"Is there anything that you want to do this year?"

"Sure there is."

He sits up with a pout. There are so many things that he would like to do. For things to come to fruition however takes so much time and too much effort. At least, more than he is willing to give or more than his mental capacity will allow.

"I wish for more people to visit."

"They'll need a reason to visit."

"The renovations take time. I take far too long. And even then..."

"No use thinking about the negatives."

"Absolutely rich coming from you." Pyn rolls his eyes.

Realm!Taehyung turns around to give him a look. The crafting hands pause. A wing twitches. There is a deep breath. 

"Look, it's the start of the year. It's better to be in higher spirits."

"Is it your new year's resolution to be more positive this year?"

"No, my beau has commented on how I talk with you. He is not exactly thrilled at the idea of how my interactions with you go most of the time. Not quite grasping that it is how I...care, if that is the word."

"Sure... I think I'll talk to him. We can still bicker. It's better if we bicker. I feel more sane if we bicker."

He nods, almost in relief. Realm!Taehyung returns to his project. "Either way, it's easier to take things step by step, or moment to moment. Doesn't have to be anything grand. We're never grand anyway."

"So, one renovation to another?"

"Then everything will follow after."

The Caretaker lays back down on the sofa. He curls up, thinking about their conversation. His eyes close. He thinks about what is to be done. Like every year before this one, there is only ever a simple list of things to do.

One thing after the other. Not as a measure of negatives. Simply just a list of tasks that will make them grow.

One task to another. A year after the other. It is always the same. Nothing has to change too fast. They will gradually reach their goal.

"Thanks, Angel."

"Of course. You need me. You're useless on your own, Fox."

"I give an inch, you take a mile. You stupid bird."

[mlkydrms]

Not As a Daughter of Hers

Dear Sun, o father of mine  You claim me as your son  and take me under your care  but why, o father  does the Moon still bless me? 

I am no longer her daughter  I still hear her call in the evening  I still hear her whispers in the dawn 

I am no longer a daughter of hers  why does she bless me so? 

 "Young child, my dear found son  She blesses you as you are still hers  to care for, to love, to protect  but not as a daughter of hers 

 "Dear child, my young growing man  She blesses you with strength  as a warrior, a fighter  but not as a daughter of hers 

 "The Moon loves you  and she blesses you so  hoping you still find comfort in her  but never as a daughter of hers 

 "She loves you,  as I do my dear son  As you are  As you change and grow 

 "She loves you,  never as a daughter of hers  She hopes to love you  as a son, returned but never abandoned 

 "Child, watch the skies  Dry your sweet tears  Our blessings do not waver 

 "We are your loving father and mother  and you are our devoted son."

[mlkydrms]

N-th September 2024

What Is The Fantasy In A Name?

⚜️ Caretaker Pyn & Gardener ******* ⚜️ 1434 words ⚜️ A/n: The Gardener uses he/it pronouns. It is used for ease of reading between characters. We stay silly with absolutely no beta reading.

There is barely a bird in the trees to the back of the mansion. An ouroboros is in the midst of its duties as a gardener. The water from the hose sprays far into the flowers. Under its breath, the snake hums as it works. Quiet steps come up behind it.

“Hello, little morsel.”

The caretaker only replies with a quiet hum. He squats down next to the snake. Pyn watches the small water droplets run off the bells of the foxgloves in front of him. There is a light dread that hangs in his heart.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing wrong. I have something to say.”

“Yet, you only speak when prompted.”

“I’m just a little worried. Would you get angry at me?”

“Is this a concern or a request?”

Pyn’s nose scrunches. He turns to look at the snake. It is looking at him as if this was a normal question to ask.

“Why would I even request that?”

“How am I to know? There is a whimsy to some of your asks. Either way, I would likely prefer to not have anger towards you.”

Pyn lets out a huff.

The sound of spraying water slowly fades away. The tap is closed with the turn of its tail. It places the hose down on the ground as it lowers its body. If to picture, it looks like it would be sitting on its haunches if it were in its fully humanoid form. It places its hands on its lap.

“What is it that you would like to say, Nep? I promise that I will not get angry.”

Is it insulting or is it comforting that the creature next to him is treating him like a child? Pyn cannot seem to tell. It is a weird crossing of signals in his mind when he tries to think about it. There are much more pressing things right now than that weird feeling.

