#so i reached out and found that she does conduct a group that's not specific to college students!

[practically-an-x-man]

might have found a choir group to sing in :D

[kindness-ricochets]

I’ve been seeing a lot of thoughts and hc of autistic wylan lately and you seem to also be a fan of the concept. May I ask why? Exactly? I could definitely kinda see it but wanna hear you thoughts you’re always so eloquent

Hey there anon! Sorry for the delay—I’m guessing you already found an answer to this elsewhere while I was off Tumblr for a bit, but just in case, here are my thoughts. This will be heavily personal, but… well, you can’t very well ask an autistic person about autism and expect neutrality!

Autism is different for everyone and can be difficult to pin down, so while Wylan is arguably autistic, he misses several beats that for me would have made him definitively and undeniably autistic. For example, when the bells start to ring, triggering black protocol—I work in a place with a lot of bells and am frequently caught too close to one and normally press my hands over my ears until it’s over because that sound is like shrapnel raking across my insides. All of them. Not just the ear and brain parts. Wylan doesn’t have that sort of visceral reaction, but that may just mean he doesn’t have the same sensitivities that I do, or to the same level. He also never, that I recall, eats meat—as weird as that might sound, eating meat is incredibly complicated with heightened sensitivities to taste and texture. I’m not sure how old I was when I realized it was strange to get up from the table to spit out my food because it viscerally repulsed me. So it might be that Wylan is autistic and has different experiences than I do. Those are things I would include in a story as major indicators of a character being autistic. This might also mean that his father’s way of raising him taught him to hide unusual reactions and stimming behaviors. It’s not that much of a reach to assume a man who tried to abuse the dyslexia out of his son would take the same approach to autism. (More on autism and abuse later.)

So while I’m going to lay out why I read Wylan as autistic, that’s why I think it’s valid to read him as not being autistic as well. Both are valid.

A final caveat, I am well overdue for a reread of the books, so I likely left something out or could have found better examples. Take this as a few of my reasons for a personal headcanon. Anyone who feels differently, that's fine! We can each read things our own way :)

1 - Hyperfixation: The way Wylan loves music

Most of the Crows’ backgrounds color how they see the world: Kaz’s shrewdness, Matthias’s tactical thinking and superstition, Inej’s faith and Suli wisdom, etc. That’s a sign of good character writing. But very little of Wylan’s upbringing seems to have influenced how he sees the world. It comes closest when he thinks about how his father would scorn his new friends, but we never see that scorn from Wylan.

The way a hyperfixation feels, it’s like you’ve always lived in a close parallel world, never fully been a part of the other one where it seems like everyone else lives, but suddenly there’s this bright shining piece of your soul laced through the other world. It lets you connect, it lets you exist in their realm, and you can’t help but filter everything new through that lens because it’s the brightest, most wonderful thing. (I had been between hyperfixations for a while when I started a new job; six months into that work, I read Crooked Kingdom. One of my coworkers thought I had fallen in love, it was that marked a difference.)

So, combining these: Wylan never really acts like he was part of his father’s world, and indeed is in some ways separate from the other Crows, but he parses everything through music, his hyperfixation. He sets words to music to remember them, like he does with the contract. Even his own anxiety is made sense of through music, when in his first narrated chapter, he sets it to music: what am I doing here what am I doing here…. When he’s overwhelmed, his thoughts are “a jangle of misplayed chords”. The Crows have backgrounds that influence how they react to the world, but Wylan’s hyperfixation is his means of experiencing and understanding the world.

2 - Literal thinking: Wylan responds to exact words

In this post, I went into detail on the line where Wylan suggested waking up men to kill them. Wylan is generally unsupportive of killing people—Oomen, Smeet’s clerk, his father… he advocates not-murder in each of these situations. Accepting his aversion to murder, his suggestion to wake men up and kill them seems like a genuine reaction to Jesper saying he doesn’t want to kill unconscious men. Wylan takes things literally.

This happens the most with Jesper, probably because Jesper talks to Wylan the most. Nina and Matthias don’t really register him past how he might be useful, Inej is usually quite direct, and Kaz is very deliberate when he speaks with Wylan. This really interests me because Kaz tends to vary his speech more than the others do, he adapts more to being around other people. He jokes a little with Jesper, spars with Nina, speaks more openly and more sharply with Inej, and he’s precise with Wylan. Kaz may not know what autism is, but he recognizes what’s effective with Wylan.

Another example is when Wylan is sketching the Ice Court plans and Jesper says it looks like a cake. There are plenty of valid responses here: pointing out that concentric circles look like lots of things, that it’s just a sketch, telling Jesper to stop looking over his shoulder. Instead, Wylan says that the Ice Court is sort of like a cake. That… doesn’t sound like something Wylan would normally say. He’s not addressing the whole situation, he’s addressing the specific words Jesper said.

One of the most heartbreaking examples of this (to me, anyway) is with Marya. Wylan does the same thing with his mother, when she asks if he’s there for her money and says she hasn’t got any, and his response is, “I don’t either.” We understand as readers that what Marya is communicating here is that she is so accustomed to being utterly ignored unless she is being used, and if she told Wylan that no one visited but to take advantage and she assumed he was here for the same reason, he would say it wasn’t the case. But he just responds to the immediate statement.

There are a lot of examples of this.

3 — 0% perception, 100% creativity

Wylan can identify things that don’t make sense or that he doesn’t understand, but at the beginning of the series he can’t make leaps, only ask questions. On the Ferolind, he wonders about the source of water at the Ice Court; though Kaz doesn’t say as much, he was clearly wondering, too, because he eventually figured out the underground river. There’s an interesting parallel here where, in the beginning of Crooked Kingdom, Wylan asks a question about how they’ll break into Smeet’s and Kaz tells him to use his eyes instead of running his mouth—at which point Wylan is able to figure it out. I don’t think this is because he never tried before, though, but because no one ever bothered to teach him. Kaz can be harsh but he gives harsh corrections rather than harsh rejections and Wylan learns from him.

It’s hard to understand the world for people with autism. The world is designed and run by and for people whose minds are fundamentally different from ours, whose thoughts and experiences are unlike ours. Imagine trying to learn English or Spanish or Mandarin or any other spoken language if your first language was olfactory. That’s sort of what it’s like for someone with autism to just get dropped into the world and expected to figure this out.

This can be attributed to Wylan’s upbringing, but I disagree with that because none of the others were brought up in the Barrel, either, and Wylan doesn’t understand trade or politics with any special skill. Kaz wasn’t born in the Barrel, but he managed to go from “stealing is wrong” to “wrong isn’t my concern” real quick; Colm Fahey didn’t raise his son on gambling and firefights; the Ghafas never expected their daughter to be away from the family. Only Nina has relevant training—and even that’s precious little, she left school way too early. The others figured it out; Wylan needed a bit more help. He also seems surprised by the way his father conducts business. Wylan takes things on face value—like the time he’s surprised someone would do something, simply because it’s unlawful. This is something he expresses to a group of gangsters. He’s never been taught the way of any world and these things are not intuitive to him.

But Wylan isn’t stupid.

He doesn’t know how to understand the world, but he does understand how things go together. Given a pointy diamond, a handle, and a screw, he cut through Grisha glass. He carries flashbangs and magic napalm, he recreates military hardware—Wylan understands how to make things interact for a specific result. But to me the most telling thing isn’t just that he puts together chemical pieces, it’s that he figured out Jesper controlled bullets. He saw the pieces and put them together.

Wylan can understand when things don’t make sense, but he can’t make sense of them—yet when he understands things at their basic level, he understands them without preconception, for what they are. This is a very autistic way of thinking about things, it goes back to the literalism. He can’t make the leaps of logic other people can, but he also doesn’t make the assumptions they do—“I’ve never heard of a bullet Grisha, so that’s not a thing” vs “Well Jesper’s an almost impossibly good shot and he controls metal and bullets are metal, so why not?”

4 - Broken brain/body connection

Wylan’s great at chemistry and drawing and playing flute or piano—but he’s something of a disaster other times. This is in particular contrast to the other characters, all of whom are physically adept. Meanwhile it’s a challenge for Wylan to climb a rope ladder and he spends a full paragraph trying to figure out what to do with his hands. It’s easy to say, well, he’s used to a sedentary lifestyle, but at this point he’s not. He’s worked in the tannery for months. He’s just physically awkward.

I have less to say on this point only because it’s about something I don’t fully understand myself. I don’t really understand what it would be like to have a body that just… does things? Like normal stuff? Without tics and stims. No idea. Only that Wylan’s discomfort in and seeming lack of mastery of his own body feels very relatable to me.

5 - Abuse

One of the most familiar things about Wylan is how he has been so thoroughly abused and broken down that he’s afraid to do or say much of anything. Again, this is a place his background can be an obscuring factor. Of course Wylan didn’t think to blow up the walls when the first met the parem-juiced jurda and got trapped, he’s a spoiled rich kid! Except, he also startled when Jesper said his name later. Wylan didn’t hesitate because he was spoiled, he hesitated because he had no confidence.

He also thinks Kaz would laugh at him for playing music at his mother’s grave. Now, personally, I can’t see Kaz laughing at Wylan—being indifferent, thinking it’s pointless sentimentality, shaking his head, maybe commenting sharply that they need to go if they don’t have the time. But not laughing. Kaz is a snarky, sharp-edged jerk sometimes, but he doesn’t go out of his way to criticize, he just lets people know when they inconvenience him.

Wylan has been trained to identify attention as negative by an overbearing abusive father who literally saw him as less favorable than a demon. Now, that may have been hyperbole, but Jan criticized everything he could about Wylan—art, music, emotion—and made clear that he was worthless and competent to nothing. (Jan Van Eck can suck a rotten donkey dick but that’s neither here nor there.)

A lot of people with autism experience levels of bullying that have similar impacts. Or as the kids these days are calling it: we go to school. We go to school where we are weird. Where we look weird and move weird and talk about weird things and there’s a whole little bevy of asswipes to makes sure we know it. I got teased more for playing Pokemon and sitting alone reading than the kid who pissed himself onstage at assembly. (This was before Pokemon was cool. I’m old.) And that is not unusual for autistic kids. It’s also not unusual for this to be compounded by relatives or even parents who may be trying to help but don’t understand and can make things even harder.

So we can’t read social cues and we’re taught at a vicious age that everything that comes naturally to us is wrong. Imagine trying to interact in society with that background. There is no guide and most advice from neurotypical people isn’t actually what they mean. It breaks you down.

Wylan’s anxiety isn’t definitive of autism, but isn’t something that was incredibly familiar as someone whose neurodivergent experiences created a strong level of anxiety.

6 — High Compassion, Low Social Competence

Wylan isn’t very good at making friends. In fact, none of the Crows likes him much in the beginning, and only some of them soften toward him by the end. (Matthias and Nina come to respect his skills as a chemist but neither seems to particularly like him.) But you can see throughout the books that Wylan wants to connect with them and be one of them, he just… isn’t. He’s off-beat. He’s weird. He asks questions and mimics behaviors (trying to be cool and tough like Jesper, saying “mission” like Matthias does, imitating Kaz’s scheming face) but he doesn’t quite get how to adapt.

But he still cares about people. Not just them. Everyone. He cares about the people they leave in the ditch outside the prison wagon, he cares about Hanna Smeet, he cares about Alys. He cares about the people who’ll take a hit from Kaz’s sugar caper.

Wylan’s awkward social skills have undeniable big autism energy. I posit his compassion does as well. This is simply who Wylan is, and that means being someone who cares about everyone. I have nothing to back up that this is related to autism. I can say that it’s like me. (Not to brag.) I can’t turn off the part of my brain that says everyone matters. Individuals can opt out of that compassion, but they have it by default. There’s a certain agony in feeling a pull toward and love for just about everyone and yet an inability to develop meaningful connections with them, and that keen loneliness… it just burns.

Again, it’s not definitive of autism, but it’s very similar to an autistic experience.

I said in the beginning that I didn’t think Wylan certainly had autism and I stand by that, but he is a powerfully honest reflection of many people who do. So he can be understood to have autism, and that’s part of the reason some people have that headcanon.

[pathfinderslog]

Day #10

Tempest. Pathfinder's quarters. On the way to Eos.

🎶 Whatever it Takes - Imagine Dragons

As we can't use mass relays for the shifts between a system to another, like we'd have done in the Milky Way, in the Andromeda Galaxy we have to rely only on ours spaceships engines. Travel times are getting longer, but fortunately the Tempest is the fastest and most agile ship of the Initiative, so we are able to reach Habitat 1 in less than a week. We probably would have been able to get there sooner if Kallo hadn't had to make numerous evasive maneuvers to escape the Scourge's offshoots along the way.

In about 26 hours we will reach the Pytheas system and by then it shouldn't take long to reach the planet.

In these days I have had the opportunity to explore the ship from stern to bow and every corner has managed to enchant me. There is really everything you need to analyze and study all that Andromeda will offer us: flora, fauna, artifacts, new technologies! I even have a private cabin! (I've already said this, right?)

I also got to know the crew. If we need to work together for the good of us all we must do it well, as a team, and the best way to do this is to get to know each other.

First of all I need to know the on board crew: the pilot, the mechanic, the scientist, the doctor. They are essential support figures, without which it would not be possible to complete any mission. They keep the Tempest ready for the action and 100% efficient and take care of analyzing the samples we bring on board, they maintain active communications with the Nexus and they take care of coordinating the informations between my team and those of the leaders of the Initiative.

Gil tried to explain to me in the most elementary words possible how the engine works, which reproduces the ODSY of the arks on a smaller scale. Something related to the static energy accumulated while traveling and used to recharge the ship itself. I do not know. He tried hard, but I've never been good with technicalities. I prefer practice to theory.

Kallo, on the other hand, told me some curious anecdotes about his creation. He was part of the team in charge of designing and building the Tempest in the Milky Way and he left with her aboard the Nexus to follow her footsteps, while the rest of the group stayed behind. In a certain way it's like if he is a living legacy of the past. Couldn't have nothing better, after all, he was the testing pilot, he practiced with her a lot so he knows how she works.

The most curious thing, which both confirmed to me, is that the Tempest's cloacking system is based from the technical specifications of the Normandy SR-1's IES stealth system, but I know for sure that those projects are covered by military secrecy, so I don't understand how the Initiative could get their hands on them. Maybe my father has something to do with it? Maybe some of his old contacts in the N7? What else are you hiding from me, old man? AH! Damn! I wish I had you here now so I can choke you with my hands!

I still hold a grudge against my father for what he did to me.

Don't get me wrong, I am grateful to him for saving my life, but I also wish he hadn't burdened me with this HUGE responsibility. Fortunately, SAM has shown himself to be an excellent support several times, often also emotional, in certain ways, while not being able to show any emotion. Even if he's very sophisticated, he's still an AI, but sharing my father's body and mind for years has allowed him to share with me thoughts able to clarify many of my doubts about him and the relationship he had with us: me, Scott and even mum.

The more time passes, the more I feel I can do it!

This sense of oppression is gradually fading, and I must also thank the rest of my team for this.

Lexi now demands that I have a psychoanalysis session every day, arguing that it's essential to deal with mourn, and I, even if reluctantly, let her do it, because I am sure that my tangled mind is an interesting subject of study for her.

With Suvi we had some interesting scientific discussions, she showed me the results of the researches conducted so far by the Nexus and she passed me all the data of what we know so far about the Scourge. She is ... strange ... I thought I was strange, but she manages to be extremely intelligent and at the same time tremendously naive. She is convinced that behind the creation of the cosmos there is the hand of a god. Well, who am I to contradict her? Everyone is free to believe in what they want, as long as it doesn't interfere with their work.

Liam and Cora are helping me with the reports to send to the Nexus and together we analyze strategies and tactics to use to better prepare ourselves for what we have to face on Eos. Liam's experience with the Crisis Unit is proving particularly useful in this context of uncertainty, where anything that can go wrong surely will. And Cora, well, I understand why dad chose her as his second-in-command: she was part of a team of Asari Commando, Thessia's military and biotic combat excellence, backed by centuries of tactics and experience.

And then there is Vetra.

To have a smuggler's past she is very honest and crystal clear. I enjoy spending time with her. She is a tough girl who grew up alone, away from Palaven and the rest of the turian hierarchy (and I don't know how bad that can be), with a younger sister to raise, Sid. She told me what happened to the Nexus in the months before the arrival of the Hyperion: the clash with the Scourge, the chaos, the mutiny, the expulsion of the exiles, the failure of the first outposts. But she also told me amusing anecdotes, such as when she began retrieving special components for Kesh in the Milky Way - once, twice, three, four times - until she found out about the existence of the Andromeda Initiative and joined her in this undertaking, hoping for a better future - like many of us.

Sometimes, if I need to let off steam, I go to see her down in the hangar and she is willing to listen to me and my problems. On the contrary, she does not really like talking about herself, I have understood this by now, but I know how to be very patient, as well as very curious, and I am sure that sooner or later she too will confide in me. For the moment, I'm just happy to gossip with her about Addison's and Tann's.

[pastelsandpining]

My Only Wish (Naughty or Nice)

The fifth prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts​

Prompt List

Cover Art: coming soon!

Words: 2087

Summary: Zelda reads about a foreign holiday called Christmas and decides to bring to life one of the traditions for the other Champions. She’ll need a red suit and a bag of gifts, but luckily she knows just the person to pull off the holly, jolly Santa Claus.

BotW Pre-Calamity Zelink, not AoC related!

Zelink-mas 2020  l  Masterlist

Link was beginning to wonder if the pressure was getting to the princess. She was always pushing forwards in the face of adversity, but it wasn’t her frustration and sadness that made him believe she’d finally cracked. 

It was when they took up residence in her study and she whirled on him with a book in her hands about goddesses only knew what.

“I’ve conducted some research,” she began, which was not new to him but filled him with a sense of playful dread anyway, “regarding Hylia’s Day and other holidays we celebrate here in Hyrule. We know that culture and religion are the basis of all holidays, and the difference in what is celebrated and how stems from those traditions. I was curious about the world outside of Hyrule. I thought perhaps I could read something about their beliefs and traditions that could help me awaken my power, but I found a celebration that’s incredibly similar to ours.”

She dropped the book on her desk and cracked it open, beckoning for him to join her. He stepped over, standing close enough so that when he leaned forwards to join her over the pages of the book, he could smell the flowery scent of her hair. 

He couldn’t read anything on the page. Not when his attention was taken up entirely by her. So he listened to her speak again, following her fingers dancing along the page.

“A religion referred to as Christianity celebrates something called Christmas. For worshipers of the faith, this day is celebrated as the birth of their savior. But the holiday became something widely celebrated by people not of that faith. It became a day of giving gifts and spending time with family. People decorate with trees and lights and hold grand parties. And just like how Hylia brings joy and peace to families on Hylia’s Eve, they too have a figure that travels to every corner of the world, leaving gifts for the children! Multiple sources have claimed that this figure keeps a list sorting the children into categories—meaning whether or not they’ve been naughty in the past year, or nice. Naughty children are given coal, which is quite funny really. He goes by quite a bit of names, too. Father Christmas, Santa Claus, Kris Kringle, Saint Nicholas—but they’re essentially talking about the same figure.”

“There’s a lot of similarities,” Link agreed, glancing in her direction. 

“I know what you’re thinking. What does any of this have to do with the sealing power?” Her cheeks flushed, the pink tint reaching to the tips of her ears. “Well, ah… it doesn’t. But Hylia’s Day is coming up and… and everyone’s been so down and patience is wearing thin and I thought perhaps we could do something to cheer everyone up.”

He wasn’t sure what sort of unseen force compelled him to obey the princess. Yet he couldn’t even bring himself to think that the scheme she’d come up with was absurd. He’d follow her to the ends of Hyrule should she ask him to. 

It was why he wasn’t exactly surprised to find himself accompanying Zelda and a holly, jolly Daruk across Hyrule. Though he couldn’t believe the princess had actually crafted the entirety of Father Christmas’s red outfit.

“This Sandy Claws really doesn’t know fashion,” the Goron said, adjusting the hat upon his head. “The less restrictive the clothing, the better for movement.”

“You play the part very well,” Zelda assured, patting the towering boulder on the arm. “Besides, I read that he’s quite the eater. Children leave out cookies and milk for him, so perhaps you’ll get lucky tonight.”

“If the cookies are prime, crunchy rock, then I can hardly resist. Right, brother?”

Daruk slapped him on his back, sending Link tumbling forwards. Zelda’s arms caught him, and he was quick to regain his balance with the feeling that the Goron did that on purpose.

“Besides, we’re really only visiting the other Champions. I wish we could do more, but we’re lacking the magical sleigh that can travel at the speed of light,” Zelda spoke again, tapping away at the Sheikah Slate. 

“Santa leaving Santa a gift, huh?”

“Oh, Link already took care of that. You’re not allowed to open it until the morning.”

Daruk turned to look at him, surprised. Link only shrugged with a small, only slightly smug smile.

“I’m sneaky,” he said. The Goron laughed and Link took a step closer to Zelda to prevent being slapped on the back and sent tumbling off of Death Mountain.

“So what did you deem me?” Daruk asked, his hands resting on his hips to Link’s utter relief.

“Nice, of course,” Zelda replied with a pat to his arm. “I can’t think of anyone who might be classified as naughty.”

Link could think of one.

But he didn’t voice his opinion and instead shrugged in agreement, and the three of them were off to Zora’s Domain. He had to admit wearing the green of the mythical Santa’s Elves was an experience—he felt a sort of respect for the color. But it was nothing compared to how Zelda looked in her costume. She’d really gone all out for this, with a green little hat and all. It was cute, and admirable really, that she was willing to go so far to spread happiness. 

Happiness they desperately needed right now, with the Calamity looming ever above their heads and constricting them like a snake.

Anyway.

He supposed it would’ve been hard for anyone not to react upon seeing three oddly dressed individuals, Zora guardsmen included. But all the Princess of Hyrule had to do was smile and they let it go without question.

“What’s your ruling on Mipha, Father Christmas?” Zelda asked, lifting the Sheikah Slate.

“Nice,” Daruk decided, rather unsurprisingly. But Link nodded in agreement.

“Sidon too. Can’t leave something for Mipha and not her little brother,” he pointed out.

“I’m hurt you think I hadn’t considered that,” replied Zelda with a satisfied smile. “Alright, each package is specifically wrapped. Mipha gets the red box with the blue bow, and Sidon is the blue box with the red bow.”

Daruk swung the red sack from his shoulder and rummaged through it.

“You might have to do this one, tiny princess. Not sure how the big guy does it without waking anyone.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re more than capable! We’ll be right there with you,” Zelda encouraged, pulling something from the Sheikah Slate. “But if you feel you need it, I made an elixir that increases stealth.”

“What would we do without you?” 

The trip into Zora’s domain was relatively short after that. Zelda slipped into Mipha’s room to deliver the gift while Daruk and Link took care of Sidon, and she was pleased to know it’d been successful. Then, they were on their way to Gerudo for the next Champion. 

“Urbosa was incredibly hard to gift,” the princess said, thinking aloud. But Link was listening anyway, glancing over to her incase she decided to continue. 

“What did you end up getting her?” Daruk asked as he paused to rummage through the sack of presents. 

“Something of my mother’s,” Zelda replied simply, eyeing the small, wrapped box. “I think she would treasure it.”

A tiny smile graced her lips and Link felt his fingers twitch with the urge to take her hand. But she didn’t look sad. If anything, she looked comforted.

“You should deliver this one, Princess. I mean, Santa or not, Link and I can’t get into town,” Daruk pointed out. 

“I’ll be quick,” she promised before disappearing behind the walls of Gerudo Town. And while he knew she was safe there, he always felt an anxiety he couldn’t place.

“She’s real spirited,” said Daruk, nearly knocking Link over with his nudge. “It’s mighty kind of her to want to do this for us.”

“She wants to spread happiness,” he replied with a small shrug. 

“And is it working?” the Goron asked. Link didn’t answer, but he made a point to not look at Daruk and instead kept his gaze on the arching entrance to the town. A few minutes later, Zelda came back out and the group made their way to Hebra.

“Revali,” Zelda spoke, tapping at the slate. “What’s your ruling?”

“Naughty,” Link replied, without missing a beat. The Princess stared at him for a moment, then pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle her laughter. 

“I don’t want to agree, but..” Daruk said, scratching his beard, “he did call me an ‘oversized pebble’.”

“Revali’s just..” 

“Mean,” Link input, cutting Zelda off without really intending to.

“I was going to say young.”

“Well, so are you and the little guy here!” Daruk argued.

“Revali is a strong personality, and the Rito are a proud people,” Zelda stated, crossing her arms over her chest. “It would be rather rude to gift everyone but him.”

“I thought Santa’s whole thing was rewarding the good and punishing the bad,” said Daruk.

“Yes, but Revali isn’t bad, per say. Besides, we didn’t bring any coal.”

“I live on a volcano.”

“..Daruk.. tell me you did not pack coal.”

“That would be a lie, tiny princess.”

It was Link’s turn to fight back a laugh this time, biting the inside of his cheeks to keep it contained.

“Well, I can’t exactly stop you. But be sure to leave the real present too!”

But Daruk had disappeared into Rito Village, leaving the elf-dressed duo behind.

“I still think Revali would be on the naughty list,” Link said with a shrug. Zelda gave him a playful shove.

“Be nice,” she reprimanded, shaking her head.

“Do you think it’s possible for Revali to be nice?”

“I— I refuse to speak ill about any of my Champions,” but she was smiling through her words and that was enough of an agreement for Link. “I do hope Daruk hurries. I’m not sure how long the stealth elixir will last.”

“I’m sure that would make for an interesting sight to wake up to.”

To that, she laughed. Maybe the best part of the night was getting to spend time with her outside of Calamity related business. It almost felt like they were friends.

And then Daruk was back, and the group got ready to part ways. 

“Thank you, Daruk. It was fun,” Zelda spoke, setting a hand on his arm.

“The fun’s not done just yet, tiny princess. I’ve got two more on the nice list to gift.” The Goron pulled two more wrapped gifts from his bag, handed one to each of them, then set off for Death Mountain with a wink.

Link looked at the gift in his hands, something a little heavy with a beautiful wrapping job that could only have been done by nimble fingers. He glanced up at Zelda, who seemed just as surprised. 

Well, it seemed he wasn’t the only one who snuck something into the bag.

“Um,” she spoke, fiddling with her unopened gift. “I just.. it’s nothing big, but I.. I thought you’d enjoy it and you’re a Champion as well..”

Oh, it was a cue. Link nodded once, then carefully unwrapped the rectangular object. What remained in his hands was a book, and a fairly thick one at that.

“I had to beg every chef I know to get the recipes,” Zelda said again, taking a slight step forward. “It contains food from Faron to Goron City, as much as I could find. I also threw in some older recipes I found in cookbooks in the library, but I’m not sure how good any of them are.”

“I.. thank you,” Link replied, because there was really nothing he could say. He looked up at Zelda and offered a small smile, even if it wouldn’t be enough. 

She ducked her head and started to open her own gift. As soon as the treat was revealed, he found it was his turn to nervously explain.

“I heard it’s your favorite. I, uh, scribbled down a recipe I found, so if it’s not good..”

But she was smiling at him, and his words died on his tongue.

“My mother used to make a fruitcake every Hylia’s Day,” she said, and before he could give an apology or say anything else, she was hugging him. “Thank you.”

When Link returned to his quarters for the rest of the night away, he fell asleep with one thought in his head.