The caretaker considers the words. He thinks back to what the fallen angel had said. Is it enough to just be by his side? He is inadequate enough as a caretaker. Is it sufficient to be the creator and nothing else?

Quietly, almost under his breath, Pyn finally says, “I would like it if you were a true muse.”

“Fascinating.”

The weird turning feeling in his stomach churns at the one word. Was Malaikar wrong? The angel has rarely been wrong since his canon.

“That would be quite interesting. I believe I would like that actually.”

The brows furrow first and then begins the thinking. Pyn tilts his head. It is not a rejection. It is quite the opposite. It is the answer he is hoping for but his thoughts flip once again.

“Are you sure?”

“Why would I not be?”

“It means…Your story…”

“It would not be finished. Yes, I gathered as much considering how much of it there is in the first place.”

Pyn ignores the light jab. “You're not angry about that? I thought that you'd maybe… I thought you'd be a little angry about it never being completed.”

“Did you really want me to be?” A soft chuckle escapes its lips as the caretaker gives him a very quick shake of his head. “I do not care. I have never cared about your progress with regards to my WIP. I have nothing harboured towards it in the first place. You worry too much that I may turn like Feathers. I do not. I will not.”

“Why don't you?”

“You understand that he and I are very different, yes? Both of us might say the exact opposite of each other. We actually are, the more you think about it.”

“You're telling me I've been overthinking you getting angry at me.”

“When have you not, little morsel?”

Pyn scrunches his nose with a pout. Maybe Malaikar was right. Pyn does hate it when Malaikar is right. At least, the angel isn't here to gloat about it in a sense. A small shiver runs down his spine before he shakes the image out of his mind.

“Is there a name you’d like?”

It hums loudly. A finger pushes up against its jaw in a fake pondering pose. Pyn rolls his eyes at this.

After few seconds, it finally answers. “I am not sure. Do you want to choose one for me?”

“It’s your name though.”

“I know. I trust you. I am not really smart enough to think of a name.”

Pyn throws his arms up in disbelief. “Do I just create liars in this house? Sir, you created a fucking cult around you. A very, very devoted one at that. You want to have me believe that you’re not smart enough to think of a name for yourself?”

“Maybe I just prefer a name from you, Nep.”

A different kind of twist flips the fox's stomach. When and how did this creation become such an adoring character for him? It did not start out this way. Pyn tries to push the confusion out of his mind. Better not dwell on it too much, however...

“Maybe Laik is right. You need to stop doting on me in this way.”

“Do you hate it?”

“Possibly. I do think it’s a bit too much. No wait. It is too much.”

The snake chuckles. “I will reduce my affections then.”

“Affections my foot. It's an uncomfortable kind of worship.”

“Alright, alright. I get it. I will take you off the pedestal. However, I do prefer that my name be chosen by you. You gave me much already so please, if it happens to be the last thing that I may ask of you, choose one for me.”

“It's because I've made so much of you that I want you to be able to choose this for yourself.”

“And my choice is to be named by you.”

The caretaker stares at it with a squint. The gardener only stares back. The lightest of sighs leaves Pyn's lungs.

“You're not letting this go, are you?”

“Not at all.” It smiles, fangs peeking from its lips. “I am sure that Feathers chose a name for himself, did he not?”

“He did…”

“That is because he has a fantasy of himself that I do not. There is a self that he knows, beginning, middle and end, so a name may complete that fantasy of his. It makes him feel whole, maybe even real. I do not have such a desire for that kind of fantasy.”

“Then what do you desire?”

“You know what I am. I have hunger, not desire. Being here is already enough for me. I am watched. I am fed. My hunger never fades and yet, I am satisfied with the way it is.”

“But your story–”

“Does not have to exist for me to, does it?”

“Not particularly.”

“And that is alright with me. If there is a version of me that exists even without a name, that is alright with me. As long as I remain here in the clutter of your mind, I do not mind what or who I am. A name holds no fantasy to me. Nothing harboured, nothing lost. I only stand to gain from you.”

Pyn allows himself to lean back and fall onto the grass. His head meets thick muscle. Its snake body is at the perfect distance from him to serve as a pillow. It is a little funny that for a creature its length and size, whatever movement its lower body makes is silent against the grass. When did it begin curling around him anyway?

The caretaker watches the sky move above him. The snake remains seated beside him quietly.

His mind swirls with letters. Names are ridiculously easy for the caretaker. There are always a few hovering in his mind. One by one, they line up. Choosing one on his own always seemed to be much more annoying than letting the muse take most of the reigns. He grumbles a little.

“Fine, how about this? I just randomly say names that I have in mind and you stop me when you hear one that you think you'd like.”

“Would that not be me choosing a name for myself then.” A silly little smirk crawls onto its face.

“I'm trying here. I have a lot of names just hanging around. Picking one out of the lot of them is not really my forte. You people tend to be the first to voice and opinion.”

“Alright then. How about we narrow it down to a pool of five and then we choose one together?”

“Deal.”

[mlkydrms]

7th July 2024

Name To Hold True

🏘️ Caretaker Pyn & Butler Realm!Tae 🏘️ 1577 Words 🏘️ A/n: Pyn uses He/they pronouns. They is used in this fic for ease of reading between characters. Also, no beta cause I'm silly like that. One instance of vulgarity.

They are not sure how long it is since they propped themself up on the reception table. It could be five minutes, it could be an hour. It is not that they minded. The caretaker is only left to wait.

They could knock on the simple wooden door but they refrain from doing so. Instead they let their eyes wander the grain of the wood. Their eyes catch on the ornate carving on the top corner. It is barely noticeable from afar. An overly complex R is carved out of the material. They know what it stands for. A sting hits Their heart.

The door suddenly opens outward. A fallen angel steps through the weird shimmer of the entryway behind the door.

"Hey, uh...Angel."

The man closes the door gently. It is not a shock to the angel to see the caretaker waiting. It is, however, interesting to see the young fox with knees to their chest and tails swishing over the butler's desk. His eyes linger on Pyn before turning into a distrusting squint.

"Something's wrong."

"I wouldn't call it wrong. Just...something different. A change."

"What change? I don't know of any change." He raises a brow.

"It's more a personal thing than a full on mansion thing. What do you think of names?"

"A way to refer to people. Why? Are you thinking of changing names again? That doesn't usually deserve this kind of dramatics. It would be a simple thing. There's something else going on here."

"Astute. If you were given the chance, what would you pick for yourself?"

"Me? Oh there are thousands of names out there, little kit, but I do have some that I would lean towards."

Another distrusting squint returns. The angel's body shifts unconsciously in front of the door. He leans against the entryway. His arms fold. Pyn lets out the smallest huff of air out of their nose. They fight down the smile coming up to their lips. The angel is still ever protective of his origins.

"Are you wanting to rip my name away so that I disappear forever?"

"By the gods that would be great for real me's night terrors but no, I wouldn't do that. It's kind of the opposite. Would you like to be a true muse?"

The question hangs in the air for a few solid seconds. It shouldn't really take that long for the angel to process what he's said. The brows suddenly furrow on the angel's face and Pyn's heart rate rises.

"Alright, I'll fully bite. What brought this on?"

"I have been thinking."

"As if you ever stop."

"Shut up. As I was saying, I was thinking. It's been a few solid years now..."

"2016." The angel interrupts with a flat tone.

"Don't remind me. You've been a very consistent muse despite my attitude towards your WIP and you've very much come into your own, away from your original inspiration. It felt like, you'd be better off as..."

"An original character, or 'true muse' as you say."

The angel air quotes the term with the slightest disgust. He knows the term is just a way to differentiate between original characters and fan muses that stay in the mansion. The mansion just carries more fan muses than other such muses. Pyn only nods to confirm the sentence. 

"Doesn't sound too bad but I'm sure there's a catch."

"Just one. Your true origins are scrapped. It will never be placed out there. You can keep the face and all the other stuff. I just need to take the name and your old WIP away. I need to scrap the bits that are obviously, jarringly taken from the inspiration."

"That's fine by me. I've given up on that."

There is barely even a moment of hesitation as he says it. Pyn knows better though. The turn of the head, the rise of the shoulder.

"Liar."

"Of course I'm a liar. In all honesty, I still will want something of myself to be real, to be given to the world."

"Being here isn't enough for you."