One day, he would love to cook every recipe in that book for the Princess.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

TWD Holiday Special Clues

Hey Everyone! I watched the holiday special last night. I know not everyone can. At least not yet. (Not sure if they’ll air it eventually.) So I’ll report what jumped out at me from it.

The first thing is that I definitely noticed a “return vibe” running through it. But first thing’s first.

They mentioned “reuniting the Greene sisters” at least twice. Maybe three times. Chris said it in the intro. I’m paraphrasing but something like “Emily Kinney and Lauren Cohan are here. We’re gonna reunite the Greene sisters!” And then he repeated that again during the episode. So yeah. Side-eying that.

Then Emily sang her song, Up on the Housetop, pretty early. I wasn’t sure about this at first, but it did occur to me that they chose to have her sing a song about Santa returning stealthily in the night. And yes, I know that’s pretty weak on its own. I mean, it’s a Christmas special. Any song they sing is either going to be about Santa or the Christ child. But even so. It wasn’t Jingle Bells or anything more generic. They picked the song about Santa returning stealthily (he does that every year, after all) when and where no one was looking for him to be. I’ll talk about this more at the end.

(Just recorded this oon my phone, so not the best quality. ;D) 

 There were a lot of small things that MIGHT be clues, but also might not be. Things that we COULD read into but we really might be reaching. Things the actor (such as Josh McDermitt) said while telling stories about childhood Christmases, for example. I’ll skip those, for the most part, as they aren’t all that compelling on their own.

So then there were two 10-season things they did. They had the actors who play Ezekiel, Yumiko, Jerry, and Lydia sing a rendition of The Twelve Days of Christmas, except it was the 10 seasons of TWD. It was fun, and I want to read into some of the lines, but it’s hard to read into all of them. They basically picked one thing from each season, and they were all pretty random. They skipped over Beth entirely, and I’ll admit that IS kind of suspicious (I’ll tell you why in a minute) but at the same time they skipped over a LOT of important things, so I’m not sure we can call it a pattern.

So, for example, the season 2 line was “Hershel at his Farm.” That makes total sense because it encapsulates the gist of S2. So, if they’d stayed with that theme, you ‘d think s3’s line would have been about the prison or the Governor or Woodbury, right? They went with “baby Judith’s birth.” And obviously that was a big deal but it doesn’t exactly bring across everything that happened in S3, you know? So, kind of random. For S4, you’d think they would talk about the downfall of the prison, but they went with “look at the flowers.” 

So, they didn’t mention Beth or Grady at all for S5, and I find that suspicious bc Coda was definitely the biggest thing that happened in S5 with the biggest fan reaction. But again, they weren’t exactly breaking pattern here. For S5, they went with “Morgan Jones returns.” S6 was “Scary Saviors arriving” or something along those lines. (Understand I’m paraphrasing most of these because I didn’t write down exact words.) S7 was “Abe and Glenn in heaven.” S8 was Carl getting bitten. Sufficiently a big deal, of course, but there was also that burning Phoenix. Must not have been very memorable, lol. S9 was “Rick in a copter” and S10 was “Negan killing Alpha.” I think.

Not until they’d sung several more verses did the part about Morgan returning start to jump out at me. I mean, in terms of S5, that literally happens the last two minutes of the season. And yes, it was a big deal to the fandom, but it hardly represents all of S5, right? But using him as the “5th day of Christmas” part of the song automatically puts emphasis on it. If you think of the song, it slows down considerably and emphasizes “5 golden rings.” And for this it was “Morgan Jones return.” So it felt like there was a heavy emphasis on that.

So, an emphasis on the return of a character who hadn’t been on in a while before that. And of course there are all those DC al Coda parallels between Beth and Morgan. Just saying. Later in the special, they do another “return thing.”

Then they did an “In Memoriam” that covered 10 seasons of walker kills. This one was much more suspicious in a TD way to me. Like the song, they basically chose one iconic, epic walker kill to represent each season. And there are a lot more of these I think we can read into as Beth symbols. So, for S1, it was Teddy Bear Girl. For S2, Well walker. (Water.) For S3, that walker they killed when cleaning out the prison yard whose face slides off. The thing about this walker is that it’s wearing black riot gear. A lot like what the CRM soldiers wear. For S4, it was the Big Spot walker that falls through the roof. That one made me happy. For S5, that walker Daryl killed at Terminus with the crow bar. You know, the famous one whose face he caved in against the brick wall? 

For s6, it was the sewer walkers Maggie and Aaron ran into under Alexandria. Definitely side-eyeing that. For s7, they showed Winslow. And what was great about that is that it specifically showed the part where one of Winslow’s spikes when through Rick’s hands. (Stigmata, making him a Christ figure.) For S8, it was where Daryl was riding around on his bike shoot boxes with his gun that then blew up. He blew up one of the walkers that way. For 9, it was the walker that came up out of the river while Daryl was fishing (long hair after Rick left). And for S10 it was the walker horde hitting the electric fence before the Hilltop battle.

So yeah. We can definitely read into some of those as Beth parallels.

The end of the special had some weirdnesses in it, and my favorite TD reference.

First, Chris asked everyone to say what their character would bring to a holiday party. Lauren said Maggie would bring the turkey. Kaylee said Judith would bring the games. But we didn’t hear Emily or IRonE’s answers. I just thought it was weird because it cut very abruptly and we didn’t get to hear what their characters would have brought. I mean, it’s obvious they edit these, because they often jump suddenly to the next question and you don’t hear the segue. I don’t judge them for editing. They have to do this in a certain time frame, and there can lots of white noise when conducting zoom calls. But still, I have to wonder what, exactly, they’re cutting out.

So then Chris asks, again, as though he’s going to ask each person, with the show ending, who they think will be the “last person standing.” He didn’t say man, I don’t think, but the echo of Beth’s line was painfully obvious. And he asked Emily first. And who did she say? She said Norman, or Norman and Melissa.

So, she didn’t actually say Daryl, and the “Norman and Melissa” thing is pretty obvious given the spinoff. But we literally had them asking who the last “person” standing would be, and she said Norman/Daryl. Just saying.

Then Lauren did this mock, I-can’t-believe-you-didn’t-pick-your-sister thing and they all started laughing and Emily said something like, “just kidding. If I were writing the script, they’d kill all the walkers and Maggie would be queen.” I think IRonE answered the question as well, but I think what he said got lost in all the goofing around.

But yeah. Obvious Bethyl reference and they indirectly tied it to the spinoff. Just saying.

So, before I get to the final one, they they took Emily and IronE away and brought on Angela and Gimple. That part was kind of meh. Just nothing that really jumped out at me. Chris asked Gimple to give us some tidbits about the Rick movies. And Gimple did his usual, “we’re working on it but can’t say much” thing. So then Chris asked AK to talk about the bonus episodes. She talked a lot more than Gimple and Chris gave Gimple crap about that. But honestly, she pretty much just repeated what we already know from the episode synopses that were released: A Daryl/Carol episode, a Negan episode, with Hillary Burton, more on Eugene’s group, etc. So yeah. Nothing knew or exciting there.

They showed a very short clip of the table read from the episode where Daryl and Carol go their separate ways. I thought it was interesting that they used that particular moment. But I suppose they’re doing it to hype the spinoff.

Finally, they ended with Chris reading a TWD rendition of Twas the Night Before Christmas. Most of it was cute little rhymes about the various characters, but one part REALLY jumped out at me.

“And that’s when they saw it high up on a shelf:

A new walking talkie. Was it left by an elf?

They heard static and crackling but nothing made sense

The room became quiet, so SERIOUS, so tense.

Together they gathered, a closer look they did take

When a helicopter overhead made the entire house shake.

And then a voice on the walkie was heard so clear and so bright

It was Rick grimes wishing “Peace unto all and to all a good night.”

 Now, there were other passages I found suspicious as well. Stuff about Daryl and Dog, and Connie and Kelly receiving tons of cats for Christmas. You’ll have to tell me what part stands out most to you.

But here, we have a voice on a walkie, Rick in a helicopter, and a serious mention. Of course they were never going to put Beth’s name in here. It would be too obvious, but given the parallels between her and Rick, I know I don’t have to explain why this makes me happy. AND in the story, it’s happening on Christmas Eve. The return of a character they think is dead.

So I think it also works with the Up on the Housetop theme I mentioned at the beginning. As I said, I wasn’t sure about that at first, but after hearing their poem, it made me think I was barking up the right tree there.

So, because there was such a heavy “return” emphasis here, it got me thinking of the weirdness of having a holiday special at all. I hadn’t really questioned it before now. Just something fun to tide people over. Because Covid, you know?

But now it feels like a clue that THIS is the Christmas after which she’ll return. They’re doing it this year, where they haven’t in years past, because THIS is the year Daryl will get something from Santa Clause.

Also, about a week ago (before the special aired) @wdway​ sent me an article about it. It was obvious this was filmed early, not live, because the article actually talked about some of what would happen in the holiday special. And the part they talked about was where Emily said Norman would be the last man standing.

So what we found suspicious about that (apart from what I’ve already talked about here; the blatant echo of a famous Bethyl moment) is that the article ONLY talked about Emily and that question. It mentioned who else would be on and such, but the entire emphasis of the article was Emily and her answer to that question.

So it felt like the special was entirely geared toward featuring Emily.  

Thoughts?

[pointnumbersixteen]

A Head Cannon Biography and Character Analysis and of the Captain, Part 2: the Boarding School Years, with a Digression on My Own Gay Youth

Back to head cannon for a bit: it’s my thought that all of this (see part 1) led to Cap’s dad shipping him off to a military boarding school the next year in an attempt to ‘man the gay out,’ as was often done back in the day (you don’t end up as repressed as the Captain without the help of at least a few people in repressing you, parents first and foremost- I’m out to everyone in the world except my parents, they’re religious conservatives). 

If we want to pick something specific, a quick google search yielded me that the Duke of York’s Royal Military school was established in 1803 and starts taking boarders at eleven, which fits into my timeline nicely, so let’s go with that. (Or something similar. Maybe something a bit harsher if that’s a nice place. I don’t know. Again, I’m in the US.)

And little-boy-Cap was probably given the explicit message when he was sent that the person who he was was unacceptable, and that the person the school would mold him into was the person that he should be. And like any eleven year old boy, he wants to be accepted, he wants his father to approve of him, so he tries his best, his absolute best, to conform. And never quite succeeds. (I feel very sad for little-boy-Cap.)

First off, he doesn’t like military school. It’s against his nature. He has too much natural enthusiasm. He can’t quite get control of his emotions. I think his line to the plague pit people in the basement of Button House when he tries to take over their group in s1e6 about how they might not like it or find it easy, but order and discipline were necessary, was drawn from his own experience of not liking it and not finding it easy at first. And like any kid who is doing what they find hard and that don’t like out of nothing more than obligation, it’s a struggle for him at first. He’s probably one of the last to make it up to snuff and that already puts him lower in the pecking order to the staff and other students than the boys that arrived enthusiastically ready and quick to pick up on being some gloriously romanticized soldier (this being before WWI, of course, after which war was far less gloriously romanticized). And besides that, socially he’s just a bit off.

Drawing from my own non-het eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth years, back in the late nineties, when being gay was no longer a crime but still generally considered a sin and in many places socially unacceptable: he would have found himself flustered in the changing rooms before and after sports, alternatively stealing the odd glance and pointedly not looking at the other boys so hard that it was too obvious that he was NOT LOOKING, he would have been randomly finding his eyes coming to rest too often on the best looking boy in his class, even though said boy is way too cool to associate with him socially and thus he’d have no reason to be looking at them so often, he wouldn’t have been interested when the other boys started contemplating the headmaster’s daughter or whatever passed for a female film star in 1910’s silent cinema (or however else boys crushed on in the 1910’s, I don’t know), for long enough that it becomes noticeable that he isn’t interested and then when he notices he’s being noticed, he overcompensates, like James in Derry Girls in the Protestant exchange episode, so desperate to prove that he’s normal and one of the straights that it comes across as somewhat distasteful, more-than-usual-for-the-time-period misogynistic, and way over the top. And since he can’t understand what makes the hets talk about girls, he never quite gets the timing or context of these conversations right. And while no one is sure- he’d probably get kicked out if people were sure- whatever passed for gay slurs at the time were probably tossed his way or at least snickered behind his back the way the word ‘fag’ was hurled at any boy who didn’t conform to whatever was socially cool when I was in middle school, whether they were gay or not.

And this is where my experiences will have to diverge from his, because while I took that moment to think to myself that if the Bible and my peers and society and whatever else aren’t okay with me, fuck ‘em, he did not reach that conclusion. In his defense, it was much easier for me to get there. I knew society was turning in my direction and doing so quite quickly. When I came out in school during my junior year of high school, what moderate social life I had didn’t change because of it. No one stopped changing in front of me in the locker room or called me any names. It was becoming progressively uncool to use ‘gay’ as a synonym for ‘uncool.’ When our principal called me into her office my senior year to enquire about my English teacher saying that I was a lesbian in class (it had somehow came into our discussion of the Canterbury Tales, although I no longer remember how), she whispered ‘lesbian’ like it was a bad word and she thought the teacher had insulted me, but when I told her I was in fact a lesbian, she pasted on a smile (although she did literally clutch her pearls) and sent me on my way with nothing more than, ‘I just wanted to make sure you weren’t upset.’ The campus Gay Straight Alliance was offered as an optional activity the very first night of my first year orientation at university. The upperclassman club officers ended up taking all of us baby-gays to a drag bar in the seedy section of downtown. It was amazing. The Repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell (which kept people from being openly gay in the military in the US) took place just a few months after I graduated from college and a few months before I enlisted in the US Army. Gay Marriage was legalized when I was twenty-six. As I grew up, society gave me more and more room to be gay. 

The Captain didn’t have that luxury. Even if he’d lived to be a hundred, he never would have seen any of it. His society and place in time wouldn’t allow him to be gay. The penalty for being caught out as gay in the UK when he died was still two years at hard labor in prison and/or chemical castration. And, as unfortunately proven by Alan Turing in ’52, who killed himself afterwards, that penalty was still regularly enforced.  

So more head cannon: He had to know he was gay, of course. He never became interested in women and after WWI was over, it wasn’t like there was a shortage of single women in England. His attraction to attractive men is obvious enough that Julian notices it on the regular. Teen-Cap couldn’t miss it. But the Captain told himself, like he’d tell Fannie later in Reddy Weddy, to bury those emotions because nothing good would ever come of them. If he never acted on his feelings, he probably told himself, it wasn’t a crime or a sin or a violation of military conduct or shame to his family, and therefore he wasn’t ever going act on it. Maybe he even convinced himself that if he never actually did anything gay, he wasn’t actually technically gay. 

The poor guy probably died a virgin, or something pretty close to it, maybe a slip up or two in anonymous sorts of situations, but he does his best to repress and mostly succeeds on not acting on it. No grand affairs or romances for him. But he still didn’t quite fit socially, either. As his fellow schoolmates were having relationships and later his fellow officers were getting married and having kids, he couldn’t bring himself to do it (there’s plenty of evidence in the show for him being very squeamish and in the Byron episode it clearly pained him to even say the word ‘intercourse,’ even the idea of het-sex seems to be squick for him), and his eyes still lingered too long on especially handsome men, and he would likely have been suspected and not quite accepted. He probably led a very lonely life. (I feel very sad for adult-Cap, too.)

[crowleyellestair]

Hello, how are you? Are taking requests? If so, could you please write a Lambert blurb? I read you Eskel one and I love it! Thank yoooou

AN// Thank you! I’m glad you liked my other one <3 I wrote this, then realised you wanted a blurb. This is a little longer, but I will get to writing a shorter thing for ya. Requests are always open!

  Kaer Morhen was a wrecked fortress, with rubble rolling over every lick of the mountain it was built into. Only ghosts and the remaining witchers tread through the demolished halls, unless bringing on a willed companion. Geralt was the only wone who ever brought people with, though they were growing less welcome by the person. Yennefer, Triss Ciri and Dandelion had taken the trail and had spent winters within the walls. Though, after Triss, the White Wolf was warned by the youngest witcher that compliancy with new people was quickly dwindling.

It had made sense. Yennefer was known to have her talons embedded in the wolf’s fur, which never really gave anyone hope for any other sorceress from the Lodge. The Merigold had come along, chestnut hair bouncing in the wind, her nose held high. Lambert hadn’t taken too kindly to what she preached, as she hadn’t spent every winter in the keep- everything she saw and spoke down upon were things the men were well aware of. He swore, that if the woman ever spoke poorly of his manners again, he’d show her just how ‘savage’ he could really be.

Luckily, this winter was looking up. The men usually informed the others of any companions they were bringing, but there was no word from Geralt. Yennefer had made a large fuss after Triss had apparently tattled, so the young Lion Cub would be spending winter with her and the Lodge. While Lambert would begrudgingly admit he’d miss the little spitfire, being alone also sounded like a nice difference. It been a rough year for him and the public, and despite hating being alone with his own ghosts, he wasn’t sure he could handle more people.

When his medallion started to vibrate against his chest, every hair on his body stood on end. He clutched the powdered dimeritium closer to his chest, ready to start a war. He had warned Geralt, and he wasn’t one to joke when it came to disrespect and people associated with it. Geralt strolled through the front door, and a younger female gasp was heard behind him. Eskel was quick to evaluate Lambert’s reaction, but decided to greet the two.

“Brother, glad you made it.” The two wolves’ arms fell around each other in a familiar yet rare embrace. The brunette pulled away to ask his friend, “And who is this?” The subject of the question turned from the pile of supplies she was looking over to show a bright smile. Her hand jabbed towards him through the air, excitement seeming to be her driving force.

“Hello! Y/n, mage consultant of Dorian. Thank you for being kind enough to allow me to stay here, it’s an honor.” The hand not meeting her shake went up to brush over his scar, and landing behind his neck. He gave a small, dubious smile, trying to cover up Lambert’s loud scoff with a response. Despite being across the large hall, it was clear as day what type of anger and disgust that dripped from the young witcher.

“Eskel. I don’t know about honor coming with it, but you are welcome. We aren’t entirely sure the reasoning behind your stay, but you’re here now.” Y/n’s smile faltered when their hands dropped.

“Oh, my apologies. I helped Yennefer and Ciri out of a large scuffle, but some people are after me now.” Lambert had left his spot on the table to come to the group. Shoulder’s squared, he threw on a sarcastic smirk.

“What type of people does a sorceress need to worry about?” Sorceress was spoken with a fake worshiping tone, with hand gestures in the air to allude to him seeing them as overpowered deities. The woman’s smile fell completely at the new character’s entrance. Both Eskel and Geralt watched as her chest popped out as well, and her eyes followed Lamberts purposely. Though, it was clear it wasn’t a struggle for dominance, but for respect.

“I’m actually a simple mage. Human. Aging and all. That’s why Geralt offered to help,” her tone became stronger through her finishing statement. “And why it was so surprising I was any help in the first place.” Eskel’s eyes widened, looking to his younger brother. No one had approached his berating with that tactic. How can one bully someone who already bullies themselves- and with such confidence and bravado? Eskel stepped in, his shoulder barley overlapping Lambert’s, giving a small buffer between the two.

“This is Lambert. He’s always this way, but he is kind.” The man in question rolled his eyes before folding his arms over his chest. His glare flickered to Geralt, and snarled out,

“I told you after Merigold that I’m not dealing with this horse shit.” Every consonant was hit with a certain venom that reminded the other two of the Viper school. Grealt had huffed, folding his arms as well while it was the mage’s turn to scoff.

“Triss? I wouldn’t say I’m in league with her.” Wide eyes flew to her, but she gave a nonchalant shrug. Her eyes wandered over everything but them, her attention easily being taken by the new location. “I might have a great knowledge of alchemy and chemistry, but she was never fond of how I conducted my experiments. You need to take risks for breakthroughs, even if it’s yourself that’s at risk.” Her eyes finally met everyone else’s. “I know she didn’t want me to hurt myself, but discovery is harnessing the unknown. I know the risks. She certainly could have laid it on nicer though.”

Vesemir’s entrance back into the great hall had taken a weight off of the White Wolf’s shoulders. He had mentioned the tension she might face, but he hadn’t been too worried. Though her introduction was kind, he wasn’t confident that it would deter the young man. He wasn’t one to let go of grudges, especially since they are his main bedfellows.

A week had gone by, and the men hadn’t really seen the mage outside of mealtimes. While it was understandable as they were really only focused on three other things: Training lounging, and rebuilding the ruin. As far as Lambert was concerned, that’s how it should be. This was his time, and she was Geralt’s guest. If she stayed away and was only summoned for meals, so be it. Though, this fake paradise was short lived once Vesemir asked him to escort her through the mountain to the old watchtower.

He didn’t bother knocking on the library door when he pushed it open as it was his home. There was a certain strut he had to him, but his grand, sassy entrance was wasted as the mage was leaned over the large table that had been pushed to the side years ago. Lambert stopped just next to her, leaning over her shoulder to find multiple books spread over a large map. Penciled in circles scattered over its surface, and she had a finger running over a book’s text before adding another circle.

There was no attention afforded to the man yet, and he was able to finally get a clear look at her. Her frame was covered in thicker layers that still had lighter colors despite the norm having otherwise. Light blues painted the clothes with white furs lining it. He was glad to see she wore trousers, dreading to have to carry a woman through the mountain if she strips over the skirt of a dress. Her skin looked soft- too soft to be found in the fort. Even Triss and Yen, with their perfect skin, had a specific hardness to them. Weathered skin, while it can look flawless, has a texture. There were burns and cuts that littered Y/n’s hands and wrists, likely from the experiments she had mentioned when she first arrived. Despite those blemishes, Lambert was sure that he would only feel a silk or velvet like thing- he wasn’t familiar with either textures, so the fluffy words were things he must have picked up in passing with Dandelion. If he were to reach out, he was sure she would fit snuggly in his arms.

The young witcher was lost in his observations, so when she abruptly stood straight, he had to work double to make sure she didn’t touch him. She turned; a bright smile that had the sun reflected in her eyes beamed at him. The map was being rolled in her hands and was shoved into a satchel that was hastily thrown over her shoulder.

“Thanks for doing this, Lambert. I think I’ll find the herb at the watchtower, but if not, there are three other places it might be. Of course, if you don’t want to, we could go out a different day if the tower is a bust.” His arms crossed over his chest, trying to shield himself from the onslaught of positivity.

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. ‘We’ could easily turn into a ‘you and someone else’. I was volunteered, and I doubt I’ll be as willing to waste my precious minutes next time.” He gave a smile that was tainted with sarcasm. Despite this, her hand had somehow made its way to his upper arm, and gave a light squeeze. Her smile faltered, telling him something hit home, but she put up a strong front.

“I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that this herb will help in covering my magic footprint. Therefore, we find this now, you won’t have to see me later. Volunteered or not, I’m sure you’ll find some joy from today’s journey somehow.” The feigned joy that radiated from her statement threw the man through the wringer again. The deflection by self-destruction in their first meeting had obliterated the jesting wall around his heart. It had defenses- it had to. One of the main defenses it had was what some would call bullying, but he usually never meant any jest he tossed. But it was like he threw a bomb at her, and by her using aard against herself, it blew the bomb back at his wall by getting caught in the gust. And again, he was taken back. He was familiar with the tactic, but only because it was something he used to do before the trials. If you bully yourself, no one else can find joy in doing it. He saw himself in that moment, and it made him wonder, what happened to her?

Lambert nodded, moving to give a grandiose wave of the arm.

“Lead the way.” With that, the two headed towards the tower. Luckily, there were trails leading to it, but unluckily for them, they met trouble. The mountains were crawling with bears, and while both Lambert and Y/n were fine with it, it seemed the bears weren’t fond of them. A smaller, yet fair size bear walked in the way of the path, though it looked to be alone.

Lambert was quick to pull his steel, but he stiffened when he felt the mage’s hand clamp around his that gripped the sword. His eyes glared towards her for a moment, but her eyes were still on the bear. She was completely still, which made Lambert roll his eyes. Then, her voice came out stiff, lips unmoving.

“Stay very still.” His eyes rolled, but decided not to move. He couldn’t smell any fear, but anxiety still came off in soft waves.

“That doesn’t really work. If someone from the School of the Bear heard that, they’d laugh at you.” He watched as her body shifted slowly, and only when she couldn’t see the bear’s eyes. After a minute of the standoff, she was behind him completely. The young bear looked baffled when she was gone, and started to move quickly towards them. Lambert brought his sword in front of him, but he heard a small, ‘get ready’ in his ear. His form broke when Y/n jumped onto his back. His hands automatically fell under her legs, and shifted her up. Despite catching her, he remained confused until he heard her make something between a roar and a scream. It was loud and full, but to him it sounded as if a kitten were impersonating a lion. The bear, who looked as though he was going to stand on his hind legs and strike, quickly fled. Lambert let her fall from his arms before picking up his discarded sword.

“That shouldn’t have worked.” He looked to her, who was smiling and looking quite pleased. She turned to face him, throwing her hands over her head, while curling her fingers to make fake claws.

“Well, we make quite the feral beast.” Lambert’s head was thrown back at the loud and powerful laugh that raked through him. He felt his shoulders quake, and his eyes close, but the other half of their ‘feral beast’ stood there blushing. Her hands fell back down by her sides, and she simply stood. When his laughing died down, and she still simply stood, he sensed her. He noticed the elevated heartrate and turned, hand on hilt, making sure another bear didn’t appear. When there was nothing, he turned back.

“What?” Her blush grew, and she bent to fix her boots and fiddle with her satchel. When everything seemed in order, she turned to start walking toward the tower again. The witcher followed, and after a moment, she looked to him.

“You have a beautiful laugh, is all.” Lambert immediately stiffened, but when he listened to her heart, he found she was telling the truth. It was still elevated, but the flush that was still spread overhear cheeks and neck was the reasoning for it. His brows still furrowed as they continued to the destroyed building.

It didn’t make sense. People don’t like Lambert. He was brash and blunt, neither attribute highly sought after. Brutal honesty is what he gave because the other option was lying. Lying by sprinkling in a kindness that he knew didn’t exist in the world. There was little positivity that he gave because there was never any shown back to him. He knew that it wasn’t too fair, as he gave up looking for it. There were always moments when he would be shown that sun, but every other day was grey. And being a witcher at the core was the nail in the coffin. People didn’t want to interact with a mutated monstrosity, let alone like them. Or find their laugh beautiful.

The young witcher agreed with himself in putting up extra defenses. This random mage who was on the run wouldn’t get any closer to that fortress he called his heart. He tried to forget the multiple smiles she has thrown his way over the past week. The multiple times she received the bread bowl, and asked if he wanted any before taking some. The short, passing statements that showed a valley of pain behind the mountains of kindness. Forget those bright eyes that show no judgement for anything but herself.

Disappointment was obvious when they made it to the tower, and she couldn’t find it. Lambert stood by the entrance, watching with crossed arms and a dismissive look as her shoulders fell. His golden eyes fluttered over their surroundings for a moment, looking for wraiths or bears. He looked back to where Y/n had just been, but ran in when she was gone. He found her halfway up a tattered latter, a look of determination obvious.