"I did not say that. However, being an empty muse will not be enough. I just need something. Something not tied to the mansion directly. Something tied to me. Something that is me in the context of my world, my lore."

"I know. I want that too. And if you'd be willing in the future, I'd make something new for you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Not quite. I can't promise this. You know how I am but I am willing. I'm always willing, for a story."

He keeps his eye contact with the caretaker. "I'll take it."

"Great. I need you to pick yourself a name. I'll handle everything else for the change."

"Give me a short moment to think of a name. On the other hand, have you asked the snake about this?"

"No, not yet. I wanted to ask you first."

The feathers of the angel's wings seem to fluff up ever so slightly. The caretaker huffs with a roll of the eyes.

"Don't let it go to your head. You just happen to be the older one. I asked you first only due to courtesy."

His nose scrunches with a click of his tongue. "At least you respect your elders I guess... But there’s something more to it, isn't there? Are you worried that it might be too soon for it?"

"I'm scared." Pyn says it so quietly, under their breath.

The angel still manages to catch it. He comes closer towards Pyn. He keeps the gap between them. He tilts his head in question.

"I'm scared he'd get angry."

"You're scared that it'd get angry than me being angry?"

"I have more confidence that you'd get angry than I have the confidence that he'd get angry. I know I'd be able to handle you easier. It is very much a surprise to me how calm you are about it right now. I don't know what he would be like if he's angry with me. I don’t think he has been angry with me before. I haven't even thought about that before."

The angel scoffs a laugh at the thought. "As if that oaf can be angry with you. What would it even have to be angry about?"

"If he becomes a true muse, I can't turn that back. Which means, for me, I'd never complete his story. He always seems like he's nonchalant without reason. As if he has too much confidence in me that I could get it done one day and here I am saying, 'It's very likely no'."

It ticks the butler off seeing the way Pyn is getting teary eyed in frustration. He reminds himself he is in a different situation than the snake. The caretaker is much softer towards the gardener than him. His own fault, he admits. He shifts from the door towards the reception desk. He leans against it as he thinks about the soft hearted ouroboros of the gardens. In the weirdest ways, the snake is the opposite to him when it comes to their origins. 

"I do not believe that is what Scales thinks. I do not mean to say that it has given up. It just seems to...not care. It's better that you do talk to it. I cannot say for certain since we are not close but…Scales tends to be a very open book. The way I read it, Scales would be happy to just be by you. I really don't think it cares about its origins at all."

"Are you sure?"

"I know you're the one that created us but you need to stop looking at us like we'd be the first ones to kill you in a Purge situation."

"You would though."

"Yes, I would but not Scales. Trust me on that. Just talk to it."

"Ok... I will, in time."

Pyn removes their hold on Their legs. They let them hang over the edge of the table with a little swing. The angel relaxes as well. They remain quiet like that for an unknown amount of time to either of them.

"Have you thought of a name?" Pyn pipes up.

The angel is suddenly reminded. His mind wanders. There truly are thousands of names in the world. It is a hard decision to think of one that might suit him. How funny would it be to base his name on the word angel itself? Or even take the word for angel and twist just a single letter of it just for the “significance” factor to his lore? It would test the caretaker's patience just a tick. A familiar mischievous smile crawls onto his face.

"Hmmmm, how about Malaikar?"

"Did you just—I am not calling you that."

Pyn scrunches their nose. It only brings a light to the man's eyes.

"You barely call me by my name anyway. How about Laikar for short? Or Laik?"

"Of all the names you could choose..."

"You asked me. That's what I feel like and that's what I like. As if this isn't you choosing my name anyway."

"Don't get meta with me you fuck. Fine, Malaikar it is. When you have time, mind asking your beau to give a name as well? I'd like it if he's a true muse as well. For your happiness and my sanity."

A genuine smile fills Malaikar’s face at the mention of his beloved. "Definitely."

[mlkydrms]

My Warmth is You

⚜ Hoseok x Namjoon ⚜ Coloured Palms AU ⚜ 1057 Words ⚜ Genre: Fluff? ⚜ Prompt: Hoseok x Namjoon ⚜ Notes: Pining, Confessions, No warnings apply. ⚜ A/n: Written for the That Thing You Do bingo hosted by @bangtanwritingbingo​. Had this idea for 5 years but never had the proper plot/motivation to complete it. It still feels incomplete to me but maybe one day I'll figure it out. 