“What are you doing? If Vesemir- hell, if Geralt sees me carrying you back to the fort with broken bones, it’ll be my ass on the chopping block. Get down.” While he was telling the truth, and his tone was harsh, he did feel worried. He is her escort, and he can’t have her getting hurt on his watch. If a strong witcher can’t protect her on a simple scavenger hunt, what would she think of him once she was better? Would she still smile at him? He doubted it, and the way he covered up his real reasonings didn’t matter. She didn’t know he needed her safe to see her smile at him willingly. Y/n turned, pointing up somewhere towards the remaining top of the turret. He could see her red, cold fingertips due to the fingerless gloves she decided to wear. While it was just frost and light snow that covered everything, the chances of her fall was too high.

“There’s a platform up there, and I’m gonna check.”

“No.”

“What?” He shook his head, putting his hands on her hips. He lifts her easily and places her softly back on the ground.

“I’ll go. What does it look like?” Again, Y/n simply stood there. She shook her head, while quickly going for her satchel.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. The herb. Give me a moment.” Lambert dropped his hands from her hips when she had to maneuver her bag over his arm. The mage pulled the book from her back, opening to the page with a small purple bud. “They’re hard to spot. If it’s open, don’t touch it. If it’s closed, give it a pinch. It should be hard to the touch despite its gentle looking exterior.” He nodded, and turned to the latter. It didn’t take too long to scale the rubble, finding the small buds. He did as she asked, and gathered a handful before jumping and flipping back down. When he landed, and presented the buds, her eyes sparkled much like they did when she first arrived.

“Are you going to take them, or did I do all of that for nothing?” Again, she shook herself back to reality, tearing her eyes from his face. He didn’t feel it happen, but a small smile crept onto his face. He wasn’t even trying to impress, much like he would in the courtyard. Her fingertips brushed the heel of his hand as she gathered the buds, and he felt a yearning he hadn’t felt before. He was right; her skin was soft. Cold, but soft. He wanted those fingertips to brush over him again. One of the tips felt rough, likely from the same place those burns came from. But it was a pleasant difference, and something he’d love to explore.

“Perfect, Lambert.” Her voice was soft, and she hadn’t said anything after that. She smiled and turned, jerking her head to beckon him to follow. He did like a lost dog. They made their way back to the keep, Y/n rambling about the importance of the plant. There was an interlude in her speech when she asked, “How do wolves climb? Is that like a special power you have? How high can you climb? Can you do anything else as cool?” A smirk found its way to his face as they entered past the bridge.

“I frequent with people from the School of the Cat. I don’t think the others can do quite what I can. They don’t like when I hang with them, but I think it’s just jealousy. And yeah, I have a whole arsenal of tricks.” He smiled to her during his last statement that earned what he would classify as a giggle.

“Well, it was quite spectacular.” Lambert found his smirk falling, trying to figure out why that statement would be made. They made their way back to the main hall, where his eyes danced over the rest of the men at the table. “I’m going back to the library. Thank you again for the help.” Her hand flew back to his arm, giving another light squeeze. “If you want to show any other cool things from that school, I’d happily watch.” Lambert watched as the blushing mage flew to the stairs. Once they all heard her footsteps disappear, the men at the table start to chuckle. Lambert throws his swords onto the tabletop, falling in place next to Eskel. Before the brunette takes a drink, he jokes,

“No more Merigolds, Geralt. Our guest has to go.” More chuckles stirred around him, but he didn’t react from his hunched position, looking at the table.

That woman should be running from witchers. If she didn’t run from face value, she’d definitely run with a man riddled with rage and a torn past. Even if he wanted to pursue Y/n, there are multiple points in their courting where he knew she would run. He didn’t want to be fixed if she didn’t, and he knew those types. They think they can strut in and try to glue pieces back together. But it’s never right, and he is forced to break down the new image they tried to build. But there’s something more to her that makes him hesitate to brush her off completely. And the warmth he tried to deflect had gotten past those walls that kept his heart.

[silverypurple-rosedlions]

The Ring | T.P.R

Annual September Mafia Gathering

12.9.20 - 7:00 PM

The Gathering Has Begun

"Jeonghan?"

Jeonghan looked up from his hands, being greeted by a shape he didn't recognize. They towered over him, casting their shadow over him as his eyes strained. But something in him clicked, the urge to protect himself as he whipped out his butterfly knife. He flicked it open, the blade shining as the light reflected off from it as his grip tightened. But someone placed their hand on his, a touch he recognized too well as he relaxes, his vision obscured.

"Hannie, it's Mingyu and me," Jeonghan closed his eyes, recognizing the smooth and comforting voice of his partner, flicking his knife closed.

"I don't think you should be here with us tonight," Mingyu sighed.

Jeonghan shook his head in denial, feeling Joshua draping himself over him. Jeonghan leaned his head against Joshua's gently, feeling secured within his embrace. "Don't speak nonsense, Mingyu. I have to do it tonight, and my condition won't stop me from doing so,"

"Listen to me, Hannie," Jeonghan opened his eyes, shifting his gaze towards Joshua. The two locked eyes and the minute Jeonghan could register that it was Joshua, Jeonghan noticed the look of worry fogging his lover's dark brown orbs and the anxiety hidden behind that fog. "You haven't been able to pull yourself together after you talked to Seungcheol..." Jeonghan sighed, turning his head away from Joshua. "What did he say to you, Hannie?"

"Seungcheol..."

══════◄••❀••►══════

"Everyone's lives are on the table, Jeonghan," Seungcheol said, his head dropping into hands in despair. "We thought we had it under control, and that our plans were perfect, almost impeccable... But we were too desperate and naive, thinking too highly of our plan. We made numerous mistakes because we didn't calculate it and because we didn't prepare ourselves for the unimaginable, and I'm the one to blame."

Jeonghan's chest tightened as he listened, his brows furrowed as his leg bounced vigorously under the table, but never causing it to rock with him.

"We were forced to cut ties with you and your group and to leave you all behind. Not because we had our differences, because even then, we found ground between each other. But if we defied them, then too many were going to be slaughtered like lambs for being "disobedient." Even your own, Jeonghan," Seungcheol explained. "So we left. Others understood, and others misunderstood, believing that it was the time to turn away from people "who were far from grace and were guided by Satan," Seungcheol shook his head.

"Believe me, Jeonghan." Seungcheol looked into Jeonghan's eyes, conflicting the other who was unfamiliar with a man he saw as strong and stern, to now being a pitiful and regretful man before him. "I wanted to send supplies. I wanted to send members one by one to help without being detected, but the stakes were too high. We had already crossed territory we had attempted to avoid for years, and if we pushed farther, then you wouldn't see us today. Not a single one of us,"

Jeonghan leaned back, his expression void of emotion as his mind spiraled. "And so you did it anyway... What you would gain was another day to live, and another, and further on until now. But to do so, you were forced to abandon us..."

With a solemn expression, Seungcheol nodded to The Purple Rose leader, who was contemplating.

"So we continued as usual, but there were times that things were changed, and not by us... No. We had to fulfill what "they" requested unless another disappeared, and another. It was excruciating." Seungcheol sighed heavily, crossing his arms over his chest. "Every day, I had to wait for something, anything, to ensure that it wouldn't contain anything that would hint of a member dying. And sometimes, they did arrive. One disappeared, and then we found them already buried. Another was kidnapped and left for dead after being brutally attacked, and then another,"

"Has anyone else experienced this?" Jeonghan questioned, studying the older's expressions and movement. "Anyone else tugged like puppets by this group?"

"I haven't the slightest clue. We couldn't speak to anyone about this till now," Seungcheol said. "This is the only opportunity we have to converse with each other about this ordeal because of the proposal,"

"So, they still abide by some rules, huh? No one can touch two Bosses and their group if they are to be engaged. What a joke." Jeonghan scoffed, leaning his head back. But when he looked towards the ceiling, a figure greeted him. Their face loomed over his, faint and black. But their smile, her smile, was the most distinguishable. It was mocking, big and white, stretching from ear to ear while her hair was in a messy bun.

"Someone's watching, Jeonghan," She mouthed, her hands moving to his shoulders. "They're listening, Jeonghan. Don't you see it? They're here,"

Jeonghan closed his eyes, lifting his head and looking back to Seungcheol. She was still there too, nothing but a foggy figure that was unable to stay together, their legs like smoke engulfing the floor. While she petted Seungcheol's head, shaking her head, Seungcheol was talking, but his voice was too far, too static. Static. Static.

"You may not trust him, Jeonghan. But you know better. Oh, yes, you do," The woman giggled, draping herself over the other Boss, who took a sip of his drink, brows furrowed. "But who cares if they'll die. They deserve it, don't they? Don't they deserve to feel the pain and abandonment you and your group bear?" She said with a sly voice, but Jeonghan tsked in response. He took his cup and downed the entire glass. The woman scoffed in response, and the static noise became bearable, slowly subsiding as Jeonghan consumed every drop of the drink. So when he looked back at Seungcheol, it was only him. Just him. Just him.

"I don't have any interest in you, Jeonghan," Seungcheol said, finally breaking the remaining whispers of noise, of unbearable static noise. "This proposal has no other meaning but to ensure the safety of my group, and to ensure your groups' safety if they attempt to conduct this again. Just like anyone here, they won't be able to do a single thing to us if we're combined, no matter if they affected one group and not the other."

"That's a brilliant idea, you know?" Jeonghan mocked, his lip curling. "Do you hear yourself, Seungcheol? Relying on this to think it will silence this group? Have you lost your mind within two years?"

"Probably," Seungcheol responded with slight amusement, causing Jeonghan to laugh. "And yet it took you three months to lose yours," Jeonghan could be offended, reaching over the table and grabbing the Boss by the sweater, but he didn't. Instead, he smiled to himself. He smiled a wicked smile.

"Indeed. Three months and I was creating massacres after another," Jeonghan said, relishing the memories of his cruel nature.

"But tell me, Jeonghan," Seungcheol began, becoming stern. "Do you think I'm lying now?"

Jeonghan tilted his head, leaning back in his chair with a faint smile. His eyes narrowed on Seungcheol, taking one last look before his eyes darted to the left, his smile fading.

"Perhaps..." Jeonghan responded calmly, but then a smirk blossomed on his face. "Perhaps not,"

"At least find it in yourself to spare my group. Spare them, and not me. You may do as you like to me, make me go through unbearable pain, make me a fool in front of everyone, or remove me, permanently. Whatever you want from me, you may do, but in exchange, have mercy on my group," Seungcheol said, causing Jeonghan to sigh softly. "That's all I ask. Protection for the thousands of members I lead,"

"Seungcheol-"

══════◄••❀••►══════

"He explained to me everything," Jeonghan finished. Listening as people clanked their glass cups together, laughing and gossiping.

"And it able to justify his actions?" Joshua asked, pulling a chair over and sitting in front of Jeonghan.

"Well... It certainly made me think deeply about it," Jeonghan sighed, running his free hand through his hair before gently tugging his hair with irritation, feeling as if something was crawling inside him, making his insides itch.

"Don't do that, Jeonghan," Joshua said, taking Jeonghan's other hand gently from his hair and holding both in his. "But... Does it change anything? Anything we all agreed on?"

"...In some ways, yes," Jeonghan answered reluctantly, someone letting out a laugh of dismay.

"Is that so?" Jihoon interrupted, causing the three to look towards the Consigliere, his arms crossed over his chest. "Then explain to us what in the world he said-"

But Jihoon didn't finish as the gathering commenced, mafias shuffling to their tables and sitting down. Jihoon glared towards the host, snapping his head back towards Jeonghan, mouthing to him, "You need to explain," before moving towards his assigned seat and sat down. Jeonghan looked towards Mingyu, who shook his head, patting Jeonghan's shoulder and wheeling to his assigned seat. As for Joshua, he sighed, turning his chair and holding Jeonghan's hand under the table. 

"You won't explain it to us until afterward, won't you?" Joshua whispered. But before Jeonghan could respond, Joshua shook his head, squeezing his hand. "That's fine."

As usual, the gathering began with a welcome from the numerous staff members of the Worldwide International Mafia Organization, the very people who documented everything and everyone within the mafia community. It was a boring introduction, many of them introducing themselves for new members and groups, going into depth of rules, and so on. The essentials that the groups needed to understand, to be specific. From there, they transitioned into the recognition of new groups and members, welcoming them. Afterward, having them take oaths to their superiors within their groups and accept the rules that all mafias needed to follow. And of course, Jeonghan and various Bosses of each group stood together in their rankings, congratulating the new groups.

Jeonghan was among the first ranks, the first that the groups would see. And it was no surprise that all were hesitant to approach him, some trembling as they took his hand and shook it, giving forced smiles, some shocked when they held his icy, cold hand, immediately jerking away. Others looked towards him as a role model, but when they walked away from him, their legs were weak and appeared like mush as they attempted to continue down the line of Bosses. It was always an amusing sight for Jeonghan, but his thoughts and voices plagued him, making his presence seem as if anyone approaching such a stoic and deranged man like him would die from a deathly plague that he emitted.

Luckily, there weren't that many new groups but various members to greet. But it wasn't long before Jeonghan was seated beside Joshua, wanting nothing more but to be intoxicated with Joshua, embracing him as he slipped into slumber. But that wouldn't happen any time soon as the Organizations' leader lifted the microphone to his lips, addressing the three heads of each group to move to the meeting rooms. 

From there, Jeonghan, Joshua, and Jihoon listened to all present and exchanged their updates, their achievements, and so forth. Jeonghan sat through it, listening towards Bosses accusing one another, others cursing and spitting malice, some mocking the other, and those who spoke calmly despite the turmoil within the room. It was long, longer than the previous meeting they had in August before they closed it, moving back into the prior space the rest were residing, waiting.

But before Jeonghan could sit down, massaging his temples as he grumbled in agitation about the nonsense with the groups, the moment they had been waiting for came.

"And before we proceed with the rest of the gathering, we must recognize and congratulate two mafias this year," A plump man said, looking towards Jeonghan and nodding towards him with a bright, toothy grin. Jeonghan breathed in, standing straight as the man continued. "After many years, it appears that these two mafias have finally agreed to become one in unity! Please congratulate The Purple Rose Boss, Yoon Jeonghan, and The Purple Rose Underboss, Hong Joshua Jisoo!" The room filled with cheers and the thunderous sounds of claps, bouncing off the walls and causing Jeonghan's head to pound. But he didn't comment about it, seeing the plump man gesture for Joshua and him to walk onto the platform he stood with the staff.

Jeonghan then turned to Joshua, seeing him look down to his lap. Taking Joshua's hand, Jeonghan gently helped his partner from his seat, giving a reassuring smile towards Joshua, who looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, relaxing. Together, accompanied by Jihoon and Wonwoo, walked towards the platform.

But instead, Jeonghan handed Joshua to Wonwoo, stopping at the steps as whispers of confusion filled the room, the sounds of cheers and congratulations subsided. Wonwoo took Joshua to the side of the platform, patting his back gently while Jeonghan turned his head towards Seungcheol, Jihoon waiting at his side with his eyes narrowed with dissatisfaction.

Jeonghan watched as Seungcheol stood up, followed by his Consigliere, Vernon, fixing his coat as he maneuvered around the tables and walked towards Jeonghan. Suddenly, gasps filled the room, people exclaiming and whispering as Seungcheol stood beside Jeonghan, stepping onto the platform together. Following them was Jihoon and Vernon, refusing to look at each other as the staff exchanged baffled looks with one another. But Jeonghan could hear the mafias whispering, and even those who shouted.

"Since when did the two agree upon this?"

"Disgusting!"

"Did Joshua and Jeonghan break up?"

"When did this happen?!"

"Talk about being greedy for power,"

"Absolutely not!"

"Typical,"

"Is it possible Jeonghan cheated?"

But nothing was done about it despite the angered voices that clashed against those who proposed absurd suggestions, and Jeonghan noticed Joshua beginning to turn red with rage, and if Wonwoo hadn't been there at his side, he'd lose it.

"You mean to say-... Oh my," The man had said, looking flustered and confused.

"FORTUNATELY OR NOT," Jeonghan bellowed, his voice loud and silencing the chaos within the room, startling various groups that shrank, others grumbling, "I haven't given my answer to the proposal,"

Jeonghan turned from the people, facing Seungcheol, who's shoulders were straight and brought back, portraying that familiar sophisticated and dominating appearance that many recognized. But he was nervous, and Jeonghan didn't need to see it in his eyes or have the need to study his body movements.

"Although it isn't an ideal proposal, we have gone through the following agreements if I accept, isn't that right?" Jeonghan said, making sure all heard him as the air became thick with anticipation.

"That's right," Seungcheol responded calmly.

"If I were to accept, our groups will conjoin and share the burden we both carry individually. Both will receive an equal share, protection for all members, and to work together as one. No feelings will be involved, as this is for business reasons. And from then on, no longer will The Purple Rose exist, and no longer will The Silver Lions exist, but one invincible group," Jeonghan said, addressing the agreed terms as the staff rushed to write down these terms. "Not only will both gain this, but Choi Seungcheol will submit himself to my group, unable to refuse what will become of him as his group will continue from then on,"

"So it's revenge that he may be accepting this?"

"He's risking himself? How foolish,"

"Shush!"

"With this accounted, have you both considered this? Are you both willing to accept these terms, and what will become of your group?" The plump man questioned, stepping forward towards the two.

TW: This will contain mentioning of blood and self-harm, but it is nothing severe. But I still warn you in advance in case this may be triggering to anyone reading this.

"I have," Seungcheol answered, keeping his eyes on Jeonghan, who didn't waver. "But I am not the one who has the choice to deny this proposal, or to accept it, establishing this,"

Jeonghan didn't respond, his eyes shifting towards his group that was on the edge of their seats, some nervously biting their nails, others twitching and whispering among each other. When he changed his gaze towards The Silver Lions, he could easily spot the familiar face of a boy he once called his own, looking towards him with desperation. And finally, he looked towards Joshua, who looked back at him with trust.

"I..." Jeonghan began, looking into Seungcheol's eyes.

"Deny," Jeonghan said with a devilish smile on his ghostly face, the room going into an uproar.

Seungcheol's eyes widened, his mouth slightly open, but no words came out. The Silver Lions exclaimed in dismay, some standing up while others held their heads down in their hands. The Purple Rose remained silent, but they were smiling wickedly, relishing the despair The Silver Lions' were under as Jeonghan took the ring off his finger, taking Seungcheol's hand and placing the jewelry on his palm, closing it and patting his hand.

"Whether feelings are involved or not, beneficial gain from one another or not, it will be HELL marrying you. To accept and take your name as mine, following terms and accepting vows, you weren't able to stay true the first time we established it? How silly," Jeonghan growled, standing tall as Seungcheol stumbled backward, clenching the ring in his hand while Vernon took hold of him.

"You-... You're risking my members' lives! Do you understand that?!" Seungcheol exclaimed, looking at Jeonghan in disbelief and distress while the mafia Boss pulled out his butterfly knife, raising his other hand to silence Seungcheol.

"Ah, ah, ah. I didn't finish," Jeonghan flicked his wrist, the weapon opening to reveal the sharp and long blade. Some gasped, others readying themselves for a possible massacre, but instead, Jeonghan calmly brought his knife to his hand, pushing it into his palm and cutting a large cut, blood oozing from the wound, trickling down his wrist. Many looked at him in repulse as he only smiled his devilish smile softly, and he then pointed his weapon towards Seungcheol, his blood dripping from the blade, slowly. "Rather than making the mistake of marrying, let's create a NEW alliance. The same terms applied from before, and the terms now aside from becoming one group,"

And that was enough to cause outbursts of disagreements from his group, even Jihoon and Joshua took a step forward in disbelief.

The mafias within the room were astonished, all conversing with each other about the predicament before them. Not even the staff of the organization could piece together the situation, who were unsure. But Jeonghan was indifferent, turning his knife so that he held the blade, offering it to Seungcheol, who was looking at him with an indescribable expression. Perhaps astonishment and a mixture of rage? Or was he lost?

But Seungcheol took the knife, stuffing the ring into his pocket, and doing the same as Jeonghan after wiping off Jeonghan's blood from the blade. Both of their palms cut, blood dripping as the staff rushed a table over with the following materials for ensuring the alliance and an agreement paper between them.  

"This will be the only time you will ever have the chance to redeem your sorry ass, Seungcheol. If you dare, ordered or not, to do the same thing again, then you will be removed permanently. Understood?" Jeonghan said, dropping his blood onto the paper and wrapping his hand with bandages, and Seungcheol followed. 

"Of course, Jeonghan," 

With their hand bandaged, their Consiglieres moved forward, conflicted as they took a red cloth from the table, allowing the Bosses to hold each other's bandaged hand, wrapping the silky fabric around their hands before taking a step back, waiting. 

And in unison, the two proceeded with the alliance ceremony, the staff creating a half-circle around them, performing the ceremony as everyone went silent, some boiling with anger, others too shocked to process, and those who were unable to differ what they felt. But one thing was for sure. . . 

"You better step up your level if you want your strings cut from the group, Seungcheol. I can't be doing all the work here,"

Things were going to become complicated, but interesting.

Admin Moon: I'm not attempting to do the "keep reading" shenanigan again. That was a pain in the ass, so deal with this- 🤧😂

🥀// @yourlocal-babybear @aikihades @sophie-svt-13 @waitingwhispers60 @seventeen-chatbot @kpop-shelter @yangomangos @m00n-nim96 @ghoulxbaekhyun @moonlit-jaemin @empress-jiaqi @time-for-confession @xash-axx @fnafnctdream-chatbot @split-jiu @artsydahyun @softdommechungha @princess-yeji [DM for +/-]

[johannstutt413]

(requested by anonymous)

“Sir SilverAsh?” Siege, hammer slung on her back, approached the CEO before they departed. “I’ve been assigned as your bodyguard for this assignment. Doctor’s orders.”

“Hmm...I didn’t request a Rhodes Island detail.” His eyes narrowed slightly.

She shrugged. “I saw the tasker and volunteered to fill it; why he sent it out is another matter.”

“Understandable.” He gave her elevator eyes, only to realize she’d given him the same. “Sizing up your ward?”

“More or less. I agree it doesn’t make much sense for the Truesilver Slasher to have a guard, but my hammer’s getting restless, so I am as well. Hopefully there’s enough action for all of us.”

SilverAsh smirked. “This is a business contract, so I don’t expect it’s likely to come to blows in that fashion, but I’ve certainly spilled more blood at less promising venues before.”

“Less promising?” Siege crossed her arms. “As in more peaceful?”

“More docile; none of these companies are truly peaceful, as I’m sure you’ve seen here at RI. Business is ruthless, and those at the top are absolute monsters...Hence my swordsmanship.”

She nodded. “Then let’s hope the monsters put up a decent fight.”

“Certainly.” He thought for a moment before extending his hand. “Enciodes SilverAsh, Chief of the Silverashes.”

“Verna, leader of Glasgow.” She shook his hand with near equal grip strength to his, despite the notable size difference. Encio took note of it, but not too seriously. After all, if the Doctor was going to send someone, it had to be someone Encio himself would have more trouble dealing with than it was worth...The fact that she was rather attractive only helped ensure that.

After taking a moment to decide which of them would enter their transport first (Encio, they determined after a bit of posturing), they set off for their destination: a merger negotiation with a small firm out of Victoria. Upon realizing where this meeting was being held, it clicked with Siege why the Doctor wanted to send her with SilverAsh...and also the reasons he should have sent someone, anyone else from Victoria besides Indra in her stead.

Those guarding the entrance to Victoria were particularly interesting in her presence in the three-vehicle procession. “Ey, wuddja lookee ‘ere! Glasgow’s finest, in the flesh! We’ve been waitin’ for you lot to come back-”

“I think you’ll find you’re mistaken,” Encio asserted. “This is Operator Siege of Rhodes Island, not whoever you’re talking about. Are you done making your false accusations and unnecessarily rifling through our papers?”

“...You don’t wonna mess with us, guv’na.”

His sword began to glow. “Likewise, gutter-lover.”

“Well that’s a new ‘un, itn’t it?” The copper drew his baton. “You wonna take a tumble, you bloody-”

“Sir SilverAsh has business in the city. This man could buy your entire precinct tomorrow; do you want to start a fight with your future boss while he isn’t concerned with your future in his company?”

Verna’s interruption gave both parties pause. Eventually, the border cops shrugged. “Eh, itn’t worth it. Let ‘em thru!”

“Thank you, Verna,” Encio said once they were out of earshot. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to deal with authorities as well as management, but it’s always better to avoid needless bloodshed.”

“Of course, Sir SilverAsh.”

He smiled. “Please, Encio’s more than fine.”

“After our business here, certainly, we shall be on first-name terms,” she replied, “but while we’re here, I’ll be playing a role to keep my identity under wraps.”

“As you wish.”

Siege shook her head. “I would recommend not holding future meetings in Londinium, whenever you can avoid it. Its residents, as a whole, leave something to be desired regarding their conduct.”

“Oh, really?” Encio leaned back in his seat. “Criminals?”

“Idealists.”

He blinked. “Idealists? Is there a rebellion fomenting here?”

“There’s a rebellion happening here.” She slipped a lollipop into her mouth. “Gangs rule the streets, whatever the authorities say. Glasgow used to hold territory here, but since we left for Rhodes Island, I doubt the others haven’t filled in the gap we left.”

“I see. Thank you for being candid with me, Ver- Siege.”

She nodded. “However I can be of service, sir.”

“Yes...” He looked out his window, mostly to keep himself from staring at her. “I’ll be taking you up on that, I’m sure.”

“Please do; I don’t make such offers lightly.”

As they arrived at the compound where they were meeting, it became clear they were not the first ones there...and judging by the bodies outside, they weren’t the only ones prepared for violence. Their team - SilverAsh and Siege, as well as Courier, Matterhorn, and a few others from the Silverash private military and the Karlan Trade Company, Ltd. - entered the premises after Siege busted through the thoroughly-locked door; she led the charge, bashing through the sturdiest of competition (specifically barriers to forward motion, like closed doors and inconvenient walls) while the rest cleaned up behind her...Until, that is, they reached the board room, where a single shot to her flank left her in need of medical attention. Those inside realized they’d shot one of their rescuers, however, as their future business partner entered the room.

As his medic stabilized Verna, Encio turned to the board of directors he was scheduled to meet with. “Which one of you shot her?”

“I did,” the company head admitted. “We didn’t realize she was one of yours-”

“Clearly. Your company’s assets will be subsumed within the week; use that time to prepare for interviews with my staffers.”

There was a commotion among the group, with one speaking towards SilverAsh. “Sir, we’ve been heading this company for some time-”

“And you expect some special privilege for that?” His sword was glowing inside its hilt. “You’re lucky you have this chance at all.”

“This is a hostile takeover! We won’t stand for this!”

Encio smiled as he drew his blade. “You won’t be standing at all, then.” One stroke, and the entire board, save one particularly meek individual, found themselves dead.

“...Thank you for sparing me, Sir.” The survivor kicked the corpse of the chairman out of his seat and sat down. “I’ll have an inventory of our assets ready when I have my interview.”

“See to it that it’s a complete one. I’m giving you another chance because you clearly aren’t from the same cloth as the others; prove me right.”

He stood and bowed. “Of course, sir...Is she going to be alright?”

“Morphine, status?” The Perro medic gave him a thumbs-up. “And with that, our transaction is complete. We’ll take you to a safer location, assuming you have digital access to your records?”

“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!”

Encio nodded, his eyes focused on Siege. “Come along, then. Is she stable enough to move?”

“Definitely,” Morphine confirmed. “The bolt itself mostly struck her intestines, so the regen work was fairly straightforward. She’ll want a work day of bedrest to make sure it holds and nothing leaks, but knowing her record, she’ll be right as rain not too long from now.”

“Good...Matterhorn, carry her to the car, please.”

He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Set her next to me once we’re in the car.” He took a deep breath. “I’m not leaving anything to chance...”

The trip back to their caravan was straightforward; however, Encio requested they take a different, more elaborate route out of Victoria in order to avoid further skirmishes. Verna was asleep for the next few hours, SilverAsh holding her so that the occasional roughness of the roads didn’t aggravate her injury. Upon reaching their first stop, she began to stir.

“...Sir Silverash...have we left Victoria?” Her voice was quiet, but not necessarily soft.

“We have, Verna.” He helped her sit up next to him. “You don’t feel like your organs are about to spill out, do you?”

She gave him a quizzical look. “Should I?”

“They nearly did. My medic took care of it, but-” Before continuing that sentence, he thought better of it.

“But?” When he replied with silence, Verna sighed. “How did the deal go?”

Encio gestured to the new former CEO. “Our takeover was swift and efficient. He’ll handle their documents, and if he does well enough, we’ll find a place for him in the company.”

“...And what happened to the others?”

“Their chairman shot you, and everyone but him showed no visible reaction.” His face hardened. “That was simply unforgivable.”

She cocked her head. “Not to imply a lapse in judgment, but was that strictly necessary?”

“No, it wasn’t, but I got very little blood on my sword before that point, and their injuring you infuriated me immensely.”

“I see.” Verna mused over this for a moment. “Why?”

He shrugged. “You’re one of my people, and I don’t take that lightly.”

“That didn’t take very long. Any particular reason you decided this so quickly?”

“Well...you might look at it as an investment.” Encio smiled at her. “An investment in the future.”

She nodded. “So you’re thinking of your succession, then?”

“...Not just that-”

“I’m familiar with the concept, Encio.” Verna smiled back at him. “So long as you realize I don’t plan on leaving the battlefield and respect that appropriately, I’d be willing to give you an heir...or several.”

He blinked once, twice, thrice, before replying. “You’ve just made my life so much less complicated.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that. My past comes with some heavy baggage.”

“I’m no stranger to heavy loads, Verna.” He put an arm, and some of his greatcoat, around her shoulders. “And with one of my more pressing concerns dealt with, I’ve got strength to spare.”

She set her head against his side. “You have a very nice coat.”

“If you’d like, I can have one like it made for you.”

“No, that’s fine.” She realized she was purring, but honestly, she’d just secured her own bloodline as well and was basking in the moment, and Encio would be hearing far more than just her purring. “We can share this one.”

[slashermom]

Goomba, I will not be cucked!! I must have a follow-up to your Collector x killer!Reader HCs!!! How does it turn into a relationship?? What happens when Asa finds out they are the killer he’s been looking for?!?! Inquiring minds need to know!!!

And the adventure continues...

Part 1 :)

It wasn’t long for you to become the center of attention to the small group of professors, PhDs, and students in the entomology program.

You had told the department you were conducting research on behalf of Dr. Connery. Who was supposed to be here but allegedly fallen ill.

A man Asa had met on a few occasions at the yearly conventions and when their paths crossed while doing research.

Asa wasn’t sure what got under his skin about you.

You were courteous and polite, albeit a bit too sure of yourself but you were careful not to step on Asa’s feet.

But besides this sting he felt in his mind when he saw you, Asa didn’t immediately find anything interesting about you. Other, more important things were preoccupying his headspace.

There had been two other murders in the weeks following the package that was left in his office. Both of which seemed closer to the university.

You were closing in on him.

These two murders were also particularly violent. Were you angry with him for not acknowledging you? Or maybe you were putting these people on such a beautifully vulgar display for him?

The more he loose ends he tried to tie up the more seemed to fall into his lap.

As he went about his days, Asa began to notice your presence become more prevalent in the department. Everywhere he turned, you were making waves in one way or another.

You often had a group of eager students hovering around you when you were conducting research. Something Asa wouldn’t have tolerated for a second. He thought it was silly and disruptive but you enjoyed the company of the students. They were also great to weasel information out of.

As you were putting on a pair of gloves a student made an off-hand comment that Dr. Emory is often referred to as being the curmudgeon of the entomology department.

You laughed and agreed with the nickname. But as if right on a cue, Asa entered the research lab to go over his own hypothesis as you were about to begin talking to the group of students about Heliconius butterflies.

You two established eye contact for a second and you took in how different his eyes looked. You could hide a million different things in those eyes. But unfortunately for him, you knew just where to look.

Asa quickly moved his eyes away from yours as if he could tell you were looking through his façade  and looked over your shoulder at the students. You smirked to yourself and began speaking.

“Let me simplify things before we really dig deep. You know how there’s always that one really pushy guy or that one overzealous girl at the bar who just won’t leave you the hell alone?”

Asa watched as students nod and smile among themselves with a tightening in his chest.

“What if you could somehow advertise or wear something that said you were off-limits and will screw up their whole night if they try anything funny and still look good while doing it?”

The group leaned forward as you pulled a glass display box forward with a smile on your face.

“Well, that’s what these little guys do best.”

You went into detail about the different colors and patterns the Heliconius butterflies sport; adding your own twist to keep the audience engaged.

Finally finishing up with the last small details of your own study you promised the group that if they come back tomorrow you would talk to them about their evolution and genetics as well as what your research has found.

The pupils began to trickle out of the bright room one after another leaving him to study you as you tucked all the display cases back into their rightful spots with care.

Something was gnawing at Asa.

He didn’t really care that the students seemed to be enjoying the labs and their work way more with you around.

Or that you got along well with other staff in the department and seemed to engage in meaningful/academically challenging conversations with just about everyone.

It was the power you held over everyone in a room without even trying.

You had them wrapped around your finger and you knew it too.

And it burned him.

He quickly scooted out of the room before you had the chance to strike up a conversation with him. He had some thinking to do.

Asa’s head seemed to be awfully full these days. Too many questions and not enough answers.

With his own collecting being put on hold, the unknown serial killer hot on his trail, and now you taking over a section of his mind - Asa was going feral.

Later on that day, he caught you leaning against the frame of an office door talking to a clearly distressed student. Nodding as she frantically explains her situation and her troubles.

Everything about your posture and what words he could make out screamed overcompensated sympathy. The emotions you were pushing never reached your eyes and Asa took note of it.

The young woman’s shoulders finally relaxed and she thanked you before she saw Asa staring at the two of and hurrying out.

“Office hours are used to help students with their academics. Not their emotional turmoil.”

“Mind your business, Bug Boy.” You scoffed at the older man before brushing past him.

He could smell your shampoo as you walked away from him without bothering to spare him another moment of your attention.

He was surprised at the amount of restraint it took for him not to grab you by the back of your shirt and make you realize your not the only one in this building with a lust for power and control.

As he stood in the hallway thinking about that interaction, something felt extremely off. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but his gut was screaming at him.

He’ll have to engage with you up closer.

He waited until the next day and knew he could find you puttering about the lab with a bunch of sad excuses for entomology majors.

Asa hovered in the doorway as your voice filtered into his ears. He took note of how you maneuvered your way around tables and counters. Obsidian eyes lingering on your hips and as you unknowingly backed up towards him as you talked.

You were in your element and he couldn’t resist interjecting into your impromptu lesson about Heliconius’ genetic pathways. He wanted to see you flustered.

“But even so, wouldn’t co-mimetic Heliconius butterflies species be generated by similar adjustments to the same pathways?” He stepped deeper into the room as you whipped around to see who had interrupted. Asa watched you falter for a second and a smile threatened to creep on to his face. It took only a second for you to regain composure.

“You would think so, but no. After removing a specific gene in all three co-mimetic pairs they had dramatically different wing coloring and pattern.” You explained as you picked up a packet of paper and rounded the table to get closer to him.

“Which supports that even vastly different pathways can lead to the same wing pattern.” You now stood completely in front of him. Even though you were a good deal shorter than him, you talked and acted like you were the biggest in the room.

“Read the paperwork. It all checks out.” You held out a gloved hand with a neat packet of paper for the older man to take. Asa felt his upper lip twitch as his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose.

He took the packet away from you as you turned back to the group and continued on like he wasn’t even there to begin with.

Asa read and reread your notes several times before grinding his teeth together.

You were right.

You were right and if there’s anything that Asa Emory hates most in the world it’s to be wrong.

He set the packet down and left the room to go get some work done lick his wounds.

It wouldn’t be later that day when everyone was getting ready to head out when he would stumble into you again. You were making a cup of coffee before leaving and smiled when you saw him enter the lounge out of the corner of your eye.

After letting him stare at your back for a good minute, you turned to face the older man. You could see a conflict running it’s course through his mind and just couldn’t help yourself.

“Something bothering you, Dr. Emory? I’m sorry but office hours are not to be used for emotional tur-“

You weren’t able to finish your snide remark before weighty hands found purchase in your waist and forcefully backed you up against the counter.

A pair of dominating lips finding yours in a matter of seconds as he pushed more of his weight up against you. A guttural sound escaped the man as you reciprocated the action.

Not only was it an act of physical intimidation but also one of pure primal need.

Your hand slid behind his coat and pressed a warm hand against the muscle hidden underneath his dress shirt. His skin tingled where ever you ran your digits and Asa found himself seeking out more of your affection.

Squeezing your hips tightly in hopes that the skin will bruise and become discolored, that you’ll be forced to remember he did this to you.

He was the first to pull away. Eyes flicking down to your lips then back up to yours. You took a moment before you fully opened them and a grin carved its way on to your glistening lips.

And in that moment Asa wanted nothing more than to fuck the smugness out of you on the entomology lounge counter.

You were driving him absolutely mad. In more ways the one.

But he doesn’t know that yet.

From that point forward, your relationship was less of a cat and mouse game and more of a dance.

You often sat in his office and went over different hypotheses and data. Enjoying the challenge each of you presented to one another.

He’s began the action of hovering directly behind you while you work. Just to remind he has you beat when it came to the physical department.

You would just brush up against him in the right places and remind him that you weren’t scared of him.

This relationship was working out quite nicely but your brain was nagging at you.

Your whole reason for being here was to understand Asa, study his habits, and then remove him from your list of problems.

Not fuck him.

But you weren’t complaining. Frankly, you enjoyed his company more than you thought you ever would.

You wondered how long you could keep this going until he found out who you were.

Quite some time you wagered.

But the sadistic killer in Asa had other ideas.

As he organizing things on his desk he caught a glimpse of your handwriting and a wave of realization washed over him.

Rummaging through the contents of his desk he pulled out the small note card that he had received with the package all those weeks ago.

Asa put the two pieces of writing together and it clicked.

You were the one.

Strange enough, Asa found that he was more angry with himself for not realizing sooner than he was at you for lying to him.

Well, this is quite the development. He now had some decisions to make.

He’s wasn’t gonna kill you. No, that would be such a waste of a raw ferocity and intelligence.

Plus, the fun had only just begun between you two.

Asa’s gonna keep this little discovery to himself. Gonna let this dance you two have going continue.

But now he’s gonna lead it and he can’t wait to watch you fall.

[jokertrap-ran]

(未定事件簿) EVENT! 「消失的黄金」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: The Lost Gold Translations (Lu Jinghe Chapter 2-04: Temporary Camp)

“Hence, we'll just have to "create opportunities" for him to carry out his next move.”

*Tears of Themis Masterlist is under construction. *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *(y/n) is your name when in direct referral; otherwise referred to as MC.

Location: Temporary Camp

After leaving the Archeological Camp, our group decided to head to a Temporary Camp nearby to rest

But between Tian Yu's sudden snatching attempt and Lu Jinghe's tough attitude, the atmosphere along the way was trying, at best. Tian Yu never spoke to Lu Jinghe again until they reached the Camp.

MC: Lu Jinghe, Tian Yu has already started to put his guard up around us so it might be difficult to conduct our secret investigation at this rate.

MC: If we attempt to clarify the issue with him now by asking him about the Gold Robbery, do you think...

We had neither a bargain chip, nor something we could hold against him right now. The only useful thing we have is the Archeological notebook, but even we don't know just how valuable it is.

Just how can we make Tian Yu confess and tell us the truth of the matter under these circumstances?

Lu Jinghe: Don't you start fretting now; the one who should be doing all the fretting now is Uncle Tian.

Lu Jinghe: The notebook he wants all so desperately is in our hands. So, he'll definitely be the one to break the ice so long as we remain silent.

Lu Jinghe: Have you already forgotten what we deduced earlier? There's most likely a time-limit to his goals here.

Lu Jinghe: That's why we can afford to wait it out, but he can't.

Lu Jinghe: Maybe his silence along the way here was just him trying to come up with an excuse to fool us.

It was then that Tian Yu walked over, as if confirming his prior speculations.

Tian Yu: I apologize, Nephew, Young miss. I lost my composure earlier. It really wasn't in my intention to be snatching things from you.

Lu Jinghe: Those words of yours have heavy implications, Uncle Tian.

Lu Jinghe: We only got a scare from what you just did, it's not like we think you're hostile or anything.

Lu Jinghe: Say, we're neither Treasure Hunters, nor are we lacking in money; what's so worth fighting that hard for on this Island?

Tian Yu only nodded in agreement upon the emphasized mention of "money" in his words.

Tian Yu: But it's true, isn't it? None of us are here for the sake of money.

Tian Yu: This uncle of yours has kept some things from you, for fear of being ridiculed.

Tian Yu: I'm sure you're aware of how I was befallen with a grave illness last year. I fell into a coma when the situation had taken a turn for the worst, and was admitted into the ICU...

Tian Yu: I was in a trance at that time when an elegantly-dressed Goddess appeared before me.

Lu Jinghe: A Goddess? Surely that's just you hallucinating?

His story was the stuff of fantasies right from the beginning, which would make people think it absurd but yet oddly, reasonable enough.

Tian Yu: I had originally thought that she was the angel that saw to the gates of Heaven as I tread between life and death.

Tian Yu: But who've thought that I'd still continue dreaming about her even after I got better, from time to time.

MC: This Goddess you speak of, she hails from Nosta Culture?

Tian Yu: Not only was she from Nosta Culture, but she was also the Goddess of Life that the ancestors here worshipped most.

Tian Yu: You youngsters might not believe it, but someone with a foot in the grave like me does.

Tian Yu: I personally feel that I was saved by the Goddess' Blessing. That's why I came up here to Nosta Island; to make a wish.

Lu Jinghe: But what does this have anything to do with that notebook?

Tian Yu: After discovering that the Goddess was from Nosta, I contacted many experts in a bid to learn about their Culture...

Tian Yu: But, everyone knew little about the Goddess of Life, only having once seen their name in a few of the Nosta texts that had been previously deciphered.

Tian Yu: That's how I was able to recognize the hieroglyphs on the notebook's cover. And that's why I was so desperate to get my hands on it.

Lu Jinghe: So those hieroglyphs represent the name of that Goddess? I see, so that's what it was...

Lu Jinghe: I would never have mistaken you if you'd told me this earlier.

Lu Jinghe: I'll entrust the notebook to you then.  Feel free to look through it as thoroughly as you like.

Lu Jinghe: Thank you, Nephew. You're a good kid. Really, I'm almost envious about your father.

Lu Jinghe: Uncle Tian, stop making fun of me already.

Lu Jinghe: Everyone in the Corporation knows that I'm only a temporary replacement. I still have the rest of my life to enjoy after my brother's done finishing up with whatever he's up to now.

Tian Yu: By the way, Nephew, was this notebook the only thing you found back in the Archeological Camp? Were there any other valuable clues?

Lu Jinghe: No. There really wasn't anything left in that Reference Room.

Tian Yu: Haa...

Lu Jinghe: You've been running about for the most part of the day, Uncle Tian. How about you rest now? Health above all else.

Lu Jinghe: Rest and I'll accompany you to find the Goddess of Life you seek tomorrow, after you've studied and deciphered the notebook thoroughly.

Tian Yu: That works too. I'm feeling a little tired now, so I'll take your advice and hunker down for the day.

Tian Yu stood up, heading towards his tent; only to stop after he had taken no more than a few steps.

Tian Yu: I heard from the Staff that helped set this place up that there are some rare flowers growing by the river of this Camp.

Lu Jinghe: Great! I'll bring down my sketchbook and sketch some later!

Tian Yu: You guys go on and have your fun then, I'll take my leave first.

I watched Tian Yu enter the tent, breathing a sigh of relief. Turning around, I saw a Lu Jinghe fishing his sketchbook out of his bag.

MC: Lu Jinghe; please tell me you aren't really planning on going down there to draw some rare flowers.

Lu Jinghe: Of course I am! Else, how am I to honor the information that he specifically deemed fit to inform me of?

He glanced at the tent behind me, as if checking to see if Tian Yu was watching us through the flaps of his tent.

Lu Jinghe: We've already taken pictures of all the content in that notebook, so it's no skin off our noses giving it to him.

Lu Jinghe: But he still wanted us out of the Camp even after having successfully gotten his hands on it. I'm afraid he has another plan up his sleeve.

MC: From the sound of what he says, I gather that he probably still doesn't trust us. He thinks that we're still withholding important information from him.

Lu Jinghe: Not to mention...if he's really so pressed for time, then he might decide to act overnight.

Lu Jinghe: Hence, we'll just have to "create opportunities" for him to carry out his next move.

We both left out backpacks in Camp, leaving light with only drawing materials and sketching tools to our name. We didn't actually go to far, settling for a bush that we found not too far off where we could see the happenings of Camp.

Sure enough, it didn't take long before we saw Tian Yu sneaking into our tents through the lens of a Telescope.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Location: Forest

MC: Is he really leaving Camp? It's getting dark out and the next Temporary Camp is a couple of hours away.

Tian Yu walked straight to the Camp's Entrance after getting out of our tent. It appeared as if he was all geared up to rush somewhere through the night. This was obviously not the end result that Lu Jinghe had wanted to see, despite how it had also been within our expectations.

After witnessing this scene, his expression turned serious and his tone icy.

Lu Jinghe: Don’t panic. First, let's go back to Camp and check our supplies and see if anything's lost.

Lu Jinghe: Tian Yu has a Tracker on him, so there's no way we'll lose him even if he wants us to.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Previous Part: (Lu Jinghe 2-03: Camp Site) | Next Part: (Lu Jinghe 2-05: Cave Ruins)

[arrantsnowdrop]

A Dangerous Game - Chapter 3 (Theseus Scamander x OC series)

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: When Victoire McKinnon, one of the wizarding world's most proficient curse-breakers, is asked to assist and protect the Ministry of Magic's Auror Department in their crusade against Grindelwald, she finds herself stuck working with the extremely annoying, exceptionally good looking Theseus Scamander.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence and death, 2,674 words

..........

“He’s just so rude, Thea, I don’t understand how anyone could be so rude,” Victoire seethed, reaching out to grab a lengthy looking novel from the bookshelf in front of her. She plopped it down on top of the other two books she was already holding.

“He’s probably unnerved,” Anthea Barrows replied reassuringly. The two had been best friends at Hogwarts, both sorted into Gryffindor, both hired by Gringotts right after graduation. Anthea left her position as a Curse-Breaker a year ago to work as a full time professor at the Uagadou School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where she taught the interpretation of ancient runes.

Victoire worked there part time (still being heavily involved in the excavations Gringotts was conducting in Japan), teaching a few classes about ancient magical civilizations.

“I literally cannot deal with him, he somehow gets on every nerve in my entire body,” Victoire admitted, eyes scanning the shelves for any other books that could be of assistance.

Earlier that day, she’d discovered a vase enchanted with a vanishing spell while investigating a case with Theseus; the vase was likely the cause of three seasoned Aurors disappearing spontaneously during an assignment, but unfortunately, Victoire had absolutely no idea how to un-vanish them. She’d apparated to Uagadou immediately after work to search their large library for any helpful material, and Anthea had volunteered to help.

“I’m sure he’s just insecure Travers called in someone for assistance,” Anthea replied calmly, grabbing a book and adding it to her own pile. “He probably would’ve been annoyed with anyone in your position, so don’t take it too personally.”

“It’s like he enjoys making me mad,” Victoire grumbled, turning to face Anthea. “He’s always got this stupid grin on his face, like he knows he’s being a prick.”

“Ooh, he’s teasing you,” Anthea joked, wiggling her eyebrows. Victoire made a gagging noise and grimaced. “Is he hot?”

“Like the fucking sun,” Victoire muttered, picking up a dark blue book and inspecting it closely.

“You always get to work with beautiful men, it simply isn’t fair to me,” Anthea stated, turning around and beginning to walk towards the checkout desk.

“This is literally the first man my age I’ve ever worked with!” Victoire laughed, following her closely.

“Still more than me,” Anthea grinned.

“I’m gonna try to ignore him, though,” Victoire said. “I won’t let him break my resolve.”

“If he’s hot that’ll be pretty much impossible,” Anthea replied honestly. “Is he tall?”

“Yes.”

“Nice hair?”

“Definitely, he’s got that like unruly yet refined look going on, very swoopy,” Victoire remarked.

“Wow, what a catch!” Anthea remarked as they dropped their books on the head librarian’s desk.

“It’s such a pity he’s an asshole,” Victoire said mournfully.

“Oh, Miss McKinnon, it’s so lovely to see you again!” the elderly head librarian said happily, opening the book on the top of the pile to sign it out.

“I’ve only been away for a few days, Mrs. Hinde,” Victoire laughed.

“A few days too many, my dear,” Mrs. Hinde replied, smiling warmly.

“Victoire’s working at the Ministry now, Mrs. Hinde,” Anthea said.

“Is that so?”

“Yea, I’m helping solve a crime, very thrilling stuff,” Victoire added. Mrs. Hinde laughed.

“I would tell you to be careful, but considering what you do for a living, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” the older woman replied.

“I don’t know, fourteen Aurors have gone missing, seems a little risky,” Victoire said honestly.

“And I’m certain you’re far more capable of handling yourself than all fourteen of them,” Mrs. Hinde said genuinely, handing her a list of the books she’d checked out.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hinde,” Victoire replied.

“You just return these whenever you get the chance, dearie, have a lovely time in London!” she called, turning to greet the next library patron.

“I love that woman,” Victoire said to Anthea, sliding the stack of books into her worn bag.

“She’s one of the nicest people here, and that’s saying something, since everyone is nice here,” Anthea reflected. Victoire chuckled and hoisted her bag on her shoulder.

“I shall hopefully return in less than two weeks,” she said in a jokingly posh tone. “Do tend to any affairs that may arise in the meantime.”

“Of course, madame,” Anthea replied in an equally prissy voice, bowing deeply. The pair burst into a fit of quiet laughter and hugged tightly.

“Please be safe, Tor,” Anthea whispered.

“I will,” Victoire reassured, stepping back and offering her friend a bright smile before apparating back to London.

~~~~~

Two days later, Victoire was back in Theseus’s office, still sitting in the maroon armchair in the corner of the room. She had put in a request for her own desk space, which thankfully was granted fairly quickly, and her many books and papers were now scattered over its surface. She’d tried to ignore the remarks Theseus made about her poor organization skills.

“The Revelio Charm can be used to reveal the true appearance of a person who has changed their appearance using magic,” Victoire said, reading out loud from one of the books she had checked out.

Theseus hummed, not looking up from the report he was reading about a recent attack in London. One of Grindelwald’s followers (who unfortunately had not been identified) had murdered five people in broad daylight, two of whom were muggles. The Ministry had been in a tizzy trying to erase the non-magical community’s memory of the event.

“Does entering a state of nonbeing count as changing one’s appearance?” Theseus inquired. Victoire looked up at him, surprised he’d been paying attention.

“I don’t know, but I’m putting it on the list of spells that could possibly work,” she replied, scribbling a few notes down on a messy-looking piece of parchment.

“The three wizards who were killed seem to have nothing in common,” he noted, setting the report aside.

“Is that a good thing?” she asked. He nodded.

“It means they aren’t targeting specific groups of people yet,” he clarified.

“Yet?” Victoire questioned warily. Theseus nodded.

“These attacks are going to get more frequent and more brutal as Grindelwald gains power. It’s only a matter of time before he starts going after different lots of us to incite more fear,” he said dryly.

“Who do you think is most at risk?” she asked softly.

“Aurors,” Theseus said, looking up at her with tired eyes. “But we’ve already been seeing that. Anyone who works with muggles or deals with muggle affairs, or who has something he could use.”

Victoire nodded, sinking further into her seat. Theseus sighed, picking up another report from a stack of unread documents.

“Gringotts has been discussing what we’ll do if Grindelwald attacks,” she said reluctantly, interrupting the silence. Theseus looked up at her, a little surprised, but gestured for her to go on.

“The vaults have a lot of objects we’ve found over the years but haven’t been able to remove curses from,” she continued. “Most of them are under ancient spells we have no written record of, and of course we’re working on undoing the enchantments, but it’s time consuming and difficult.”

Theseus nodded.

“Anyways, we had a meeting a few weeks ago, and the main point was that Grindelwald would probably be able to use many of them to his advantage if he got his hands on them.”

“What are you going to do to prevent that?” Theseus asked genuinely.

“Upping security a lot, starting in a few weeks we’re halting most expeditions and excavations and reassigning people to guard vulnerable sites or the vaults themselves,” Victoire explained.

“And if Grindelwald targets them?”

“We’re supposed to defend them or die trying.”

A pause.

“I’m sorry, it’s not really relevant,” Victoire started, but Theseus shook his head.

“No, don’t apologize, Grindelwald is affecting all of us right now and it’s better to talk about it than try to pretend it isn’t happening,” he said. Victoire nodded, a little shocked he hadn’t criticized Gringotts or curse-breaking yet.

“Are you scared?” he asked.

“About what?”

“The worst possibilities, I guess,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m not afraid of dying, if that’s what you’re getting at,” she said, biting her lip thoughtfully. “I’ve almost died many times, and I think that’s why I’m not scared of that happening anymore.”

“I’m bloody terrified of dying,” Theseus exclaimed with a laugh. Victoire grinned.

“It’s what might happen if I die that scares me,” she admitted. “I know they’re going to reassign me to guard one of the main vaults, so if I die that means Grindelwald is going to have access to a bunch of dangerous shit. I think that’s terrifying.”

“Could you destroy the items in the vault? Or would that be more dangerous than just letting them be?” Theseus questioned. Victoire shrugged.

“I have moral issues with destroying any of the artifacts, but I don’t think that’s a possibility. Those curses are strong as fuck, regular spells won’t break them,” she said, stretching her arms over her head.

“You swear a lot,” Theseus chuckled.

“Sorry,” Victoire replied, grinning bashfully and redirecting her attention to the book in front of her. Up until this point she hadn’t shared any information about her job or personal life, and she was pleasantly surprised Theseus hadn’t made fun of her.

A comfortable silence fell over the room, interrupted only occasionally by the sound of Theseus’s quill or Victoire flipping a page in her book.

Suddenly, Victoire gasped and stood up abruptly. Theseus’s head shot up, expression laced with concern.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed, eyes fixed on the book in front of her.

“Are you alright?” Theseus asked seriously. Victoire laughed and nodded, looking up at him with a wide smile on her face.

“Homenum Revelio, or the Human-presence-revealing Spell, can be used to indicate hidden bodies in the surrounding environment to the spell’s caster,” she said excitedly.

“That spell is usually used on people who have made themselves invisible somehow,” Theseus said, quite familiar with Homenum Revelio in his line of work.

“Yes, but it says here that in 1763, someone used it to reveal a person who accidentally cast the vanishing charm on themselves!” she continued, pacing around the room.

“Does it say whether or not that un-vanished the person?” Theseus asked.

“I’m assuming it didn’t, since this spell only shows where hidden things are, rather than unmasking them,” she said, “but this could help us find where the three Aurors’ presences are-”

“And that could help us figure out where to cast the actual revealing spell,” Theseus finished. “That’s genius!”

“I know!” Victoire squealed, jumping around in place. “Now we just have to figure out what spell to use after this one, and we’re basically all set!”

“How do we do that?”

“Since it seems like the event from 1763 is a recorded case, I’m going to try to figure out what they did back then,” she said, spinning around to face Theseus. Her brows knit together in confusion.

“What?” she asked. Theseus tilted his head to the side.

“What do you mean, what?” he asked.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she clarified.

“I’m not staring at you!” Theseus said defensively.

“You just were!” Victoire accused.

“I most certainly was not!”

“You most certainly were!”

“Oh, fuck off,” Theseus hissed as he looked back down at the papers on his desk, cheeks tinged with a light pink.

Victoire laughed and returned to her seat, setting the book back down on top of her desk.