Summary: Hoseok would drown in the blue of Namjoon's palms. It never occurred to him that Namjoon feels the light coming from his white and yellow hands.

[Read on AO3 instead?] 

Hoseok always saw the world in its vibrancy. He sees the soft glow of colours on the palms of people's hands. Rainbows and non rainbows each time he saw them, and he knew he was the only one.

His own hands were a soft white and yellow mix, as if a glow of an angel's halo. He liked it. It made him feel good about himself. Such pretty, soft colours that said that it was him and just him. A quiet beacon for everyone else who needed comfort. A beacon no one could see but it can definitely be felt. 

He sees the colours on the hands of his friends. And he knows how the individual colours change depending on how they feel. He sees the reds, the purples, the shades of black, the shades of white, the browns, and he sees Namjoon. 

Namjoon is blue like the vast ocean. The glow a little ominous and sad. Hoseok would always touch, playing around with the lithe fingers and watch the dark navy shade turn brighter into a gentle turquoise blue. He feels proud that he is the only one that made the colours move. 

His hands were always warm. And Hoseok liked them. He held them anytime he could. They were warm and the heat filled into his own cold, yellow palm. And when their palms touch, it dapples like light on the surface of the sea. Namjoon would flush red if Hoseok drew attention to them holding hands. 

Hoseok knew the colours meant something about the person. He knows the blue of Namjoon is just the chaotic thoughts in the tall man's head that rush around, never stopping. The darker his palms, the more Namjoon was getting lost in himself. Hoseok always takes Namjoon out on a walk before the colour turns too much like black.

He wonders if that was the point of his gift. To help bring a little light to those colours that get too dark. To pull someone out of the abyss, even just a little bit, to live another day. To be a glowing light for someone. To be a lighthouse on Namjoon's rough oceans. Maybe that was why he was yellow. 

'What's the warmest colour you can think of?'

It is a question Seokjin randomly asks while they drink. It livens up the table, everyone listing colours; red, orange, yellow. Hoseok thinks carefully but his mind keeps reaching for a certain person. Namjoon is next to him smiling. He is drinking a beer. 

Hoseok smiles, too, and looks at Namjoon's hand. A pretty blue like the sky above greets his eyes. Namjoon is feeling very happy today.

'Blue. I think blue is very warm.'

He barely even notices the odd looks he gets from his other friends, caught up in the idea that Namjoon is bright today. The conversation picks up again. They are used to Hoseok. He has always been like that with colours. 

'There are things called warm and cool colours. It exists.' Namjoon laughs. 'But I guess everyone has their own opinions.'

Namjoon smiles so sweetly at him. Hoseok almost feels like his heart would burst. His focus turns away from the blue palmed man and onto his untouched drink that has been sitting there all the while. The conversation has turned with the mention of a holiday from Jimin. 

But Hoseok cannot let the question leave his mind. Blue is warm in his eyes but everyone sees something else. Yellow is warm to them. Like the sun, they would say. Hoseok cannot help but say that is true. He cannot help to think it is not, because if yellow was such a warm colour, why are his own hands always so, so cold?

'Hoseok?'

He lifts his head. An open blue palm is shown to him. A comforting ocean. He follows the hand up and sweet eyes stare down at him. Namjoon is there with his dimpled smile.

'Aren't you coming? The others are already leaving.'

Hoseok answers the best he can. His mind had wandered off too far. He grabs hold of the offered hand. Warmth. Glittering light on the water surface right there between their palms. 

Hoseok wonders, as the hand leaves his touch a second later, why Namjoon always stays around him. He questions the other man. 

'Why?' Namjoon repeats. Hoseok sees Namjoon's face flush again. He turns his eyes away, trying to find an answer. He is trying to piece it carefully.

'I, I didn't want to leave you behind. I want to be around you. I like you.'

He focuses on the last three words. 'You like me?'

'You're always so gentle. You're always around for me. I like to be around you. Lend a hand when you want it. I like you.'

Hoseok wants to ask when. All the time he's known Namjoon, nothing had looked different when they were together. Would Hoseok know what blue looked like if it was love? Does he even know what his own yellow actually looked like when all his attention is on his crush on Namjoon? The taller man seems to read his mind. 