~~~~~

It was two in the morning. Victoire had read through two books and over twenty ministry reports but had found no information on the case from 1763. She was thoroughly frustrated.

The original footnote referenced a newspaper article that she’d found with ease, but it offered little information and didn’t say whether or not the person was ever un-vanished.

Victoire had discovered that the wizard’s presence was detected near the place the vanishing spell had been cast, meaning the three Aurors would probably be found back at the house on Chester Street. Other than that, she had nothing.

She yawned and stood up from her chair, throwing the report she’d been reading onto the floor haphazardly. Short-Snout hooted cheerfully from where he was resting on Victoire’s bed.

“I’m glad one of us is happy,” she muttered sarcastically, walking to the kitchen for another cup of tea.

She just wanted to finish coming up with a plan as soon as possible. Then, she could get the Ministry’s approval, execute a rescue mission, and move on to the next case. There were eleven more missing Aurors that needed to be found, and though Theseus had become more tolerable to work with, she was beginning to miss her normal job.

Of course, had she not had to work with the Ministry, she’d be on vacation right now. She was still annoyed about that.

The kettle was just starting to boil when Victoire heard something bounce off her window. She jumped, and peered outside cautiously, seeing a large Grey Owl perched on her windowsill with an envelope in its beak.

She shakily opened the window, and the owl hopped inside energetically, dropping the envelope in front of her.

“You just scared the shit out of me,” she said, glaring at the bird sitting on her countertop. She turned the envelope over in her hands and rolled her eyes at the Ministry seal on the back.

She ripped open the letter and shook its contents out onto the island. There were two pieces of paper, one handwritten and the other typed. She picked up the handwritten letter and squinted at it in the dim lighting.

Miss McKinnon-

I had to go through the Ministry Records today after work to find something for a colleague, and I stumbled upon a file I thought you might find interesting. Enclosed is the official report of the 1763 Vanishing Spell mishap, I’m sure you’ll find it useful in your research.

I asked your brother for your address, since you said you wanted to try and finish your analysis of the situation tonight. I figured you’d rather have the report now than wait until tomorrow morning.

Also, sorry in advance for anything my owl knocks over. Bentley has always been a bad houseguest, and you have my permission to throw him out your window if he starts misbehaving. He’ll know to come home and won’t take personal offense.

Cordially,

Theseus Scamander

Victoire found herself grinning by the time she had finished reading Theseus’s letter. She glanced into her bedroom where Bentley and Short-Snout were hopping around on the floor. The larger owl didn’t seem to be causing any ruckus yet, so she figured she’d let him stay for a little while.

She picked up the Ministry report, eyes lighting up when she saw it revealed the end of the case.

“Fuck yes,” she whispered excitedly, grabbing a spare quill from off the counter to underline the many spells the report mentioned.

It seemed the friends of the vanished wizard had tried many different spells to bring him back, but most of them didn’t work. She groaned as she read the list of nonfunctional spells, realizing most of the research she’d done would be ineffective.

As she neared the end of the report, she was beginning to lose hope - perhaps her efforts were futile, perhaps the effects of the Vanishing Spell were truly irreversible.

She bit her lip as she began to read the last paragraph, hoping desperately for some sort of revelation:

In a final attempt to rescue their friend from the state of nonbeing, the wizards asked Professor Ptolemy Algernon, Order of Merlin (First Class) for assistance. Professor Algernon resolved the issue within a matter of seconds; after locating the victim’s presence in the room, he cast a strong Summoning Charm (using the traditional incantation followed by the victim’s name). Following a bright flash of light, the vanished wizard appeared in a fit of coughing and shouting. Medical examiners declared him to be in perfect physical condition, and though he seems undoubtedly traumatized, he is fine otherwise.