'Since you started holding my hand, playing with my fingers. You were so soft, gentle. Since you started reaching out to me, asking me out on walks when you thought I needed it. You always knew when I needed a distraction. Bit by bit, I kept falling for you and your attentiveness. You've just always been on my mind. You're my comfort. I might even say I love you.'

And he sees it. A simple peek of blue when Namjoon rubs his neck in nervousness. The brightest blue Hoseok has seen on the man's palm. Sweet pastel blue that captures Hoseok's heart. He sees a funny red on Namjoon's cheeks. Hoseok has been so focused on the blue that Namjoon is, he had not realised that he could have seen the red in his face.

He looks down at his own hand, bright yellow with cloudy white swirling within it. It rivals the sun above them, covered with white clouds.

He curls his hand into a fist. It feels like he is holding a tiny star in his palm. Warm like the spark in his chest. He takes a deep breath through his smile. 

'I—I love you too.'

[mlkydrms]

Evening Books and Morning Cuddles

⚜ Hidari Shotarou x Philip ⚜ Fluff, It’s just fluff ⚜ 2363 words ⚜ Notes: Just soft boys being soft, cuddling, some flustered Shotarou and insistant Philip, can be read platonic or romantic. ⚜ Author’s Notes: hhhhhhhhello there... So... My first fic back and it’s a kamen rider fic + My first kamen rider fic and it's about these two dorks. Just a fair warning that the fic might be a little, how do you say, messy with regards to povs. I am still trying to get a handle of the characters properly. I hope to write more of them in the future when I get more soft ideas so please be gentle with me. Hope you enjoy it!

Summary:

Philip is a fast reader. Particularly with things he finds interest in. Anything else results in a chore. That does not mean he can't indulge in slowly going through noir style detective novels his partner loves so much with him. And everything that comes after is a bonus that he's calculated.

[Read on AO3 instead]

"Ah, seriously!"

Shotarou leans back into the chair harshly as he messes up the front of his hair. The chair turns slightly at the force.

"Is there anything else to do around here?"

Philip does not even flinch from his position at his usual desk. He is still fiddling with one of the Memory Gadgets that got caught in one of their fights. He uses a free hand to point at the standing table somewhere behind him. 

"There is still that one lost pet case Aki-chan took just this morning."

Shotarou groans. "I don't want to go on a pet hunt in the evening."

"You could go home."

"I'm not quite feeling that either."

Philip finishes up what he is doing and finally turns around. Whatever repairs needed are completed. Shotarou has his fedora placed over his eyes as he leans back. A slight curve rises in Philip's lip. 

He stands up and walks towards the detective. His eyes glance over to the nearby shelf. Nothing interesting there to distract. It is mostly old case files that have been closed for record keeping. 

He looks at the desk. Array of books line one corner of the furniture neatly. There are a few papers strewn on the table under Shotarou's favourite typewriter. It is a little messy to the eyes but as a whole it is organised, just like Shotarou. He spots a solo book placed on the side. The title is not particularly one Philip is familiar with. It is probably part of the new noir book haul the older man purchased a month ago. 

"Hmmm. What about this?"

He picks it up and sits at the cleared area of the desk. He examines the back of the book for a summary. There is nothing but one liner reviews. It gives him nothing. 

Shotarou shifts. The fedora tilts just enough for him to look at what Philip is doing.

"Ah! My book."

The older man scrambles to take the book out of Philip's hand. A quiet smile spreads across his face as he looks at the cover. Philip smiles too. He is glad that the older man has gained a distraction.

Shotarou jumps out of his seat in excitement. He places the book back on the desk and hangs his fedora on one of the small hooks on the loft behind him, ones his late boss used to use. He moves around with joy in his steps.

"I'm gonna read. And Akiko can't stop me cause she left to go home to Terui." He sings to himself. 

Philip walks off and lets Shotarou go through his little preparations. He enters his domain, the garage to look for his blank book. There are still remains of yesterday's look up written on the surface of the white boards. He ought to clean it up for his next stint but decides to do it tomorrow. There are other things that are in the forefront of his mind right now.

He finds the green covered book sitting neatly on his work counter. He grabs it and turns back. He makes sure that there is nothing else that he might be forgetting and leaves.

He finds Shotarou sitting in the bed with his legs straightened up. He had taken off his tie and his vest. They are neatly folded and placed on the coffee table. He looks completely comfortable. The novel is already opened up to a decent chunk for the few minutes he was alone.

The younger one walks up. "Move over. I am reading with you."

"Hah? What do you mean read with me?" Shotarou's face scrunches.

"Well, I have got nothing else to do so I am finding entertainment here."

"But we can't read together. You read too fast."

Philip raises the book in his left hand and knocks the hardcover of it. It should be enough of an insinuation for anyone to understand, and Shotarou does.

"Move over, Shotarou."

"No. Sit somewhere else. I'll let you sit in my chair."

"I do not want to. There is enough space here."

"I'm not moving." Shotarou folds his arms. 

Philip stands by the edge of the bed. He stares at Shotarou who is sitting still. He is not sitting on a chair. Not even Shotarou's chair. He is going to sit with Shotarou on the bed whether the man likes it or not.

"If you insist."

Philip unstraps his boots and takes them off. He gets into bed. The older man shuffles to sit straight against the headboard. 

He crawls between Shotarou's legs. He turns and lays against him. He acts as if it is the most natural thing in the world to do so and opens up his blank book.

"Phi—Philip?"

"You did not want to move so I improvised. This is fine, right?"

"I don't think—"

"You are pretty comfy as a pillow." He mentions off-handedly.

Heat rushes up Shotarou's face. It paints his cheeks a light pink. Philip just makes himself even more comfortable against him. 

"Fine." He relents in a whisper. 

He is not used to this. They are both not used to this. They do not do this often. They tend not to touch, not out of necessity at least. They are not the kind of people to show much physical affection to each other but...it feels nice. It feels especially nice for Shotarou that Philip is the one that initiated it.

It is awkward to read with one hand. Turning the page is a bit of a nuisance having to raise his arms up over Philip's head. Though, Shotarou makes no move to complain about it. 

As they continue their reads, they wordlessly shift along with each other. Their positions fill up the bottom half of the bed as they try to get more comfortable. Philip even turns around and lays on his stomach somewhere between chapters.

The evening turns to night before they realise it. Philip is trying his hardest to keep his pace reading the novel. It is not quite as interesting as most of his research but he trudges through it. The possibility of listening to Shotarou talk about it to him later is veritably a good goal.

There is a sudden shift to Philip's left. The sound of a book closing and hitting the bed is heard. He tilts his head up slowly. Shotarou's head is lolled to the side. His eyes are closed shut and his breathing is even. He had fallen asleep.

He turns his head. Unfortunately, the angle of where he is makes it impossible to read the clock hanging on the pillar. There is no light outside the windows. He is unsure what time it is.

Philips takes a few minutes to make sure that Shotarou is definitely passed out before moving. He gets up as slowly as possible. He does not want to accidentally wake him up. He is lucky that the detective tends to be a heavy sleeper.

He tries to gently shift Shotarou into a better position for his back and neck. He lays the man properly on the bed while manoeuvring himself on what space he can within the furniture. Philip drags the curtains to a close to make it darker for the sleeping man. He returns to his previous position, careful with laying himself atop Shotarou.

Philip changes the topic within his book within seconds. His eyes glide across the pages easier at the new stimulation. Since Shotarou is out like a light, there is no need for him to keep reading the novel till the end. At least not until Shotarou is reading it as well. He would prefer reading the end of such a book along with him.

The light of the morning filters through the windows of the agency. Though, there is not much difference in considering how the lights inside the office have been switched on all night. Neither of them had the time to switch them off.

There is a light scuffle outside in the hallway. Quick and rough steps make their way to the agency door. The entrance swings open. Akiko is on time for her duty as the proud chief of Narumi Detective Agency. 

"Good morning!" Her voice is cheery as always but there is no answer. 

She looks around the room but there is no one to be found. She tilts her head and calls out for the younger detective's name. There is still no response.

She enters the garage and it is just as empty as the office is. She turns back and walks further in. She places some bags of food on the standing table. 

"That's strange. Philip is usually here. Ah, maybe he's still sleeping."