Victoire really wanted to be annoyed with her older brother for giving out her address, but all she could think about was how grateful she was for Theseus sending her the report. Finally, she had cracked the case.

~~~~~

“So you’re saying all we need to do is Accio them back into existence?” Theseus asked incredulously as he walked across the Atrium. Victoire, who was at least a foot shorter than him, was nearly jogging to keep up. They had both needed to return the reports they’d checked out, and were now heading back to Theseus’s office.

“Apparently,” she replied, a little breathy due to how fast she was walking. “Ptolemy Algernon was listed in one of the books I had at home, and it seems he used the Summoning Charm to summon people quite often.”

“I thought you couldn’t Accio living things,” Theseus said. “I’m pretty sure that was a question on my O.W.L.s.”

“Then you definitely got that question wrong, there are several records of wizards summoning farm animals during the Middle Ages,” she stated, following him into a lift.

“That would explain why I only got an Acceptable on my Charms O.W.L.,” Theseus chuckled, pressing the button for level two. Victoire grinned, stepping closer to him as several other wizards entered the lift.

“Doesn’t the Ministry want all its Aurors to be more than proficient in their spell-casting abilities?” Victoire teased, swaying slightly as the lift began its ascent.

“Luckily, I got fantastic results on my N.E.W.T.s,” he sassed, reaching out to steady her, “so as far as my employers are concerned, my qualifications are impeccable.” Victoire laughed, looking down to where his hand now rested on her upper arm. He followed her gaze, quickly returning his arm to his side. She felt her face flush, and made sure to keep her face fixed downwards.

The lift slowly came to a halt at level five, and as the doors opened, the rest of the people in the cab filed out.

“What’s going on out there?” Victoire asked as she peered into the open area outside the lift. The Department of International Cooperation seemed more crowded than usual.

“There’s a big meeting in half an hour,” Theseus said simply as the doors closed and the lift took off once again.

“I used to spend all my time there,” Victoire remarked. “Got into a lot of trouble once because one of my brothers and I broke a couch.” Theseus grinned.

“Was this back when your father was the head of the department?” he asked. She nodded.

“I have no idea why he always let us come with him to work, we were the biggest distraction,” she remarked.

“Your brother used to go on and on about all the trips he took here back when we were in Hogwarts,” Theseus added, laughing a little at the memory.

“Emrys?”

“Yea, we were in the same year,” he replied.

“Ah, so you graduated before I started my first year,” she said as the doors opened.

“And you would’ve been a few years ahead of my younger brother, Newt,” he added, stepping out of the lift and glancing back to make sure Victoire was following him.

“I remember Newt!” she said enthusiastically as she followed him down the hallway. “He tested into my Care of Magical Creatures class during my fifth year, and we all loved him.”

“He wrote me a letter about that, he was really proud he got to be in your class as a third year,” Theseus added.

“He had better grades than all of us,” she added. “I remember having to ask him for help on a number of occasions.”

“I did the same with your brother,” Theseus said, slowing his pace so he was walking next to her rather than in front of her. “Emrys is the only reason I passed Potions class my fifth year.”

“My brothers are both insanely good at brewing and understanding potions,” she nodded.

“It must run in your family, considering your aunt,” Theseus remarked as they approached the door to his office. He was referring to her Aunt Maeve, a potioneer specializing in healing potions at St. Mungo’s.

Like half of the wizards in her family, Maeve McKinnon was internationally acclaimed for her work. For centuries, the McKinnon family had a reputation as one of the most powerful and influential wizarding families in Europe, which had definitely been intimidating to think about when Victoire was younger. Luckily, her parents had done a great job of emphasizing their children that they would be proud of them no matter what, so over time, that pressure had faded. Now, McKinnon was just her last name, not some expectation to accomplish great things.

And yet, unintentionally, Victoire and her siblings had gone on to continue the so-called “McKinnon legacy.” Her oldest brother, Emrys, was an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, her other older brother, Thomas, was one of the chasers for the Kenmare Kestrels, and she had become one of the most talked-about Curse-Breakers of the century. Their names would be added to the lists of the greatest McKinnon wizards.

“I was excluded from the ‘skilled-at-potions’ genes, then,” Victoire laughed. “I wrote home too many times asking for money to buy a new cauldron. My mother nearly celebrated when I dropped the class in sixth year.”

“Were you the type to burn a hole in the bottom of your cauldron or to just blow it up somehow?” Theseus asked as he opened the door to his office, gesturing for her to go in before him.

“Explosions were my forte,” she joked as she walked past him. She plopped down into the chair behind her desk, looking up at him as he closed the door.

“Speaking of your brothers,” he said as he walked over to his desk, “I wanted to apologize for asking Emrys for your address, I just wanted you to get the report as soon as possible and didn’t know another way to contact you.”

“No, it’s fine,” she reassured him. “I was already awake and stressing about the fact I couldn’t find any information on the case, so it was a very welcome interruption.”

“I hope Bentley didn’t cause any trouble,” he said, a small smile on his face.

“No, Bentley was very well behaved. I think my own owl kept him occupied for the majority of his visit,” she said. Theseus laughed.

“So, Mr. Scamander, what do we do next?” Victoire asked.

“We write up a summary of what we’re planning to do, including all the research we’ve done to show the plan will actually work,” he said as he walked over to his desk. “Then we send it off to Travers and hope he approves it.”

“What happens if he doesn’t approve it?” Victoire asked curiously.

“He tells us we’re both idiots and we come up with another plan,” Theseus said with a small grin on his face.

“And if he does approve it?”

“We go back to the house on Chester Street and un-vanish those Aurors.”

[Tags: @littleyellowladybugg @missjockey101 @hearteyesmotherclucker @mrshazosterfield @greeneyedthief ]

A/N: It's our SECOND EVER Theseus Thursday. Look at me actually following a proper updating schedule, who would've thought we'd ever see this day? Hopefully I'll have another oneshot fic up this weekend, and then another chapter of this next week - lots of content! If you wanna request something specific please do so (LOTR, Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts, Star Wars, I'll write for most fandoms, really). Otherwise, I hope you enjoy/enjoyed reading this, and have a great day! :)

[nicklloydnow]

“These few minutes of dialogue illustrate a popular lay understanding of the science of epigenetics and trauma, specifically the idea that highly stressful events can cause changes to a person’s biology that they pass down to their children and grandchildren. Journalist James Greig recently argued that trauma is the “dominant frame for thinking about unhappiness,” and British epidemiologist George Davey Smith has called epigenetics “the currently fashionable response to any question to which you do not know the answer.” So naturally, transgenerational epigenetic inheritance of trauma has become a trendy idea, especially at the intersection of social justice and wellness circles.

(...)

What kind of information a stressed ancestor passes to their descendants is a “million-dollar question,” Rando says. He favors the view that ancestors pass on “low-bandwidth” or “coarse-grained” information — some general sense of how stressful the world is, essentially. He thinks it’s “unlikely” that ancestors pass on complex or “high-bandwidth” information like specific information about the nature of the trauma. “Certainly a lot of skepticism in the field centers around the fact that none of us have figured out how these systems work,” Rando says, and Bale agrees that “the controversy is in the biology.” “You could get changes in someone’s immune system because dad’s traumatic experience imparted some signal when sperm met egg,” she explains. “We don’t really know what that signal might be, but it could be an important signal that tells the egg something.”

(...)

But perhaps all these questions about mechanisms and effects are premature, and we need to back up to an even more fundamental question: Does transgenerational epigenetic inheritance even occur in humans? Kevin Mitchell, Associate Professor of Genetics and Neuroscience at Trinity College, Dublin, is highly doubtful. “I find that literature completely unconvincing,” he says. “I’ve looked through many of these papers to try to see if there’s anything there, any good evidence for it at all, and there isn’t.”

Mitchell describes these papers as “awful” and says they’re “poster children for questionable research practices.” He’s detailed their methodological and theoretical problems on his blog, Wiring the Brain, in accessible terms (see, for example, his posts here and here). He hasn’t cherry-picked especially bad papers, either, adding that he’s “looked at the most cited papers in the field” in both mice and humans.

One significant problem, he says, is that researchers embark without a specific hypothesis and instead “dredge for statistical significance” by conducting multiple tests, reporting on any difference between groups without correcting for this multiple testing. “It’s basically like, ‘We think something might be happening, let’s take a look. Did we get a hit? Good, we’ll publish the hits. Did we get a miss? Into the bin,’” he explains. “It really undermines the credibility of the field as a whole.”

Mitchell isn’t a lone skeptic, either. John Greally, Director of the Center for Epigenomics at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine in New York City, has called transgenerational epigenetic inheritance in humans an “attractive but poorly-founded idea” and criticized studies in the field for being “uninterpretable.” “I’d like to see us be more bold and brave and move from preliminary association studies to definitive studies,” he told Science, “and be open to the idea that there may be nothing there.”

That’s the exact conclusion Mitchell has reached. “When you look into the data, there’s nothing there at all,” he says. “Some critics look at the published data and argue that the effects aren’t so large or long-lasting as to be really meaningful. I’d go further and say there are no real effects there to discuss at all. I don’t see any convincing evidence that transgenerational epigenetic inheritance occurs in mammals, especially not in humans.””

[akinnie75]

The Tale of a No Body

Pair: Taehyung x Reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Slight Angst, Slow Burn, Fantasy, Mildly Tragic, Pinocchio!AU

Word Count: 25.3k

Summary: Would you still fall in love with Taehyung, even if he isn’t the real one?

Note: Taehyung is the FAKE one, and V is the REAL one.

There never was a normal way to describe what kind of person your father was, so it was always the most difficult question to answer whenever people ask. Even till this day, it’s complicated pinpointing exactly who he was, and the reason why you feel conscious is because you know what kind of face they’ll make when you tell them that he’s a self-acclaimed black magician who is obsessed with V from BTS.

And when you do respond that he’s simply a black magician—because mentioning his unhealthy fascination over V would be too strange to bring up in any conversation—either they’ll have no idea who he is, or they’ll call him ‘the guy who made the hoax video of reviving a dead mouse.’ He wanted to prove to everyone that black magic exists and became blinded by the possibility of fame, so he killed a mouse for the sake of returning it back to life and posting a video of it onto the internet.

What he was not expecting was the excessive amount of negative reactions. Though the experiment was a success, no one believed him. Your father was the face of mockery for weeks, scientists rejecting his beliefs without giving him a proper chance to express his side of the argument, and people tore down his video, making their analysis videos/articles explaining why your father is a hoax. Others focused on the animal rights aspect, putting him down for animal cruelty by killing the mouse for the sake of his own personal gains. There was even a petition for your father to be put to jail, but fortunately for him, there were no police actually involved with the situation.

With all of this unsupportive feedback, your father became more reclusive by hiding himself in his basement. You two have hardly ever say a word to each other for years, and it’s partly because you became too conscious being around him, especially after what the general public has made of him. You two barely speak that you can’t remember the exact day when he first asked you about V.

What you do remember is coming home one day to find him waiting for you by the front door. There were no greetings, just a ‘I hear a lot about V from this Korean music group, BTS. Do you know anything about him?’ You didn’t think too much about the question back then. Almost everyone knew who BTS is, so it’s not a surprise that your father would eventually find out about them. However, you’re not as much as a hardcore fan compared to the other girls in your school, you’ve just heard about them from your classmates.

Since then, he would ask you to research more about V by befriending fans and searching on the internet. He began printing dozens upon dozens of photos of V, pasting them to the wall and admiring him as if he is a work of art. Whenever he brought up V, it was always about how gorgeous he is. His physical appearance was perfect in your father’s standards, ogling V more than he ever did with your mother before she left him.

Had you known what your father had in store, you would’ve done anything to stop him. However, you wanted nothing to do with your father, so you never bothered talking to him unless it was about V. It wasn’t until in high school when there was something off about him. He’s always been a strange person, but that day specifically was peculiar. Despite that, it took you days to realize that there was a horrid stench protruding from the other side of the basement door, so out of curiosity, you finally decide to see what was happening downstairs. Opening the door only release the unfathomable smell that you’ve never smelled before.

Pinching your nose and taking one slow step down at a time, you were face-to-face with your father’s lifeless body decaying on the cold, cement floor. His eyes are still open, but they’ve sunk deeper into his eye sockets, and his lips as pale as his white skin, absent of blood.

The sight of your father’s body is enough to make you forget that he smelled of rotting flesh, having lost all strength in your knees and collapsing due to shock. But that wasn’t the only horrifying discovery in the basement—two wide eyes stare at you behind the shadows of the other wall. The eyes reflect a clean shine that you knew that they were no ordinary human eyes.

A deep voice croaks out from the shadows, getting louder the longer those artificial-like eyes stare at you. You cover your ears, your entire body trembling with the thought that there hides a monster. The stairs are next to you, but you’re too frozen in fear to move your feet. The voice only groans louder, the sound of the unknown monster moving closer to you.

A loud clatter rumbles, making you flinch and squeeze your eyes shut. You peek one eye open to see that the monster had been lying on a metal table and fell off in an attempt to reach out to you. Rather than a monster...it was something else. The hand that tries to reach out to you has plastic ball-joints that helps curl its fingers. It’s a lifesize body is made of vinyl, with the joints in the elbows and knees made of plastic balls to make the rotation of the limbs smoother.

Watching it stare at you with its artificial eyes, you can see its bottom lips moving up and down ever so slightly as if calling out to you. And that was the moment when you realized that your father’s years of obsession over V was for the sole purpose of replicating him into doll form. The resemblance was spot on with the exception of his body being to closer being that of a ball-joint doll.

That day, you learned that conducting black magic has its consequences: enabling black magic is the manipulation of the spiritual forces around you. Whoever bends what is originally natural in exchange for your own personal desires will receive negative karma. And that discovery you found is the result of your father’s selfish desires to prove that he truly is a black magician in exchange for bringing a doll to life—a doll who looks just like V.

------

Your shift has finally ended, so you stand up and grab your bag. It’s already late into the evening, and there aren’t that many people left in the office. Unlike the rest of the desks that are filled with Christmas-themed decorations, there isn’t much in your cubicle other than your computer and office supplies, so you never worry about forgetting anything. You walk out to the elevator to go down to the main lobby and leave.

Just after you press the down button, you hear a male voice calling your name. You turn around and see three of your coworkers, two females and one male. You’ve been working with them for a couple of years now, but you still have trouble remembering their names.

“(Y/N), were you just heading out?” The male asks.

You nod, staring down at the ground. “Y-yea, I am.”

“We were wondering if you’d like to eat dinner with us. We’re going to that Mongolian grill place just off the freeway.” One of the female asks.

“I’m okay. I have to head back home.”

“Aw, your boyfriend waiting for you?” The male asks teasingly.

“No.”

The sign above the elevator lights up and dings as it opens.

“Good work today. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

You enter the elevator with your head down as you don’t want to see their faces. Your negativity plays with you when you see their faces. You were never really good at reading expressions in the first place ever since you were a child and you were always conscious that everything you say will upset the other person. Because of that, you could never find yourself to get along with your coworkers. Confrontation was something you were never really good at.

But that isn’t the only reason. You feel anxious whenever you’re out of the house for too long, that foreboding feeling crawling up your skin as your paranoia mixes with your imagination. Restlessness overwhelms you if you don’t head straight back home after work. So no matter how much you isolate yourself, it doesn’t matter because there’s something more important than making friends.

------

You enter your home through the front door, letting a peek of the winter breeze inside before shutting it off from completely blanketing your home. You take off your shoes and coat, sighing as you felt like you were about to freeze outside. Winter is no saint, and if you had stayed longer, then you wouldn’t be able to feel your fingertips anymore. You breathe hot air into your hands and rub them together to get the blood circulating again.

“Taehyung.” You say in a light voice.

In the living room, Taehyung turns his head around when he hears your voice. He sets down his journal and pencil that he was just using then approaches you. The first thing he does is wrap his plastic-like arms around you, just as he always does as a greeting whenever you finish work. You return the hug, then he pulls himself back.

“Welcome home. How was work?”

“Fine. What were you up to just now?”

“Journal entry.”

You set your bag down and take off your shoes before walking to the living room. You sit on your knees in front of the coffee table as you flip through Taehyung’s journal. The latest entry is just like any other—he was looking through the window and watching people and animals passing through the neighborhood. He wrote all the people that he saw, including the old woman who walks her five dogs every morning and that one kid who’s always ditching class to be by himself.

In the last paragraph, Taehyung says that he came across a stray cat in the backyard. He said that he tried playing with it, thinking that it’d be like those playful cat videos. However, the cat ended up being frightened by him and scratched him.

“A cat scratched you? Where?”

Taehyung rolls up his sleeve and reveals numerous scars all over his forearm. He points to the newest scratch mark, three thin lines from his elbow down to this wrist. You take him by the hand, stroking your index and middle finger down the mark as you stare at his past scars.

“I need to replace your arm soon. It’s starting to wear out.”

Taehyung nods, wrapping his scarred hand over his other arm. Unlike the first arm, this one is completely wooden, not the same one that your father previously gave him. You look up at his crystal eyes, noticing some smudges and dusk in it. You grab cotton cloth from nearby and begin wiping the, and he doesn’t blink at all when you clean them.

“How can you see with your eyes that dirty? You’re lucky there are artificial limbs nowadays to replace, but what am I going to do when you lose an eye?” You scold him with a soft voice. “How come you never clean your own eyes?”

Taehyung’s expression doesn’t change—just the same stoic expression he’s always had since the day you found him. The only things that ever move are his eyes when he’s observing something or his mouth moving up and down when he speaks.

“Because I like it when you do it.”

You heave a sigh and smile at his innocence. “I know, but you have to learn how to take care of yourself sometimes too. There are going to be times when I’m not there for you.”

He doesn’t say anything, only staring blankly at the carpet. Because his face can’t make expressions, you can never read what he’s thinking. But you do know enough about Taehyung to somewhat have an idea of what he might be thinking about.

To make the mood lighter, you decide to change the subject. “Did you let the cat inside?”

He nods. “I tried, but it left when it saw me.”

“That’s too bad.”

It’s been eight years since your father created Taehyung. Shortly after finding him, you held a small funeral. A few number of people on the internet made fun of his death—saying that he probably killed himself because he thought he could revive himself while others say that he deserves it for being an insane person.

However, that was the least of your worries because you had Taehyung to worry about. In the beginning, you were terrified of him because you didn’t know what he was capable of, whether or not your father created him to become a destructor or a peacemaker. You quickly learn that he’s tame as he didn’t even know how to control his limbs or how to speak any language. You had to teach everything to him from scratch, and luckily he was a fast learner. He caught on to things rather quickly, and he was interested in learning.

For most of his existence, Taehyung has been holed up into your house. You don’t know how the public would react if they saw a life-size doll that looks just like V wandering, so you warned him to never go outside. You were his source of outside information, but when you were out of the house, the television and books would be his teachers. Taehyung was always hungry to learn, but he tried his hardest to keep it within the barriers of your rules. You feel bad for restricting him of his own freedom, but you think that it’s for the better—for Taehyung and for the world. At least, for now.

------

After washing up for the night, you head to your bedroom to find Taehyung sitting by the edge of your bed reading a book. You sit next to him, looking over his shoulder to find him reading one of his favorite books, Pinocchio.

“Again?”

He nods his head slightly. “Yea, I really like the story.”

You weren’t familiar with the story of Pinocchio prior to Taehyung. When he was still just learning to speak, you went to the bookstore and bought classic fairytale books for him to practice reading. Though he’s read all of the fairytales at this point, it’s always been the tale of the boy puppet that Taehyung can’t help but bring himself to reread.

You don’t need to ask why Taehyung is so drawn to the story; it’s about a puppet who will become a real boy if he proves himself to be a kind and unselfish person. Though Taehyung has never directly stated that he wants to become a human, you can somewhat tell based on how much he reads the book. He’s always interested in learning about humans and their culture, so it’s no wonder that he wants to join them too.

“Hey, Taehyung,” you start off. “I was able to get a few days off of work a few days after Christmas. Maybe we can do something.”

He rotates his head to you, staring his lifeless eyes into yours. “Really?”

“Yup, it’s to make up for not being able to spend that much time with you last Christmas. You must’ve been lonely while I was working.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t lonely because I know you work hard for both of us...and that no matter how long you’re gone, you’ll always come back.”

Taehyung leans over and rests his head on your shoulder, his hair made of synthetic fiber tickling your cheek. His glossy eyes stare at his lap, quietly contemplating something to himself. Taehyung has almost never retaliated against you before, listening to everything you tell him to do. It almost feels as though he puts 100% of his trust on you, but you don’t particularly mind it.

“I know you say that you don’t mind, but I still want to spend Christmas with you. I wanted to see you open your present last year, but couldn’t. Now that I took a few days off, I get to see your reaction.”

“But...I can’t change facial expressions. You’ll just be disappointed.” He raises his head up from your shoulder, waiting for you to respond.

“Well, if you can’t convey it through your face, then you can always tell me.”

“Okay, I’ll try my best.”

You yawn, seeing as it’s almost your curfew. You stretch your arms outward, allowing your exhaustion to take ahold of your body.

“Taehyung, tell me a story.”

“Which one do you want to hear?”

You contemplate for a couple of seconds, tapping your index finger on your cheek. “How about Pinocchio?”

“But I always tell you that one. Don’t you get tired of it?”

“I’ll get tired of it when you do.” You grin.

“...Okay.”

You settle into bed, pulling the blanket over you as Taehyung closes the book. He’s read Pinocchio countless of times that he knows it like the back of his hand. He waits for you to get comfortable before he begins.

“Once upon a time, there was a woodworker who’s always wanted a son, so he made a marionette that resembled a young boy. He named that puppet Pinocchio. That night, a young fairy granted his wish and brought the marionette to life. However, Pinocchio did not turn completely human, as the fairy said that he would have to prove himself to be truthful and unselfish in order to become a real boy. But Pinocchio easily fell for tricks, and whenever he got in trouble, he would lie. Every time he lied, his nose would grow longer.”

Taehyung can see that you’re already beginning to fall asleep. Still, he continues the story.

“No matter how hard Pinocchio wanted to become a real boy...he would easily fall into temptations. He was a young boy who wanted to know the world as it was, and the world that persuaded him was not a forgiving one.”

As you fall deeper into your slumber, Taehyung brushes your hair from your forehead, gazing at your tranquil expression.

“But with the help of his guardian, the woodworker was able to guide him the right away by never shaming him and still held his hand until he was on the right path, and in return, Pinocchio cared for his father figure. So much so that he was even willing to sacrifice himself for him.”

Taehyung caresses your cheek with his artificial hand. He feels the pressure when he touches your cheek, but he doesn’t know how your skin feels like. With his fake hands, he can’t feel temperature, materials, or pain. No matter how many times he tries touching your skin, it all feels like nothing.

Seeing as you’ve fallen asleep rather quickly, Taehyung assumes that it was another tiring day at work. You talk a lot about working, but he doesn’t know exactly what ‘work’ is. Whatever ‘work’ means, he doesn’t like it because you always return home looking exhausted. If he could, he would do anything to make sure that you’d never have to work again.

Once you’re in a deep sleep, Taehyung gets off of the bed and walks to the windowsill. He slides his fingers down the glass as he stares at the full moon, spending yet another eight hours without you.

------

You’re wandering alone in the middle of an abyss. You see nothing but black with the exception of your reflection on the floor. With nothing else to do, you proceed to walk forward, thinking that walking will help you find your way out of the dark void. Though your legs move, the setting that surrounds you doesn’t, making it feel as though you’re not moving an inch.

After walking for quite a while, you finally notice something in the distance. You can’t make sense of it yet, but once you moved closer, you realized that it’s a figure. Though you tell yourself to run towards it, you only continue to walk in a slow pace., but it didn’t feel like it took you a long time to get to the figure.

Upon closer inspection, you realize that it’s Taehyung, curled up into a fetal position and burying his face in his knees. Taehyung lets out haunting cries that echo throughout the empty space. You reach out for him, but before you do, Taehyung suddenly stops crying.

“...(Y/N)...why do you lock me up in your home?”

You open your mouth, but no matter how hard you try, your voice doesn’t come out. You touch your throat, using all your might to scream. With his face still hidden, he rolls up his sleeves to reveal his wooden arm and his scarred arm.

“Is it because you think I’ll get hurt like last time?”

Now your body has become stiff to the point where you can’t move. You try to lift up your hand, but even you can’t do that.

“Or...are you afraid that everyone will see me as a monster?”

You try to shake your head, but your head doesn’t move.

“You think that everyone will see me as a monster, just like how you saw me as one, right? Like that night when you found me with your father’s dead, cold body.”

You can feel a surge of tears welling up in your eyes, your heart pounding with fear as you so desperately want to deny those accusations. However, no matter how much you want to move, you can’t.

Taehyung gets up with his head still facing down. He drags his feet to you until he’s inches away from you.

“But I think what you’re afraid of the most is being called a freak…”

“Just.”

“Like.”

“Your.”

“Father.”

Taehyung lifts his head up to reveal his empty eye sockets. They’re just as dark as the void around you, but his sockets felt emptier. He croaks as you stare deeply into the absences of his eyes, letting the black world soil you with doubt, paranoia, and terror.

------

Your eyelids shoot open, waking up in the middle of the night drenched in cold sweat. Your room is dark with the exception of two glaring eyes staring at you from the side of the bed. It’s Taehyung, sitting on the carpet as he observes you while you slept. Waking up to someone staring at them would’ve definitely scared anyone, but you know that Taehyung doesn’t have any malicious intentions; he’s just curious about how you sleep.

“Did I wake you up?” He asks.

You sit up, turning on the lamp next to your nightstand. Taehyung doesn’t flinch at all when you turn on the light.

“No,” you rub your eyes and wipe your forehead with your forearm. “What are you doing on the floor?”

“I didn’t want to take up the space on your bed.”

You sigh as you smile, scooting to the opposite end of your bed to give Taehyung space to sit. You pat the empty spot to grant Taehyung the permission to take it. Taehyung stares at it blankly before accepting your offer. He sits with his back straight and legs criss-crossed.

“Your face is wet again.”

You wipe the sweat from your chin. “Oh, I just had another nightmare.”

“A nightmare? But you said that those are scary dreams. Why do you keep having them if they’re scary?”

“Dreaming...is not easy. Sometimes you dream about things you think a lot about or you have in the back of your mind. Some of these thoughts are hard to get rid of so they haunt you in your dreams where it’s most vulnerable.”

“That...does sound scary. I don’t understand why humans have dreams.”

Because Taehyung is literally a soul stuck in a lifesize body of a doll, he doesn’t need to sleep, eat, or rest. He can barely close his eyes, so of course it wouldn’t make sense why he doesn’t know what it’s like to dream.

“To be honest, me too…” You mumble.

“But...if I did dream, I’d like to only dream about you.”

Hearing Taehyung saying it with such an innocent tone makes you forget about your nightmare. You can’t understand why you had that dream in the first place. Of course you were scared of him in the beginning because you had no idea what your father created, but now you know Taehyung won’t even hurt a fly.

“You wouldn’t want to. You see me every day already, so definitely seeing me every night too is going only make you tired of me that you’d want to leave.” You chuckle.

Taehyung doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he takes his hand and brushes a lock of your hair in between his fingers. One strand gets tangled with the joint of his index finger, but he was able to smoothly pull it off.

“I’d only leave when you don’t want me anymore.”

He said it like he meant it, which broke your heart. You pull him in for a hug, making sure that there will never be a day where you’ll abandon him.

“I’d never leave you. The day I saw you in that basement...I knew that I was never supposed to leave your side.”

Taehyung doesn’t know how to process your words. In a way, it sounded like you were destined to be with him for the rest of your life, but Taehyung doesn’t particularly dislike that idea. He hugs you in return, wishing he could smile.

------

It’s another morning like any other. You wake up, prep yourself in the bathroom, and get dressed for work today. While preparing a small breakfast for yourself, Taehyung is in the living room watching TV. Though Taehyung is glued to the screen, you’re too focused on waiting for your waffles to pop out of the toaster. That’s when you hear something that captures your attention.

“International K-Pop group, BTS, has just landed safely and are currently exiting the airport today at 9 A.M., December 23rd, 20XX. Hundreds of fans gather around the airport, holding their hands and almost what looks to be a clear path for the boys, with a few of them holding banners with purple hearts. Even after five years after their last world tour, their fans are still dedicated, which is remarkable.”

You turn your direction to the television, watching the seven Korean musicians, security, and their managers pace their way out of the airport. Rather than be screaming fans, they were surprisingly polite and all shouted ‘welcome BTS.’ The members are all wearing bucket hats, sunglasses, and face masks. They don’t acknowledge the fans, at most simple waves to the crowd. But it’s understandable since they must be jet lagged.

Now drawn to the screen, you lean on the side of the couch that Taehyung is sitting on and watch as the camera pans to each individual member. Due to your father’s obsession with V, you had to become his spy and learn about the band. He knew that it was bizarre for a forty-something-year-old to be oddly attracted to a man who’s twenty years younger than him, so he had you gather all the information because it was more acceptable for someone your age to be interested in him. Because of that, you’re practically familiar with all of the members, even after eight years of ending your endeavors into their world.

Out of all the members, V is the one who stands out the most. While they still look just as young as they were during their prime years, V definitely is the one who looks stunning with his messy hair and tucked in collar shirt with slacks. Comparing V with Taehyung, your father was spot on with V’s features eight years ago. You look at Taehyung for any change of mood when the camera cut to V, but he was staring at the screen like it was any other mediocre thing. But then, it isn’t like Taehyung can change his facial expressions.

“The news reporter said that they’ll be staying in the city next to us.”

“Oh really?”

You look at Taehyung to see if he looks the slightest bit interested in wanting to see them in person, but you can’t tell by his stoic expression. Judging by how much he’s staring at V, he must have some interest in meeting him.

“They’re going to be here during Christmas before performing at the stadium.”

“Oh...that’s really sad. They won’t get to spend time with their family. Speaking of Christmas, today is my last day, so I’ll be able to spend Christmas Eve with you too. We should stay up until midnight!”

Judging by Taehyung’s lack of words, he might be excited for it as well. Usually when he speaks, it’s about how he doesn’t want to bother you with anything, so perhaps he’s just as thrilled for it like you. You look forward to the end of your shift and return home to Taehyung.

------

You wanted to buy a real tree for Christmas, but your budget didn’t allow you to, so you had to settle with the fake tree from last year, not that you mind it particularly. Taehyung helps you decorate the tree with ornaments that you kept in the back of the closet just for this time of year.

You aren’t much of the type to cover your entire house with holiday decorations, but you do enjoy Christmas music. You have a playlist of winter songs on your phone, letting the musical notes dance around the living room. The Christmas tree is shorter than you, so it didn’t take long to hang the ornaments. You and Taehyung sit on the floor, mesmerized by the artificial plant.

“Looks the same as last year’s, huh?” You ask Taehyung.

“Yea...but I like it like this. We only get to see it for a week.”

You nod your head. You thought about how strange it is to make the effort of putting up a tree only for it to be taken down a few days later.

“I’m glad we put up the tree on Christmas Eve. It kept us busy at least.”

Taehyung nods his head. He’s staring blankly at the carpet again, meaning that he’s thinking about something.

“And then in a few more days, isn’t it Mr. V’s birthday?”

It was strange for him to suddenly bring up V. Was it because of the news report yesterday morning?

“Yea...it is. I’m surprised you remember.”

“...It’s not that hard to remember his birthday. He’s the model your father used to make me, and his birthday is after my favorite holiday.”

Your smile fades away, recalling that fateful day. “Right…”

Because Taehyung brought up your father out of the blue, the mood has become serious. Neither of you say a word, only the jolly music that plays in the background.

“I wonder what kind of person Mr. V is.”

You only knew of V whenever he was in front of the camera. You didn’t know who he truly was behind the lenses or when he wasn’t being constantly watched. The V that you knew was very kind toward everyone and had a creative mindset. He always thought differently from the rest of the members, and he had that aura whenever he was on stage that captivated everyone. Whenever he was off-stage, he was very bubbly and chatty. For a time, even you were attracted to his charisma.

One thing about V you notice is how he is very good at expressing his emotions. If he was sad, then he would rarely smile and not a word would come out of his mouth. When he was happy, he’d be the liveliest person in the room. On the other hand, Taehyung is very calm. He’s limited in making expressions because his face isn’t made of muscles. But you don’t want to compare them because they each are their own person, even if Taehyun is a doll.

The clock on the wall finally hits midnight. Thinking that this is a good opportunity to change the subject, you crawl to the coffee table and take out the present that you kept hidden under the table. It’s in the shape of a rectangle, and it’s a little bigger than your hand. It’s also wrapped in purple wrapping paper with a red bow on top. Taehyung watches you move back to him, extending the small present to him.

“Merry Christmas, Taehyung!!” You exclaim.

Taehyung takes the present from you. It looks so pretty that he doesn’t want to tear it, especially the glitter sprinkled on the bow. But since his present is under the paper, he tears it, but carefully enough so that it doesn’t create that big of a mess. It’s a white box, and when he takes off the top, it’s a pair of snow gloves.

“I hope you like them.”

“I’m thankful, but I can’t feel the cold with my body. So why…?”

“They’re not only for the cold,” you take Taehyung by the hand. “You must be tired of being cooped up here...so I thought that you should go out a little to get fresh air.”

“Outside?”

You nod. “At least to the backyard or front yard. I’m sure people are going to give you a weird look when they see your hands.”

Your father gave each joint in the fingers a ball to make it easier for Taehyung to grip onto things with his hands, but it made it obvious that he isn’t human. Each part of the finger has a small gap in between, which makes it easy to see the ball-joints.

“You can blend in with other people when you wear these gloves. That way, you can go out whenever you want.”

You thought long and hard when considering to let him go out and explore the world. You still don’t think he’s ready to face the outdoors, or at least it’s better that you help Taehyung take each step before he can walk on his own. There would be no reason for him to be alive when all you do is lock him up in your home.

You put the gloves on his right hand, then you open his palm to press your hand onto it. You flat your hand out and align your fingers with his, realizing just now how large his hand is. You smile while tilting your head to the side.

“See? Now we don’t look all that different, do we?”

Taehyung looks at your hand, then his. He never knew that wearing a glove could make his hands look so...normal. He folds his fingers in, intertwining it with yours.

“Thank you.” If he could, then he would smile to show how grateful he is for this wonderful gift.

You continue to grin to let him know that you understand. You look out the window to see that many of the lights in the neighborhood are turned off. It might be a rash decision, but you want to do this just once.

“Wanna build a snowman?”

“What?”

“Let’s do it. I’ll go get my coat on and build one.”

------

Unfortunately, your backyard is elevated in a way where there is no flat ground for you two to have a snowman to stand, so the front yard is your only option. Luckily, everyone is asleep around this time, but even if people are awake, it wouldn’t be that completely strange for two people to be building a snowman on Christmas. Besides, Taehyung will be covered up in winter clothes so anyone passing by will think he’s a human.