Sure enough, the curtains by the guest bed are drawn close. Philip's brown boots are placed neatly by the area. She does not seem to notice the other pair of black shoes peeking out from under the curtains. She approaches quietly. She reaches out and pulls open one side of the curtains. 

A small gasp fills her lungs as she sees the scene in front of her. Philip is sleeping soundly with his blank book resting open in his right hand but that is not what is shocking. Philip is asleep on his stomach on top of Shotarou, cheek pressed against the half-boiled detective's chest. Shotarou is also asleep, relaxed as can be, with a hand resting gently on Philip's back. 

"Eh? I didn't hear anything about this!" The words fall out of the chief's mouth before she can even stop herself. 

A goofy little grin fills Akiko's face as an idea fills her head. She tries to find the little memory gadget to take some pictures of the occasion. In the ruckus, Shotarou starts to stir awake. He squints against the light. Akiko is going through Philip's desk haphazardly.

His brows furrow in annoyance of being woken up but Akiko being loud is a normal occurrence. He tilts his head down, noticing familiar red and green binder clips in dark black hair. It is Philip, and he is sleeping on top of him.

He hears the sounds of Bat Shot's snapping somewhere in his periphery as he remembers the last moments of the previous night. They were reading. Shotarou was reading but then the words started to blur and his eyelids got heavy. When was the point in the night where Shotarou fell asleep just like that with his partner in his arms?

"Oi, Akiko. Stop taking pictures. That's embarrassing."

Shotarou tries to shield his face from the camera and wave Akiko off with his one free arm that isn't pinned under Philip's. He tries to do it as gently as possible. He hopes the movement does not wake Philip up. 

Akiko does not let up. She keeps taking pictures in whatever angle she can find. 

"I've just never seen you both together like this. It's cute!"

"Akiko, stop it—"

Philip suddenly shifts. He presses his arm down on Shotarou's chest as he lifts up. An uncharacteristic scowl is on his face. Shotarou freezes with widened eyes. Akiko pauses. 

"Aki-chan. I am still very tired and would like to continue sleeping. We went to bed quite late last night so if you could please not disturb us for a few more hours, I would be grateful."

He closes his open book that is next to Shotarou's shoulder. He reaches out to the drawn open curtain. He is ready to shut out the world again.

"Huh? I think I should just get up if you want to sleep more Philip. I'm fine."

The brunet moves to escape from the bed but Philip does not agree. The younger presses more weight into his forearm. Shotarou is effectively pinned back down, shoulders to the mattress. He is at a disadvantage in this position. He does not think he can try again, not without throwing Philip off the bed as well. 

"No. Sit still. You need the sleep too. Now if you would excuse us, Aki-chan."

"No, of course. Sleep well." She smiles with a little wave of her hand. 

Philip pulls the curtains back to close them both in shadow once again. He can hear their boss giggle to herself as she walks away from the bed. There is quiet rustling of plastic behind the cloth wall. (At least as quiet as plastic can be.) 

He goes back to his previous position. He leans his head on Shotarou's chest and closes his eyes. He listens to the calculated breathing of his partner. Shotarou is being as stiff as he possibly can.

What does he do? He is not used to this kind of contact. Should he move? Can he move? Philip wants to sleep. He might get even more annoyed if he tries. Shotarou would be lying if he didn't want to snooze a little more. Is he allowed to? He is, isn't he? Akiko left them to take a nap without fuss. What time did they end up going to bed anyways? 

"Shut up and sleep, Shotarou." Philip says quietly. 

With his eyes closed, Philip moves his hand down Shotarou's arm. He reaches for the man's hand and intertwines their fingers. He squeezes gently.

"You are thinking too much. Just rest, and that is coming from me."

Shotarou slowly lets out the breath he had been holding. Philip is right. He should not think too much about it. There is nothing wrong with this.

He returns the squeeze and gently lays his free arm over Philip's back. He closes his eyes. Shotarou falls into the comfort of the moment. He goes back to sleep with soft warmth and a weighted blanket in the form of his partner.

They sleep, into the late morning, in each other's arms. Neither of them are quite sure if something like this would happen again in the future. Philip is not particularly physically affectionate but being as stubborn as he can be, there is no telling where they might end up next time he fixates on being close to Shotarou. And with a soft heart, Shotarou would only ever give in to something so inane.