You head out first, and Taehyung stands right by the door frame, a bit nervous to step outside. He holds onto the frame, staring at the snow as he debates on whether or not he should go outside.

You extend your hand out to him. “It’s alright! You can do it.”

Taehyung takes your hand, and you hold onto him tightly. He extends one leg first, his foot pressing down on the white puffs. He flinches when his foot fell through the snow, not expecting snow to be this fragile. He takes his other foot out and it also falls into the same fate as the other foot after stomping on the flakes.

You walk backwards, both hands holding onto his as you guide him out of the front porch. At first, Taehyung dragged his feet in the snow, letting it pile up in front of him before he catches note of you lifting your feet out of the snow to move. You giggle witnessing his first experience in the snow, resembling that of a child and their first snow.

Once he gets used to standing on his own, you get down on your knees and take a handful of snow. With both hands, you mold it into the shape of a sphere. Taehyung watches, presumably with a look of awe as he watches what was at first a clump of snow turned into a perfect circle.

“Let’s start with a really small one first, then we’ll make a bigger one.”

Taehyung nods his head.

After an hour, you two were able to build two large snowmen, though it was you who did most of the work. Taehyung tried to make snowballs, but he was having difficulties controlling his hands while wearing gloves. He isn’t used to using his hands with something wrapped around it, so you told him to just gather snow for you to build the snowmen.

Once that’s done, you two stand back to appreciate the work that was put into it. Although the snowmen weren’t in a perfect sphere shape, you were proud of both yourself and Taehyung. You haven’t built a snowmen in many years, so it was fun to do it again.

You drop to the ground, and not knowing what else to do, Taehyung does the same. You exhale, letting the warm fog form around your mouth. Taehyung gazes at the fog, wondering how you’re able to do it when he can’t. He also notices how your face changed colors—your nose and cheeks turning as red as cherries.

“So?” You turn to Taehyung. “How’s it like being outside again?”

He looks down, using his index finger to draw three circles, attempting to draw the snowmen. “I feel the same. The only difference is that there are no walls.”

You thought he’d be more excited about it, especially after refusing to let him out since the incident a few years back. However, his tone is still the same as any other day. You think about the dream you had a few nights ago. It pushed you to let him go out for once, and you thought he was feeling suffocated, but you were wrong.

You let out a disappointed chuckle, worrying for nothing. “I’m surprised you’re so calm. I thought you’d be jumping with joy.”

“It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it. I felt the same because you’re with me, and I’m always happy when I’m with you.”

You blush slightly. Everything Taehyung says or does is always for you, as if his entire world revolves around you. While it is a bit obsessive, you don’t hate it. You’ve spent all your life being abandoned and neglected—your mother leaving, your classmates ignoring you, and your father dying. Sometimes it feels nice to have that relationship where you can rely on Taehyung, and he can rely on you.

You rest your head on his shoulder, smiling as you close your eyes. “Taehyung, I’m glad you’re with me. I want to remember this moment forever.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, but it wasn’t as if you were expecting him to say anything. Instead, he snuggles his face into your shoulder. You make eye contact with Taehyung, and you notice snowflakes in his glass eyes. You imagine that it must be annoying having frozen water stuck in your eyes, but Taehyung doesn’t care. Amidst the snow in his eyes is you—the one and only thing that matters the most to him.

“Getting to spend time with you is already a gift…(Y/N)...I’m really happy right now, and I’m really happy that when I woke up in this world, you became the first person I saw, my first teacher, my first caretaker...and my first friend.” If he could, Taehyung would be smiling and crying tears of joy.

For a while, it felt like time stopped for you two. Taehyung gently holds onto the sleeve of your coat, wanting to hug you. While you two sit silently next to each other, it feels like no one else existed in each other’s world, just you two. You feel your heart race whenever Taehyung is honest about his feelings. Whenever he speaks, you know that you can trust him. How can you ever think of Taehyung as a monster? You’re afraid of what people will think of Taehyung, but no matter what, you’ll never leave him.

------

While you’re asleep, Taehyung keeps staring at the snowmen from your bedroom window. Unfortunately it started to snow, so you and Taehyung had to return inside. Soon after that, you got ready for bed, and Taehyung has been staring out the window since. He keeps replaying the time he spent making the snowman with you, having that fluttering feeling when he was with you.

Taehyung keeps looking down at his imperfect hands, one being wooden and the other being scar-filled. The size of the wooden hand is smaller than the other, but the fingers are longer on the wooden one. He folds his hands together, trying to imitate when he holds your hand. He always thinks about how you hold his hand so casually when you have many opportunities to hold normal hands. It makes him happy that you always choose him over anyone else.

When he looks back at the snowmen, he noticed that one of them has toppled over due to the strong wind. He’s sadden to see one of them has fallen over, thinking about how all that hard work is going to waste. It’s not yet the time for people to wake up yet, and you did mention that if he were to wear enough clothing, he can hide his body. He puts on his coat, scarf, snow pants, and boots. Just as he was about to head out, he returns to grab his new pair of gloves.

Taehyung scoops piles of snow in his hands, trying to do what you did and make the snow into a ball. But whenever he tries, one side would be bigger than the other side. The ball that you created earlier has become a lumpy oval. He doesn’t know any other way to solve this other than matting it with more snow.

He’s worried about taking too much time trying to fix the snowmen, otherwise other people will wake up to find him. Either that, or you will spot him outside and hate him forever for going out without your permission. To shorten the time to make it, he decides to grab more snow. He has his hands dig deeper until it hits the ground. He tries his hardest to pick up the snow, but his vinyl hand gives in to the weight, bending his hand backwards at an inhumane angle. Despite that, he doesn’t feel pain whatsoever; he didn’t even realize his hand bent backwards at first.

Taehyung drops the snow to look at his hand. He takes off his glove and rolls up his sleeve to find that he ripped an opening in his wrist right below the palm. He traces the hole, seeing how his arm is aging due to the excessive amount of times he’s been using this arm. Pretty soon, he has to tell you that he needs another arm. But, how is he going to tell you that he made this hole because he snuck out during the middle of the night? He’s afraid that you’re going to get upset, and he doesn’t want to bother you anymore about his accidents. For now, he rolls his sleeve back up and decides to keep it a secret.

That’s when he hears a voice call out. He tilts his head up, shocked to see a man standing in front of him. He’s wearing a long, tan trench coat and circular glasse. His hands are in his pockets, protecting them from the cold. Taehyung has nothing to say to this man because he’s never spoken to another human before, but it’s not only that. This man looks just like Taehyung...or rather, Taehyung looks just like this man.

------

It’s nearly three in the morning, and you hear quick stomps in the hallway. You raise your head up, eyelids still heavy with sleepiness. The footsteps gets louder until it reaches to your bedroom. You manage to open one eye to see Taehyung standing in the middle of your room. It’s too dark for you to exactly make out the details of Taehyung, but you know that it’s him based on the outline of his body.

“Taehyung? What’s wrong?”

Taehyung doesn’t respond immediately. You thought that he didn’t hear you the first time, but he was just trying to collect his thoughts. You sit up, but when you do, Taehyung scurries to you, putting one hand on your knee and the other on your back as he kneels down.

“I’m so sorry for waking you up.”

“What? No, it’s fine. You seemed like you were just doing something. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. You should go back to sleep.”

Taehyung gently settles his hand on your stomach and slowly pushes you down so you can return to your slumber. If you were fully awake, then you would’ve continued to ask him more questions, but you were too tired to pursue. You don’t pay too much attention to this, so you head to sleep.

When you close your eyes, you didn’t think too much about how nearly for the entire night, Taehyung was holding your hand. You never noticed that Taehyung is missing one glove.

------

You hear the sound of your doorbell ringing. You groan, checking the time as you don’t see the reason for someone to be visiting you on Christmas day. When you sit up, Taehyung is nowhere to be found in your bedroom. You thought that he would be getting the door, but the bell keeps ringing. You slide off of bed, yawning as you walk down the halls and to the door.

When you open the door, your heart nearly stops beating at the surprise. You wipe your eyes, making sure that who you’re looking at isn’t a hallucination. The person standing before you is none other than V. Your jaw drops, and seeing as that is a common reaction that V has seen a dozen times before, he lets out a radiating smile.

“Good morning. Do you speak Korean?” Taehyung asks with a Korean accent.

You’re too shocked to let out a word, so instead you shake your head. He was already expecting you to answer with a ‘no,’ but he wanted to give it a try. He extends his hand out for a handshake.

“Hi, I’m V from BTS. Nice to meet you.”

You shake his hand, your eyes not once off of this man’s face. You can’t believe that he’s standing in front of you. You haven’t even shaken a real hand in so long that you almost forgot what it feels like. Just like Taehyung’s hand, V’s hand is nearly twice as big as your hand, nearly devouring yours when greeting you.

You finally break out of your trance, realizing that this is no dream. “Excuse me. Sorry for my rude behavior. My name is (Y/N). It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice meeting you, (Y/N). Mind if I come in?”

Your eyelashes flutter as you blink profusely. You thought you didn’t hear that right the first time. Why would he feel the need to come inside? Why is he here during Christmas in the first place? You have no idea what’s going on and what his purpose is for being here.

“I’m sorry, but I just woke up. If you need anything, then you can tell me here.”

He continues to smile with an underlying meaning, and it’s unnerving. “Okay. Do you have other people living here too?”

‘Other people?’ You immediately thought of Taehyung. Now you’re worried that he spotted you and Taehyung out last night playing in the snow. Internally, you beat yourself up because you might’ve dragged Taehyung into potential danger. But you still don’t understand why V would be out so late, especially since he’s a celebrity with a tight schedule.

Suddenly, you feel nauseated the longer you stay with V. Being with him brings back bad memories that you don’t want to remember, such as the time when you found your father’s dead body.

“No, it’s just me.” You let the lie flow right out of your mouth.

But Taehyung is sharper than that. He doesn’t need to get familiar with you to know that you’re lying.

“Last night there was a person here. He dropped this.”

Your eyes widen once you saw what he had hidden in his pocket. It’s one side of the glove that you bought for Taehyung. You look up at V with your eyes asking how he got ahold of it. Did he drop while you two were returning back inside?

You take the glove from his hand, crossing your arms and avoiding eye contact as you feel defensive. In your mind, you’re in panic mode, not sure how to get rid of V, or even where Taehyung is at.

“I-it’s just me. You must be mistaken. Now please, do you mind leaving me alone? I’m sorry.”

“I know someone lives there too. I would like to meet him and talk to him,” He beams. “Merry Christmas.”

V walks off, and you close the door behind him, questioning what just happened. Immediately, you thought of looking for Taehyung and ask him what happened. He was behaving strange last night, and it wasn’t just your imagination.

“Taehyung? Where are you?”

You continue to call out his name, and eventually, you find him at the end of the hall, hiding in one of the spare rooms. He’s peeking his head out, and you’re unsure if he’s trying to hide in fear that you’re furious with him or if he was trying to hide from V.

You walk toward Taehyung at a leisurely pace, tilting the upper half of your body to the side while smiling to let him know that you’re not upset. He’s inside the room that you set up for him a few years back. You thought that Taehyung would want his privacy, but after a few nights, he eventually stopped going to his room. He once said that it was because he didn’t feel comfortable at night without you.

“Hey, Taehyung. What are you doing in there?”

Feeling a bit more secure, Taehyung steps out of his room, but his head is still pointing down with guilt. Once you’re close enough, you cup his cheek and raise it high enough for you to look at him in the eyes. However, he averts his eyes away from you, giving in to the shame to brought upon you.

“I’m sorry...I went out without your permission when you were asleep. I thought it was safe to go out because it was only the front yard but…”

“Hey, I’m not mad at you. If anything, I’m relieved that you’re okay.”

Taehyung was bound to be spotted by another person, especially since you brought him out. Though you were not expecting that other person to be V, you knew that this day would come eventually. You remove your hand from his cheek and take him by his wooden hand. You place the glove in his palm.

“Don’t worry about it. I told that guy to leave, so hopefully he won’t come back anymore. Let’s go make some breakfast. After that, let’s plan what we want to do today.”

You turn around and head to the opposite end of the hall. When you notice that Taehyung isn’t following you, you twirl around and wait for him.

“That man...he’s really Mr. V, isn’t he?” Taehyung clenches onto his glove.

You can’t imagine what’s going through his mind right now, meeting face-to-face with the man responsible for his existence. You want to know what happened and if there were any words exchanged, but you don’t want to pester him about it as he still might be processing it. Besides, it’s Christmas, and you don’t want it to be about V, but about you and Taehyung.

You march right for Taehyung and take him by the hand, dragging him with you to the kitchen. “It doesn’t matter if it really was him or not. Let’s go make breakfast after I brush my teeth.”

------

You thought that V would leave after you had him to leave, but he hasn’t left your front yard since this morning. For a celebrity, he definitely has a lot of time to be loitering around your lawn. Every time you look out the window, V would perk up a smile and wave. You try to forget about him since he hasn’t rung your doorbell since the morning, but you can’t when all he does is stare.

Once again, V’s standing by the sidewalk, hands in his pocket. By this point he should be freezing because he’s been standing there for hours. You initially wanted him to leave because he was disturbing your peace, but now you’re concerned that he’ll catch a cold if you don’t somehow get him to leave.

Taehyung is sitting in the living room, writing another journal entry as he stares at you staring at V. You’ve been looking at him longer than you normally have, which makes Taehyung stop writing and observe you with curious eyes.

“Is Mr. V still out there?”

“Yea...I wonder why he won’t leave. He’s going to get sick.”

“I’m...sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Taehyung. You don’t have to apologize.”

One habit that Taehyung has garnered is his excessive need to apologize whenever he feels like he’s done something wrong to you. He’s afraid of you being disappointed in him, though you’ve never gotten upset at him before. You’ve done so much for him, so it’s no wonder that he has those kinds of worries.

“I think Mr. V wants to talk to me...Maybe that’s why he won’t leave.”

How much does V know about Taehyung being a doll? Does he even know that he’s a doll? Whatever the amount of information he has, you don’t want him talking to Taehyung. Your instincts tell you that you should protect Taehyung at all costs.

You decide to make a move. If you don’t do anything, then V will be standing there stubbornly until you let him talk to Taehyung. You pace to your bedroom and put on your winter clothes, followed by you putting on your boots by the front door.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to have a small chat with him.”

Taehyung stands up to stop you, but you raise your hand to tell him to stop. You let him know that everything will be alright and that you’ll only talk to him. You open the front door, closing it behind you before V gets a chance to get a peek inside.

“Good evening!” V exclaims.

He approaches you, hands still in pocket. You can see him shivering and his teeth clattering upon closer inspection. You start pitying him for leaving him out here alone to freeze.

“What are you still doing out here? I don’t mean to be rude, but don’t you have other things to worry about?”

“My manager said that we can do anything we want on Christmas.”

“Don’t you want to spend time with your friends?”

V smiles, staring into the distance while lost in his own thoughts. “...It’s okay. I want to know you better and become my friend.”

He extends his hand out for another handshake and once again, you take it. His hand is so cold that you feel like your hand could get frostbite if you held his hand any longer.

“Thanks...but I think it’s better if you go back. What if other people start to get suspicious about you standing here all day?”

“Suspicious?” He tilts his head, puzzled.

Assuming that he doesn’t know what ‘suspicious’ means, you try to explain. “People will think you’re a bad guy…”

He shakes his head. “I’m not a bad person. I want to talk to you and another person inside your house. I met him last night.”

V is still determined to see Taehyung, which makes you uneasy. “...What exactly did you see last night to make you think that someone else lives with me?”

“...I saw myself.”

Your shoulders are weighed with anxiousness.

“Well, he looked just like me. But he didn’t look scared. He stared at me like how I stared at him. I thought I was looking at a mirror. Everything about him looked like me...except...more beautiful.”

There’s a look of pain in his face as he stares at his hand. You don’t know anything about V and what he goes through, but you still pity him. You were aware about how V and BTS are open about their struggles, but there is a large portion of it that they’ve kept hidden.

“I just...want to talk to him. My English is not that good yet, but I would still like to meet him.”

You thought that V might have evil intentions if he ever met Taehyung, but after hearing a bit more, you realize that he’s desperate just to see Taehyung once more. There’s an unresolved conflict within him most likely, and he thinks he might find closure with Taehyung, which makes you hesitant in responding.

“I’m...sorry, but I can’t.”

You quickly try to flee from the situation, but V grabs you by the hand, his cold hands sending signals throughout your body.

“Please?”

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, otherwise you’d regret turning him down. This is for Taehyung’s safety, so it’s for the better.

“I’m sorry, but you should go back.” You pull your hand away from his grasp and walk back instead your home.

------

You close the door behind you, and Taehyung was waiting by the door this entire time. He was worried about you, but he knew he wasn’t allowed to go out. Immediately, Taehyung hugs you out of concern, and he has no idea how relieved you are to feel his rigid body wrap around you.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“What did he want to talk about?”

“You’re right. He...wants to talk to you.”

Taehyung goes quiet.

“I don’t think he’s a mean person...but I’m not sure what he wants to talk about.” You peek through the window and see that V still hasn’t left.

You feel bad for leaving him out there, and you debate about whether or not you should bring him something warm to drink. However, you think that by doing so, you’re inviting him to come inside, thus putting Taehyung in danger. You knew that you shouldn’t have brought Taehyung outside. You were just excited about the thought of him experiencing the outdoors on Christmas, but you weren’t expecting it to escalate this quickly.

You turn to look at Taehyung, and he won’t stop staring at V. Though Taehyung can’t change facial expressions, you do know that if he stares at something for a long time, he’s thinking about what to do.

------

“(Y/N)?”

You’re sitting by the window in the living room, watching V sitting by the curb of the sidewalk. You were amazed by his endurance, being able to stay out there for so long without having to eat. To your surprise, no one in the neighborhood has recognized him, but then again it is Christmas and everyone wouldn’t want to go out at this time. Not only that, but your neighborhood is pretty isolated as well, only a few houses in this area.

You’ve been sitting there for hours that you’ve fallen asleep by the time Taehyung checks up on you. It’s late at night, and Taehyung is surprised to see that V is still sitting out there with great determination. Taehyung knows you well enough that you must feel awful for making him sit out there, but it’s always him that comes before anything; it makes Taehyung feel guilty—guilty that you make sacrifices for him, even if it means making others sacrifice as well.

He gets on one knee to be eye level with you. He strokes the back of his index finger on your cheek, wondering if you’re dreaming right now. There are so many things he doesn’t know about the human body, some of which he wishes that he can have as well. That way, at least he’d be more similar to you, and no one would have to be scared of Taehyung if he ever went out.

Taehyung looks out the window once more, knowing full well that V will not leave until he talks to him. Last night, Taehyung ran inside before he got the chance to say a word, but he knew that his identity was discovered the moment they made eye contact. However, during this entire Christmas and seeing V stand out there and having a chat with you, it doesn’t seem as though V was to harm him. V genuinely wants to talk to him.

Taehyung can’t sit any longer, he has to do something. You do so much to protect him, even when it’s his fault, you still do whatever you can to fix it. He wants to become responsible—he wants to protect you as well. You tell him that he can always tell you how he feels, but no matter what, he can never properly convey how important you are to him.

He stands up, closing his eyelids, pecking you on the forehead. Though he feels the pressure on his artificial lips, he doesn’t feel the texture of your skin. Since it’s been almost a decade, the pink color on his lips are fading away, but whenever he stares at your lips, they’re always pink. You said that skin typically feels soft, so maybe one day, Taehyung would be able to know how that feels. But that is merely a faraway dream that’ll never come true. After all, Taehyung isn’t real—he’s just an imitation of V.

Taehyung puts on his coat and scarf to hide his doll-like body. On the kitchen counter are the gloves that you bought for him just for this occasion. He takes them and walks out the front door, heading straight towards V.

------

You can’t remember when you fell asleep. One moment you were watching V from the window, and the next you found yourself sleeping. You raise your head, checking if V is still there. However, you lose all sense of sleepiness when you see Taehyung sitting next to V outside. You jump out of your chair, grabbing a blanket and slipping in your sneakers before running out without a coat.

“Taehyung!”

Both Taehyungs turn their heads upon hearing your voice, and you freeze. You look at both men, and it seems like you interrupted their conversation. Taehyung must’ve gone out when you were asleep again. In V’s hands is a steamed bun and Taehyung is wearing V’s thin-rimmed glasses.

Taehyung stands up, wobbling towards you while still wearing his glasses. His vision is perfect, so you don’t understand why he’s wearing them. Once he gets close to you, he pats you on the face to make sure that you’re really there.

“(Y/N), why do people wear glasses? I thought they were supposed to help you see better.”

You take them off. “It’s because your eyes are already healthy that you don’t need them.”

V approaches you and Taehyung. He smiles as he watches you two interact. His stare makes you uncomfortable, so you consciously bring yourself to stop talking. You feel guilty about making V stand out in the snow all day—you were just afraid that V was going to hurt Taehyung.

“Taehyung went inside and gave me a steamed bun, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. We’ll both be going inside. I’m sure there are people looking for you.”

But right before you head inside, Taehyung holds onto your hand. You turn around to see that he isn’t moving from his spot.

“Can we let Mr. V in?”

You want to ask him why, but you thought it’d be too rude to say it aloud. You turn your attention to V, who doesn’t seem all that excited nor desperate to come inside; he’s simply waiting for your answer.

“I promise Mr. V isn’t a bad person. He lets me use his things.”

You decide to trust Taehyung’s intuition and let V come inside.

------

You serve V chamomile tea at the dinner table while Taehyung gives him a tin pan filled with various kinds of Danish cookies. You and Taehyung sit across from V as he sips the warm drink. He lets the tea heat up his throat, balancing well with his cold skin.

“Tastes great.” He compliments.

You nod slightly, unsure of how everything came together just for this moment where you are in the same room as the two Taehyungs. V can sense that you have a lot of questions to ask, so he sets the tea down and prepares for a long chat.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t hurt Taehyung. We talked for a long time, and he’s a very kind person,” V clears his throat. “I also caught on as well...Taehyung isn’t human, is he?”

You jolt.

“Is that why you kept telling me to go away? You didn’t want anyone to find out that he’s not human?”

Sweat forms on your face. He has a sharper eye than you thought. All those years you spent watching V, you always assumed he was the kind of person who’ll space out and not think too much about things.

“I thought he was mannequin when I first saw him, but when he ran inside, I was confused. I wanted to make sure that what I was seeing wasn’t a dream, so I kept bothering you to let me see him. Is he a robot?”

Do you answer him truthfully or not? How will you explain to him about your father’s undying love for him and how he used black magic to bring Taehyung to life? While lying might be the safest in the moment, building up lies after lies will eventually topple over. So what is the best option in this situation?

“You’re right...Taehyung’s not human. He was created by my dad many years ago and I took care of him since.”

You keep your head down, fearful of his reaction.

“Wow, that’s cool!”

You’re surprised by how well V is took that information. You thought he’d be like any other person and be frightened by Taehyung. Then again, V and Taehyung spoke for quite some time, so all that talking might’ve mellowed the shocking revelation.

“Taehyung is really smart. We talked for hours, and he loves learning about many things. He also tells me he knows how to write? That’s amazing.”

“...You’re not freaked out about this?”

He shakes his head. “People made weirder things of me before. Taehyung is the most normal.”

You find that amusing. If he just hears about your father’s reasoning for Taehyung then this will definitely be on the top of his list. But if creating a replica of him is considered ‘normal’, then you try to imagine what it was that took the cake as the weirdest thing he’s ever seen. Humans do have endless creativity, some of which might be better if it doesn’t exist.

You turn to Taehyung to find him still playing with V’s glasses. One of the few mistakes your father made in trying to make a copy of V was that he made Taehyung have perfect vision while the real V needs prescription glasses.

“How long have you two been together?”

“Eight years.”

“Wow...it makes sense. Taehyung looks like how I did a little under ten years ago.”

V is well into his thirties now. Though he looks roughly the same as he did eight years ago, there is no doubt that his face has changed. He’s become more masculine, even growing a stubby mustache, though not obvious from first glance.

An hour goes by, and the three of you have been chatting. It turns out that you were just paranoid—V is actually a lot nicer than you initially thought. You just haven’t spoken to another person besides Taehyung in a long time that you forgot that there are people out there who have good intentions. Although you still don’t know why V wanted to talk about with Taehyung, V seems sincere.

V checks the time on his watch and realizes he overstayed his welcome. He stands up and takes his coat from the chair. You get up from your seat as well, wrapping your thin blanket around you as you walk him out the door.

“It was nice meeting you, (Y/N). You too, Taehyung.”

Taehyung nods his head. You keep staring at the ground, that small doubt still wandering the back of your head. V can sense that something is wrong with you, so he waits for you to tell him what you’re thinking about.

“You won’t...tell anyone about Taehyung, right?”

V smiles to reassure you. “Why would I? You worked hard to make sure that no one else knows, so it would be rude if I told everyone.”

You sigh in relief, though that doubt still lingers in your head.

“Also, I’m sorry about making you stay out there all day...I wasted your Christmas.”

V chuckles. “You don’t need to apologize. I was the one who chose to stay out there, even after you told me to go away many times. You were just trying to protect Taehyung.”

You nod slightly as V waves goodbye and walks off. You turn to Taehyung, who’s still waving goodbye to V too. Once he’s gone from your peripheral, you close the door and sit on the couch in the living room.

“I’m sorry...I went outside without your permission again. I saw how stressed you were about him so I wanted to do something about it.”

You chuckle. “What did you two even talk about?”

“I told him to leave, but he looked really happy to meet me again. I wanted him to leave...but I wanted to talk to him at the same time, so we kept on talking. I was scared that he was going to be afraid of me, but he accepted me...just like how you did.”

You look down at your feet, feeling awful that Taehyung truly believes that you were accepting of him. Is he trying to deny what happened in the beginning, or has he forgotten about it? It took a long time for you and Taehyung to get into the stable relationship that you two are in now, so now it may seem like a distant memory to Taehyung. But to you, it’s still as fresh as yesterday’s memory because there were things you wish you could’ve changed.

“Yea...it’s been a long day, shall we head to sleep, now?”

------

Ever since Christmas, V has been coming over to your house for the past couple of days. Though he greets you, he mainly comes to talk to Taehyung. They’re always in the living room, chatting for hours without breaks. Even Taehyung seems excited whenever V comes over. It almost seems like they’re twins.

It does make you a little jealous when you see them having fun. Whenever Taehyung talks to you, he always speaks in a calm tone, but with V, his tone is always as if he looks forward to meeting him. You try not to let your jealousy get the better of you since V is his first friend from the outside world. However, today is a little different.

“You���re not coming tomorrow?” Taehyung asks.

Taehyung and V are sitting together in the living room while you’re in the kitchen, washing the dishes when you happen to be eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Sorry, I wish I can, but I’ll be busy. The members want to spend time together because…”

“...It’s your birthday tomorrow.” Taehyung finishes the sentence.

V nods.

Because V has been coming to this place often, you had completely forgotten about his birthday. When you think about it more, you thought that it’s odd that V has been staying here longer than he should. You thought that they were on tour, so he should’ve left long ago.

“It’s okay...you’re busy, so I understand.”

You lean over to look at the two men, and V doesn’t look all that excited about his birthday. He isn’t smiling or laughing about it—just a serious expression.

“So do you celebrate your birthday on the same day as mine?” V asks to change the subject.

“...We don’t know exactly when I was born, so we always celebrate it on January 1st.”

“Oh, that’s not far from my birthday! Maybe after my performance then we can celebrate.”

“But...what about your job and the members?”

“No, I don’t think they would mind. Besides, I think they would be tired by the time we finish our schedule.”

When you look at Taehyung, you can’t tell whether he’s happy about that or not. Perhaps he is a bit happy about it because he’ll be able to celebrate his birthday with someone else.

“I know! My performance tomorrow will be filmed live, so it’d be nice if you and (Y/N) would watch it and support me.”

“Really?”

He nods. “It’s been a while since we had our comeback, so I feel a little nervous. We’re going  to be performing on the CNL Show at 8 P.M., so please tune in.”

V checks the time on his watch. Seeing that it’s already the evening, he gets up from the couch and heads to the front door. You and Taehyung follow him from behind.

“I have to get going now. I’ll see you two soon.”

You and Taehyung wave goodbye as V walks off. You’ve never seen V get picked up by a car or know where he walks off to, so you do get a bit worried, especially since he’s a celebrity and might get recognized by the public. It is a good thing that your neighborhood is rather isolated with the exception of a few homes.

You also found it odd that V has a lot of free time. He doesn’t stay all day, but he comes during the evenings and talks for a few hours. Unlike the same V that you knew eight years ago, he’s much more calmer than how he used to portray himself, but it could also be that he’s grown up and doesn’t have the same kind of energy he had when he was still in his twenties. He seems very down to earth, and he claims that his English isn’t that great, but he speaks fine. 

“You must really like V, Taehyung.” You nudge his arm playfully.

“Yea...I can see why people like him so much. I was scared to talk to him at first, but he’s a lot nicer than I thought.”

You nod. “Yea, V always had a way of charming people whenever he spoke.”

You remember the time when BTS was still fresh to you and how V always stole the spotlight even when he didn’t intend to. There were times when you couldn’t get your eyes off of him because he was that stunning. It wasn’t until your father’s death that made it hard for you to look at him the same. Every time you saw V on TV, your father’s dead body would flash through your mind, and then you’d feel the need to vomit. That was the same for Taehyung as well.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong? Are you tired?”

Recalling all that unwanted memory is making you space out. You comb Taehyung’s hair with your fingers. Because his wig isn’t made of real hair, the tips tend to stand up on its own no matter how much you brush it.

“No, I’m just thinking about how you two look really similar but have contrasting personalities. To be honest, I think it’ll take me awhile to get along with V compared to you.”

“Why? You don’t like him?”

“It’s not him, it’s just me,” you get up and walk to your bedroom. “I should be heading to bed. Let’s go, Taehyung.”

------

You toss and turn during the middle of the night, and despite the frosty air, you still feel sweat forming on your skin. Whenever you try to fall asleep, this lump of anxiousness would jump out of nowhere and attack you. Your mind is muddled with worries that it’s been preventing you from sleeping properly these past few nights.

You feel something cold being pressed against your arm. When you open your eyes, you see Taehyung’s silhouette sitting by the side of your bed and his wooden hand on your arm.

“You keep moving around. Another nightmare?”

You shake your head. “No nightmare. Just...can’t sleep.”

You haven’t been able to sleep since V started visiting, and there has been this feeling of uneasiness growing inside you. There are so many questions you want to ask, such as how V is able to have consecutive visits to your place without getting in trouble or being seen by the public. So far, V has been treating you and Taehyung kindly, but there’s just something unnerving about now knowing V’s exact intentions that makes you unable to trust him immediately.

Taehyung breaks the tension by putting his hand over yours. “Has something been bothering you?”

You feel conflicted about whether or not you should tell him about your concerns. On one hand, you know that withholding your thoughts from him will only bend your relationship with him, but telling him might hurt his feelings, especially since he really likes V. You personally don’t know how to answer him.

Taehyung brushes your bangs behind your ears, mesmerized by the gaze in your eyes. “I wish I can somehow jump into your brain and get rid of all your problems. That way, you don’t ever have to worry about anything anymore when you wake up.”

You chuckle at his heroic words. “You don’t need to do that. Just you being with me is already enough to keep me sane.”

But your smile fades away quickly, thinking about the beginning of Taehyung’s life and how you rejected him coldly. You would’ve never thought that Taehyung would ever become important in your life, not in a million years.

“Hey, Taehyung...do you remember how we first met?”

He nods. “You found me in the basement.”

“...Yea, and when you tried reaching out to me, I ended up running away and locking the door behind me. I left you in there with my dad’s dead body for a few days...Weren’t you upset with me?”

You two had a rough start, and you were constantly scared of him. After discovering what your father had done in the basement, you wanted nothing to do with Taehyung.  You were even considering to run away from this mess that your father left behind.

“...No, I’m not upset. I never was to begin with, because in the end, you still chose to open the door and reach your hand out to me, even if you were scared. You gave me a chance to live.”

Once a few days went by, your curiosity got the better of you and you decided to check the basement. Even after all those days, Taehyung barely moved from where he fell. He was still, staring into nothingness while you kept him in the dark. It wasn’t until he reacted to the light coming from the door, and there you were—half of your body peering into the dusty room.

When you found him in the same spot, something in you knew that he wasn’t a monster. You steadily approach him, kneeling in front of him as he reached his hand out as a last attempt. This time, you extended your hand and accepted him, and since then, you’ve been responsible for him. He was like a baby who had just been birthed and had yet to learn about the world, so you knew that it was your responsibility to teach him of that world. You vowed to watch over him and that you would never make him a monster.

Once again, you chuckle at Taehyung after recalling your first meeting, all that fear that you had before is now gone, and whenever you hold onto him, you only feel comfort. You were a hopeless girl eight years ago—going to school, avoiding people, despising your father, holding a grudge against your mother for leaving you with him. All those times being neglected has caused you to naturally feel the need to push yourself away from others before they can push you away, and this goes to V as well.

“How do you honestly feel about V coming by?”

“...I really do like talking to him. It’s like he introduces me to a new world that I’ve never heard of. It’s nice that he comes by often...but…”

“But…?”

“Mr. V is...a very great person...but I’m worried that…” Taehyung trails off.

“Worried about what?”

“...Nothing. I think I’m just being ridiculous.”

It’s rare for Taehyung to change his mind like that and be doubtful of himself. He’s always open about telling you the conflicts he’s dealing with.

“Keeping it to yourself isn’t going to solve itself. You can tell me what’s wrong.”

“...Do you think he’s a great person too?”

You wonder what Taehyung defines as a ‘great’ person. Of course on cameras V’s considered an extraordinary person, and now you know that behind the scenes, he seems just as great as he is when he’s being watched.

“V didn’t think much about you not being human...so I think anyone who accepts you for who you are is definitely a good person.”

Or at least that’s what you like to think. There are a lot of people who’ll use Taehyung for their own self gain or to ‘further science’, but you want nothing more for Taehyung than to live a life no different from other humans, even if it is entirely impossible to reach that goal. Whenever V came, he never pestered him for information about how Taehyung is a living doll, but treating him like any other person. You were preparing yourself for the worst, but you’re somewhat glad that the first person Taehyung met is his reflection.

------

“I forgot what channel he said he’d be on.” You mumble as you go through all the TV channels with your remote.

“I think CNL should be on channel 150.”

“Oh, you’re right.”

You flip to channel 150, and you made it right when the host is introducing V’s band and their latest album. Cheers from teen to middle-aged women can be heard in the background, waving their ARMY bombs. Once the music starts, the fans do the iconic chant where they shout everyone’s names right before the first member sings. Since this is their first performance in a while, they’re a bit stiff—constantly avoiding the cameras and looking down after finishing their lines. But after the first few verses, they eventually became naturals on stage again.

They became the performers that they were once before and a rush of nostalgia runs through your brain. You remember all the hours you spent sitting in front of your laptop and watching all their recorded concerts. Though you weren’t a massive fan, your jaw would still drop at how they would execute dance moves that you can never accomplish. Even after their long hiatus, they truly are natural-born performers.

You keep glancing at Taehyung, whose eyes are glued to the screen, specifically on V. You notice his eyes tracing in every direction that V moves to, not once blinking throughout the entire song. Neither of you say a word, letting the television being the only one with sound playing in the house.

However, seemingly out of the blue, the music stops and everyone stops dancing. V looks the most confused, while the six other members are breathing heavily from the dancing and singing. The fans starts singing the happy birthday song, including the members. One of the members comes with a birthday cake with three, lighted candles in the center. V still looks confused, but it finally hits him that they’re celebrating his birthday.

That’s when V’s eyes begin welling up with tears, and the crowd’s screams become louder. Various people in the audience spout sentences such as ‘it’s okay V’ and ‘we purple you’. V covers his mouth, bending over with his arm wrapped around his stomach to comfort himself. Seeing him break down makes the members feel the need to hug him, so they gather in a circle with their arms around each other with the exclusion of Jimin who’s still holding the cake but patting V on the back.

Jimin wipes V’s tears away with his thumbs, mouthing something in Korean but it’s inaudible. V blows out the candles, tears still streaming down his cheeks, and everyone cheers for him. Soon after, he looks at everyone in the audience, holding the mic close to his mouth to give a speech. He speaks in Korean for a good period of time, and once he finished, RM takes the spotlight to translate his words.

“I wish I could say everything in English, but right now, I feel like it’ll translate better if I say it all in Korean. We were gone for many years and were fearful that our fans have moved on with their lives, getting married, having successful careers, everything. While we are happy that our fans have blossomed into beautiful flowers, we could not forget about our fans because they created who we are today and still feel indebted to them. There are no words to describe how much you all truly mean to us.

During our long hiatus, we were all thinking about how we would make a comeback and surprise ARMY again to express our gratitude for the unforgettable memories we made with them during our primetime. We were scared that we weren’t going to live up to the expectation, and that took a toll on us. Every night was a sleepless night for me, and I cried every time I thought about disappointing our fans. I was so nervous that fans wouldn’t like me anymore because I’ve grown stale, even to the point where I talked to my fellow members about not participating in the comeback.”

The whole crowd begins wailing and screaming at his confession.

“But standing before my fans and performing on stage one more time made me realize that all my troubles were just me overthinking things. Even if all my fans moved on, I will never forget everything that you all have done for me, helping me get back on my feet when I needed it the most and hearing the cheers from thousands of people. So in exchange, I’ll keep on helping my fans get back on their feet even when I become old and wrinkly. Right now, despite our language barrier and different cultural backgrounds, we still had the opportunity to perform to you all again. Thank you for celebrating my birthday!”

The crowd cheers even louder, and everyone hugs V to comfort him. The host of the show takes over and congratulates V on his thirty-second birthday before plugging their album one more time and transitioning to commercial break.

Based on his tone and expressions alone, you can tell that this will be an unforgettable moment for V. Every single one of his words felt authentic. All those days he came by, he’s been harboring those emotions and conflicts to himself, finding it more comfortable talking to Taehyung about everyday life than about his life as a musician.

“Aw, I wasn’t expecting a heartfelt surprise! I almost teared up.” You comment.

However, Taehyung doesn’t answer you back. Instead, he stares off into space as a commercial runs, advertising the latest model of a vacuum. What Taehyung had seen must’ve definitely left a mark on him as well, though you’re unsure whether it is a positive or negative one.

“...Don’t you think it’s strange that millions of people loved V at some point? So many people are willing to sacrifice themselves for him even though they don’t know the true him. They only know the persona that he plays out on camera...” Taehyung rotates his head to you. “Do you think we know the true Mr. V?”

“I think...no matter what, we’ll never know everything about a person. Sometimes, we don’t know ourselves, so knowing another person is even harder. But there’s something that feels accomplishing when we know things about the ones we love that others don’t know.”

Taehyung returns back to the television screen once the show returns. Now, they’re introducing each individual member before the host asks them a series of questions.

“Look at all those people...they all came to see them. Some of these people travelled miles away just to see seven people perform one to two songs.”

“Well, it’s because they’re a band with a historical legacy. People would do anything to have a once in a lifetime experience.”

You don’t know what Taehyung is thinking about. He continues to stare blankly at the TV but not paying attention to the content that’s going on behind the screen. That’s when he rolls up his sleeves to his scarred arms. There’s a gaping opening in his wrist that you never noticed before—that time when he snuck out to fix the snowmen and accidentally ripped a hole in his arm.

“So even after they die, their legacy continues on?”

“Yea...but Taehyung, let me see your arm.”

You extend your hand out and take his forearm. You observe the hole, looking at it from different angles to see how bad it is. Taehyung’s skin color on his arm is starting to fade away, so much to the point where you can see the original color of his arm: white.

“I think it’s almost time to replace this arm. How did you get this hole?”

“I tried carrying the snow, but my hand gave in to the weight and I accidentally tore my wrist.”

“You gotta be more careful. Scratches are okay, but holes are definitely bad. Small things can find its way inside, and it’ll build up.”

On the television, V is saying something, but you’re too focused in finding methods to close the tear. While there are millions of eyes on V, Taehyung can’t help but feel a little happy knowing that there’s at least one person who has their eyes on himself, not on the real V.

------

“Happy birthday!” You exclaim.

In the dining room is Taehyung, V, and you sitting around the table after surprising them with a birthday cake. Since you celebrate Taehyung’s birthday not too far from V’s, you decided to buy one vanilla cake for the both of them to share. In the center of cake it says ‘happy birthday to the Taehyungs’. Since Taehyung doesn’t have lungs, V is the one who blows out the candles. You clap cheerfully, and V claps along with you while Taehyung stares blankly at the two of you.

You slice a piece of cake for V and Taehyung, even though Taehyung can’t eat. You feel that it’s better to have Taehyung be included by giving him a cake.

“V, are you sure you’re fine with spending New Year’s with us? Why not with your friends?”

“It’s alright. Anyway, it’s not about me. What did you wish for, Taehyung?”

It’s strange how dismissive V is about his friends, but you try not to worry about it nonetheless. You and V turn to look at Taehyung, but he doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“...If I say it out loud, then it won’t come true.”

You laugh, though Taehyung doesn’t understand what it is that you find comical. “Okay, we won’t ask. Instead, I’ll give you your present.”

You take out the present from under the table, and unlike the Christmas present, it’s bigger. He unwraps it with the same amount of care he had when opening the other present, and it’s a box. He takes off the lid and it is revealed to be another wooden prosthetic arm.

“I’ve been meaning to find another replacement but just didn’t have the money. It was also hard to find an arm that’s your length too.”

Taehyung doesn’t reply immediately, nor does V.

“I guess it was a good thing I bought it because your original arm is starting to wear out. Want me to help switch arms out?”

You proceed to move toward Taehyung before he answers. But as you move closer to him, you notice that he keeps eyeing V.

“It’s okay. We can do it next time. Thank you.”

You were a bit taken back as he usually lets you fix him up. He keeps his head low, not saying another word. You worry that you might’ve done something to upset him, but you keep wearing the smile on your face.

“O-okay! Just tell me when you want to, but don’t do it right when your hand falls off.”

Taehyung nods his head faintly to acknowledge you. He’s always been one to be lost in his thoughts, but you can never exactly pinpoint what he’s thinking about. Whatever he may be thinking right now, you hope it’s not bothering him too much.

------

You spot V sitting by the side of the curb, staring at the night sky. Since everyone is cooped up in their warm homes, you decide to keep V company outside. You wrap yourself in a thick blanket and walk outside. V can hear you approach him, but he doesn’t look away from the sky. You take a seat next to him, sighing as you adorn the blanket to protect your shoulders from the freezing temperature.

“How are you not freezing? I already feel like going back inside.”

“It’s hard to see the stars with windows blocking the way.”

“Are you not afraid of being recognized in public?”

“Do you think people are outside during this time of night?”

“...You never know.”

He smiles, exhaling a single breath of laughter, thankful for your concerned but finding it unnecessary. “Where’s Taehyung?”

“He’s inside, writing another journal entry.”

“I notice that Taehyung really writes a lot, but why does he have to write every day?”

You avert your eyes, pausing temporarily. “...It’s a long story.”

“I got time.”

You look at him, checking to see if he’s serious. He grins, challenging you to give him the story that you claim to be too long. You chuckle.

“There are a lot of reasons, one being that I want him to learn how to write, and another so that I have an idea of what he does when I’m not home.”

V raises an eyebrow out of confusion.

“He’s still not good at conveying his feelings, and it’s partially because of the limits that his body gives him. I try to have him practice expressing how he feels on paper since his face doesn’t allow it.”

“...Isn’t it kind of obsessive?”

Obsessive? You never thought of it that way because you would excuse it as you protecting him.

“Taehyung is his own person. He didn’t exist just to be locked up.”

You brush your hand through your hair, sighing. “I know...but it’s just that…”

“Are you afraid of how the world will see him?”

“Of course. Not everyone will be understanding. How do you tell people that I have a V look-alike and that he’s not human?”

Only silence roams as V doesn’t respond, but the silence is what pushes you to talk more.

“...Believe it or not, but I used to be terrified of Taehyung. I didn’t know what he was capable of, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave him alone after my dad made him. The first few years with him was rough...He barely knew how to walk, speak, or even use his arms properly. I had to teach him everything from scratch, and it was very frustrating. For many nights, I locked the door to my room because I was scared he was going to kill me. Even then, I would still have these random anxiety attacks, the paranoia creeping up on me, and I would suffer from insomnia. To me, Taehyung was a monster.

“Then one day...I got tired of him. I wanted to return to my life where I didn’t have to take care of anyone or anything. So I left the front door open in anticipation that his curiosity would get the better of him and he would walk out on his own, and he did. It was a celebratory moment, like I was finally able to breathe. But...it didn’t take long for me to start worrying. By that point, it was almost two years since I found him, so while I didn’t like having him around, it felt weird without him,” You turn your head to your right, staring at the neighborhood that goes down for a few more miles. “I went out and found him a few blocks down...being attacked by a bulldog.”

V’s eyes widen.

“We had a neighbor a few years back who treated his dogs poorly, so because of that, his dog became aggressive. And while he was being attacked by the dog, the dog’s owner’s children were watching with gleeful eyes. They were even throwing rocks at Taehyung and their dog just so it can become more agitated with Taehyung. But what shocked me the most is that Taehyung didn’t fight back. He just stared blankly at the dog while it bit his arm to pieces. And I think...that’s when I realized...after seeing him defenseless, Taehyung isn’t a monster...He didn’t even know how to defend himself.

“Before I knew it, my feet moved before I could even think, pushing the dog off of him. I also got bitten by the dog, but nothing else mattered as long as Taehyung was okay. Eventually, the children fled, and I had to drag Taehyung with me back to the house before the pitbull could get inside. I didn’t even notice that he was missing an arm. I remember hugging him, so relieved that he was okay, but upset at myself that I made him go through that.”

You remember staring at his missing arm, torn from the shoulder. There was a thick layer of saliva dripping from the tips of his torn skin. You took off his clothes, you saw the dents that the rocks made after the kids threw them. When you moved back to get a full view of the condition that Taehyung was in—one less limb than before and a damaged exterior that can’t be fixed—staring at you with eyes of innocence, you threw yourself onto him.

You cried, apologizing over and over about how you shouldn’t have been careless. You had forgotten about the bite on your forearm, letting the blood trail down and smear onto Taehyung’s vinyl skin. You held onto him to let him know that you won’t let go a second time, and when you held onto him long enough, Taehyung wrapped his single arm around you. You spent two years of being afraid of a threat that never existed.

“Since then, Taehyung and I started getting along. Whenever I taught him something, he picked it up pretty fast. He’s really good at imitating my moves, and I think he’s really smart. It’s sometimes just disappointing that no one else may never see how great Taehyung is,” you smack your lips, deciding to change the subject from you to V. “By the way, how are you so calm about Taehyung? Are you really not freaked out that he’s a living, talking doll?”

“Like I said, I’ve seen weirder things that fans have done. This is still unbelievable, but not the most unusual.”

“What’s weirder than this?”

V tries to list the things in his mind, chuckling as some memories that he comes across. “There are fans who have stalked me, others have fetishized me nearly to the point that I became a god to them, and there are even some slash fiction and audio edits that I wish I never came across. Some were funny, but others not so much. Back when I still had to complete my military service, a fan found the location to my dorm and started cutting herself.”

Your jaw drops.

“She told me that if I left, then she’ll kill herself.”

You knew that fans go to the extreme for their idols, but some of the stories have been exaggerated beyond the point of realism that they’re nothing more than passive stories attempting to get the spotlight. However, hearing personal experience makes it all too real.

“What did you do?”

“I froze. How do you react when a stranger tells you that you’re going to be the reason that they’re going to kill themselves? Luckily there was security to pull her away...but it’s something that I can never get out of my head. I couldn’t never understand what her intentions were. Was I really that important in her life, or was that her threatening me?”

V curls his knees up and rests his cheek on them, chuckling as he thinks about his short but fun time with Taehyung.

“Maybe that’s why I really wanted to talk to Taehyung. I don’t think it’s hit me that he’s not human, and that’s because he’s the most humane person I’ve met in a long time. It’s nice talking to him without my pessimism telling me that he only wants to talk to me because I’m famous. I learned pretty quickly that the more popular you are, the less real you look in other people’s eyes.”

You and millions of other people will never truly understand what V goes through, no matter how descriptive he is. Due to his image, he can’t even talk about this with fans or the public without the concern of backlash. Surely there will be people who will support him, but others will come out and criticize him for not taking immediate action. It’s easy to put someone down when you’re not the one stuck in the situation.

“...Thanks for telling me this.” You mutter, twiddling your thumbs.

He chuckles. “Why are you thanking me?”

“It must’ve been hard to talk about this, especially since we don’t know each other that well. Kinda shows that you trust me and Taehyung.”

“No, I’m only telling you because you told me a secret that nobody else knows,” V stands up, exhaling as he pats the snow off of his pants. “Today was actually the last day I’ll be in your city.”

You had forgotten that V came here for work. For the time that you two spent with him, V made it feel as though he were a longtime friend who came to visit. Despite the short period, you felt like a bond was built with him, and it feels like it was just yesterday when he first came across your neighborhood. Whenever you look at him, you thought about high school when his band meant the world to many people. You don’t exactly feel nostalgic, but a new door opening.

“Taehyung might be looking for you. We should go back inside because you must be cold.”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar. Your nose is red and runny.” He laughs.

You jolt, lowering your head and using your index finger to rub your nose. You’re so embarrassed that he had to see you in this condition that you blush. When you look at V, his face is as clear as the sky—no bumps, no facial scars, nothing. He must be wearing makeup to cover it, so it’s no wonder you can’t see any flaws on his face.

From the window of your living room stands Taehyung, watching as you interact with V. He’s never seen you interact with anyone other than himself, so seeing you blushing and smiling with V makes him feel uneasy. This emotion that he’s been feeling these past couple of days are becoming too much for him, and each day it just builds up more and more until he can’t bring himself to look at you. He presses his fingers on the window, questioning his own self-worth as he continues watching you converse with the real V.

------

Before the night ended, V gave you his phone number just in case either you or Taehyung felt like talking to him. He said that he’d like to continue with this friendship because every day felt pleasant, so of course you accepted his contact information. From what it seems, Taehyung is okay with it as well. He didn’t directly tell you if he wanted to talk to him again, so you assumed that he wants to.

One of the most dreadful things about starting the New Year is returning to work after a long vacation, so it was hard for you to go back to the usual schedule of leaving the house. As per usual, you tell Taehyung that you’re leaving, and you head off to work.

“I’ll see you later today. Maybe when I come back, we can watch a movie.”

Taehyung nods his head. “Okay.”

Ever since V left, Taehyung has been somewhat distant from you, but you think that it may be because he misses V. You know that if you were to pry more, then he would be more inclined to not answer you, so you let time heal his temporary ache in the meantime.

When you leave through the front door, you felt this eerie vibe from out of nowhere. You can’t quite explain it, but you definitely feel it. What you feel are two, dagger eyes on you. You look around, initially thinking that it was Taehyung being stare-y again, but the atmosphere didn’t feel the same. This stare felt...dreary. But you thought that it was just you, and you decide to ignore it, thinking that it might all in your head.

As Taehyung watches you walk out of the front door, he notices something strange from the corner of his eyes. He rotates them to what caught his attention, but it hid in the bushes before he got a glimpse of it. He found it unusual, as it’s not common for anyone or any animal to be scurrying around the neighborhood, and there was something from the corner of his mind, telling him that it may not be good.

And that feeling never went away for both you and Taehyung. Every day before and after work, you feel these heavy eyes on you, watching every move you make. You try to play it off as you being paranoid and didn’t tell Taehyung about it, but it’s getting to the point where you couldn’t ignore it anymore; there’s no doubt that you feel a third presence. It can’t be V because he and his band moved on to the next city, so you can’t think of anyone else.

Today you return home, and Taehyung does his usually greeting of hugging you and welcoming you back home.

You hug him back. “How was your day, Taehyung?”

“Good. I was writing in my journal again.”

“That’s great.”

You take off your shoes, tossing your purse to the couch and walking to the kitchen. Taehyung follows you, staring at you while you make yourself a cup of orange juice. You two talk amongst each other about trivial topics, and while chatting, you two move to the living room. Just like every year, you feel as though this holiday was too short, almost as if you barely had any time to be with Taehyung.

You sit by the couch where you’re positioned to see the window to the front yard. Taehyung sits on the couch opposite of you, listening to every word that comes out of your mouth. While talking, you notice someone peering into your front window. At first, you thought it was a passerby, but they don’t move from their spot. This young girl begins taking photos of your house, gidding at each picture she saves.

As strange as it seems, you try to ignore it, thinking that she’ll eventually go away, but it only gets worse when her friends show up. They huddle amongst themselves, cackling about something. They take more pictures, and it unnerves you. Noticing that you’ve been staring out the window for quite some time, Taehyung turns around and sees the girls.

“Taehyung, stay here.” You get up from the couch, not letting your eyes off the girls.

Taehyung almost stands up, but your raise your hand, signaling him not to move anymore than this. You put on your shoes and walk out of your front door. When they hear the front door opening, they begin squealing under their breaths, and you raise an eyebrow as you get closer to them.

“Hello, is there something going on here?”

The girls mutter to each other in low voices, huddled in a circle like in American football games. Eventually, the girls push one of them toward you. The girl in front of you looks flustered, hands behind her back and cheeks red.

“H-hi there...w-w-we were just wondering if V from BTS lives in that house.” The girl stutters out.

Your eyes widen at her question, and that feeling of foreboding resurfaces similar to when V came here. This time, you don’t know if they’re talking about V or Taehyung, but either way, it’s not good that they spotted him.

“I’m staying in my grandparents’ house down the street,” one of the girls points to her left. “And I kept seeing V going in that house.”

“Can we take a picture with him?”

With your jaw hanging, you shake your head, taking each step backwards slowly. “N-no. I’m going to have to ask you girls to leave.”

You turn around and dash back inside, slamming the door from behind. You lean on the door, staring blankly at the carpet as Taehyung runs to your side.

“Are you okay?”

You look up at Taehyung, unsure of what to tell him or where to start. Your worst fear is coming to life, and you might’ve put Taehyung into danger. You look through the hole on the door, and the girls have left. He blinks, and you try to compose yourself.

“I’m going to call V.”

------

V falls silent on the other side after you explained everything. You wait impatiently for him to respond, hoping that he won’t leave you hanging. Taehyung is sitting next to you, his head tilted and confused.

“(Y/N)...I’m so sorry...I didn’t mean for this to happen to both you and Taehyung. I can send you security or have you stay at a nearby hotel or…”

“I think we’re fine now. I just wanted to let you know. They might’ve thought that you were still here.”

“Alright, if anything else happens, then you have to tell me as soon as possible.”

You hang up the phone, and you sigh. Earlier definitely scared you a lot because you thought that the situation was going to escalate. Now that you had some time to think, those fans might’ve come to the realization that V is in another city. But you can’t shake off that anxious feeling, especially since one of the girls is staying at a house nearby.

Taehyung scoots closer to you, closing the gap between you and him. He must’ve sensed how worried you are, so he wraps his arm around you and pulls you in for a hug. Your face lands on his chest, and since his chest isn’t soft, there was a thump sound. It’s been a while since you two held onto each other like this, so it’s soothing.

“I’m sorry.”

You look up. “For what?”

“You called Mr. V because I’m not reliable enough to protect you…”

“What?!” You pull yourself back. “No, it’s not like that!”

You called him partially because you wanted to let him be aware, but also because of what he said about his fans taking things to the extreme. You thought that he would understand, that’s all.

“V knows about how to deal with fans better than we both do. It has nothing to do with you.”

However, Taehyung doesn’t seem all that convinced. “But I still want to protect you. You’re always the one doing everything for me.”

There’s something off about Taehyung, and it’s starting to make you worry. “You’ve been quiet lately. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You give him an intense stare, dying to hear his answer. It’s so rare for Taehyung not to tell you anything, so it’s making you think that he no longer trusts you. You want to do anything you can to fix that.

But before he can give you an answer, your phone rings, which startles you. You look down to see V’s contact number. You glance at Taehyung, letting him know that you have to take this call. He nods, and you accept the number. Although, the moment you cut off Taehyung to answer V, you feel you’ve just distanced yourself from Taehyung even more.

------

You were too naive thinking that that would’ve been the only time you experience strangers standing around your house. Within a few days, it’s escalated to the point where there’s a bigger group of people in your front yard. You can’t even walk out through the entrance anymore because you’ll be enclosed in a circle of unwanted attention, asking to see V.

Today is a weekend, so luckily for you, you don’t have to go to work. However, there’s an even bigger crowd since not many people work on Saturdays. You watch them through the window with your curtains down, biting on your nails as you anxiously wait for them to leave. It’s mainly teenage-to-young adults by your front lawn.

You update the situation with V, and now concerned for you and Taehyung’s well-being, he said that he’s going to do something about it. However, with his tour that’s still going on, V can’t exactly be there to help, but he’s going to try and bring some security. To avoid more attention and increase the chances of putting Taehyung in danger, you decide not to call the police, as it would also affect V as well. The crowd is not large enough to where it’s a hindrance, at most, seven or so people loiter in your area. But still, you don’t feel right letting them stay in your place.

“(Y/N), you should sit down.” Taehyung comments, watching you nervously pace back and forth in the living room.

You stop and smile, but you return to your anxious walking. Seeing as you won’t listen to him, Taehyung takes you by the hand and pulls you down to sit with him. Though he was rather aggressive, Taehyung knew that if he didn’t do anything then you wouldn’t have listened.

“This house is our safe haven, right? That’s why you kept me in here for so long,” Taehyung brushes your hair behind your ear. “So they won’t trespass.”

You chuckle, relieving from the stress. “You’re right...and if they do, then I’ll definitely call the police.”

You don’t like this amount of attention from strangers. It took you awhile to get used to V, so the sudden appearance of a crowd is too much for you to handle. You wish you never welcomed V inside your home. If you didn't, then you wouldn’t have gotten stuck in this situation. Because of your simple decision, it brought you and Taehyung unwanted attention.

You try your hardest to fight off the tears, but you feel so hopeless. Instead, you embrace Taehyung, letting your body fall onto him. Despite his hard exterior, you feel the same amount of comfort you’d feel when hugging any other person. You actually don’t remember how it feels to be in the arms of another human. It’s always been Taehyung. He claims that you’re his first everything, but he’s also your first everything. That feeling of being loved by another person was something you haven’t felt in years. Taehyung may be imitating the ‘love’ that you give him in return, but it’s better than nothing.

“Taehyung...a part of me is worried because they might do something to you, but at the same time, another part of me doesn’t want to share you with the world.”

You hide your face in his chest, finally confessing a bit of your selfishness.

“I’m scared that they’ll see you as a monster, but I’m also scared that you’ll find something better out there. You always say that you don’t do enough for me, but...keeping me sane is the best thing anyone can ever do for me,” You snicker in a distant tone. “‘Sane’...I think I’m as obsessed with you just as my dad was with V.”

You pull yourself back, and Taehyung cups both of your cheeks. He stares back with those dreamy eyes of his. He’s always observing with those eyes, and perhaps you’ve stared into those eyes for so long that they don’t look like glass eyes.

“I don’t mind. I’ll be yours forever if you want me to...and if you want me gone, then I won’t hesitate to do so. If anything I…”

Your phone goes off, and it’s V’s number. You leave Taehyung alone to pick up the call. “Hello? Yes...yea, we’re fine...Yes, yes. Oh, will that be fine? I mean, I think so...but…” You turn to look at Taehyung. “I’m not sure...yea but...okay...I understand. Thank you so much, V.”

You hang up and put your phone back in your pocket.

“V said that after tonight’s concert, if the people are still here, then he’ll have some people come over and tell them to leave.”

You sigh in relief, dropping your entire body onto the couch. You’re glad that this will be resolved tonight because you couldn’t stand going to work with the girls trying to ask if V is in your house.

“What did he say?”

“He sent security to tell the people to go away. They should come tonight.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything immediately. You thought that he’d be relieved too, but he doesn’t say or do anything to express what he’s feeling.

“Okay.”

------

Just as V said he’d do, the security eventually came and swept the people away. Some retaliated, but when the threat of police came into the conversation, that’s when they decided to leave you two alone. It’s nice seeing your front yard being vacant again, and now you can sleep peacefully.

You crawl into bed, finding Taehyung once again reading Pinocchio by your bedside. He hasn’t been reading lately because of V, but it’s not a surprise that he goes back to the book that he loves the most. You lean over to see him reading the page where Pinocchio and the woodmaker are stuck in the mouth of a whale.

“You know what, Taehyung? You’ve read the book a million times, but you’ve never seen the movie.”

“It’s fine. I like to use my imagination and picture everything in my head.”

“You’re always watching documentaries and news, but you never watch movies and cartoons. Why is that?”

“...I...don’t know. I think I like seeing things that feels real. Movies and shows don’t feel the same knowing that they are fake stories created by people just imitating to be real. Books make me think, and at least it makes me feel the most human,” Taehyung flips to the next page. “But whenever I read Pinocchio, I never understood how the fairy was able to give him a personality and everything. Pinocchio knew how to speak and walk without having to learn. He came to life because of fairy dust. When I look at myself...I struggled with all of that. I couldn’t grasp anything easily like how Pinocchio did. Even now, I still struggle with using my hands.”

Taehyung stares at his hand with the open wrist cut. You can tell that he detests his own hands because of how unrealistic they are compared to a human’s. But you take his hand, holding them gently to let him know that you never thought of his hands as disgusting.

“Pinocchio is a made-up story, and you’re real. In real life, people struggle a lot, and sometimes it takes years for them to fix themselves. If Pinocchio was based on a real story, then the book would’ve been thousands of pages long.”

“(Y/N)...”

“Yea?”

“In the story, Pinocchio died saving his creator, and after that, he turned into a real boy. But what would happen if he didn’t sacrifice himself? Would he have remained a puppet for eternity? Or would the spell fade away eventually, and he would become an ordinary doll again?” Taehyung looks up from the book and at you.

You try to think of an answer, but nothing comes to mind. It’s something that you never stop to wonder. What if he didn’t save the woodmaker?

“I don’t know.”

Seeing that you don’t have an answer to his question, he returns to the page, tracing his wooden finger down Pinocchio’s face. “To run out of time and return to being a lifeless doll, or to surpass the life expectancy of the one who cares for you...either way, they’re both scary thoughts.”

Taehyung closes the book.

“Either I’m going to fade away or my body is going to fall apart...I’m scared.”

Taehyung has never once said that he was scared of anything, and maybe the reason why nothing has ever scared him is because death scares him more than anything. Years ago when he was attacked by the dog, the time when he was scratched by a cat, and those strangers standing by your lawn, none of those scare him because there was something scarier crawling on his back, and that was his unpredictable ending.

“Don’t be scared! If a body part breaks, then I can fix it. And...if it makes you feel better, my father once told me that souls are those who are looking for another body to reincarnate into. We were all once souls that belonged to someone a generation before us, we just happen to forget who we were in our previous lives because we don’t have enough space to remember everything.”

“But...what if either of us disappears and forget everything?”

“Hmm...then somehow and some way, we’ll return to this home! After all, this is our permanent home. We may not remember ourselves, but when we feel or see something, it’ll bring back memories. By the way, I never got to fix your hand. How about tomorrow, let’s do it?”

Taehyung nods, thinking about your words. You always find the right words to make him feel better, which is why you’re precious to him. To not be able to see your smile every day will tear him apart, and he would rather be mauled by a dog a thousand times than to be separated from you.

“About Mr. V...I…” Taehyung opens his mouth to say something, but he shuts it quickly. “Never mind. It’s getting late. You should go to bed.”

He gets up and turns off the lamp to let you sleep. Rather than sit on a chair to watch you sleep, he heads downstairs. You know there’s still something else bothering him, but he won’t cough it up. What else is there that he’s afraid of telling you?

------

Taehyung sits by the windowsill, staring at the full moon. By this point, you’ve already fallen asleep. He keeps thinking about the past few days, having so many things happen at once in a short amount of time. It felt as though V was barely even here, despite being the only other human he’s ever spoke to. Time flew by before he knew it, and now it’s returned to the ordinary life he lived with you.

He rolls up his sleeve to look at his worn-out arm, noticing that the hole has become bigger. There are also patches of dirt ingrained in his skin. Just seeing his arm makes him anxious that his arm isn’t sturdy enough to lift heavy objects anymore. Despite that, he still doesn’t want you to replace this arm, and it’s because it’ll remind him that his body parts can easily be replaced, just as he can be replaced for the real V. As hard as he tries to get rid of the image of you two sitting together, it can’t help but think how V is a better match for you, not some makeshift figurine like him.

To distract himself, he picks up his journal that he left on the coffee table. He flips through the pages to skim all the past entries that he’s done. Typically, whenever he finishes a journal, you would put them stacked in a box for safe keeping. One day, he’d like to go through all the entries he’s done and reminisce about the memories he’s made. He opens to a blank page and begins writing.

Suddenly, Taehyung is alerted by the sound of the backyard door unlocking. He shoots his head up, cocking his head as he wonders what could’ve resulted in the click of the lock.

“Oh my god, did you do it?”

“I got it, I got it!!!”

The faint sound of two girls squealing can be heard from the kitchen. He sets the journal down, slowly getting up from the couch and motioning to the source of the noise.

“It feels so weird that we’re in the same house as V! But do you think V is really here?”

“I’m sure!! I swear I saw him.”

The girls continue murmuring to themselves, oblivious to Taehyung’s presence. He stealthily walks towards them and can see a small circular light moving around, assuming that it’s a flashlight. The girls tiptoe while he closes the gap between them, and as he moves, Taehyung thinks of different scenarios in appearing in front of the two strangers. Will they accept him like you and V, or will they run away in fear?

Once both Taehyung and the two girls stand at the corner that divides the living from the kitchen, they both freeze. The three of them stand in silence, making sure that they can hear if there is potential danger that lingers on the other side of the wall.

“Do you think that lady is still asleep?”

“I’m sure. Who the hell wakes up this late anyway?”

“You’re right...I just have a gut feeling that there’s another person here, and it’s creeping me out.”

Taehyung thought he was quiet enough to where he is presence is invisible to the girls, but they felt his presence. He peeks over the corner and sees the two girls with their backs facing him. They don’t notice him whatsoever, so he stands still, figuring out what else to do now.

He becomes so focused in trying not to alert the girls that he doesn’t pay attention to his surroundings. Taehyung accidentally hits his hand against a nearby vase, creating the sound of glass tipping over. He was able to catch it before it fell...but focusing on the vase was a huge mistake. Before he knew it, there was a strong force thrust against his cheek—strong enough that he falls to the ground. Typically, he never feels pain, but this sensation beneath his eye feels dented.

“Oh fuck…”

Both girls stare at Taehyung with wide eyes, one of them holding the flashlight with the light facing upward. The black color on the edge of the flashlight has been scratched off due to it having been used as a weapon and hitting Taehyung against the face. The girls look at each other in horror as the realization hits them of what they’ve just done.

The girl with the flashlight shines it on Taehyung’s face, but he’s too distraught at the dent in his cheek. He tries to blink, but the dent is preventing him from doing so. When they recognize Taehyung’s face, he isn’t met with squeals of admiration, but jaw-dropping silence that they’ve just injured who they think is their favorite idol. Taehung strokes the crater in his face, revealing his ball-joint hands. When he looks up, unable to get a good look at their faces due to the light blinding him, the girls see that this isn’t V, but a monster. They scream at the sight of his artificial face, running out through the back door.

Immediately, you jump out of bed at the sound of the girls’ screams and dash downstairs. You turn on the lights to find Taehyung on his knees, staring at the back door. You breathe heavily from the adrenaline and fear of not knowing what happened.

“Taehyung?!”

He looks up after you called for him, and you see the reason for the screams. He was hit hard enough that his cheek has been pushed inward...and his glass eye is cracked.

You run toward him, falling to your knees as well and putting both hands around his shoulders. You cup his cheek, pulling his head up to see the injury on his face and your expressing changing to horror as you see that the damage is near impossible to fix. There is nothing you can do to replace his face, and your expression says it all.

Taehyung wraps his hand around yours, seeing if he can find a way to soothe you. “I think I’m fine…”

“What are you talking about?! No you’re not!”

Whenever Taehyung’s body was harmed, he would look indifferent, but unlike before, he looks as if he can feel the pain on his face, especially in the eye area as he’s covering his cracked eye. You move his hand away, seeing as his iris is uneven, and in return, Taehyung has a difficult time seeing your face, as there’s a black line drawn across from his face and making your face crooked.

You stand up, pulls Taehyung by the arms to help him up as well. However, Taehyung loses grip and when he tries to stand, he falls back down. You try again, but fearing that you might rip his weaker hand off, you stop. He looks like he’s in a daze, unable to keep his eyes focused.

“(Y/N)...I can’t feel my fingers.”

“It’s okay, Taehyung...Everything’s gonna be alright...Just...let me help you to my room.” You try your best to remain calm, but something in the back of your head knows that this will not turn out for the better.

------

You were able to get Taehyung into your bed without him struggling. Normally, he would say that he’s alright and is in no need of rest, but with the damage to his head, it seems as though he’s too weak to even do that.

You stand in front of the room that you’ve kept locked for many years—the basement. Taking in a deep breath, you unlock the door with a key, opening it and revealing a dark staircase to Taehyung’s birthplace. You’ve avoided going to the dreaded basement as it would remind you of your father’s death. However, it is the place that your father keeps all of his books about black magic.

Because of the lack of presence in the basement, the light switch is buried in dust. The flip of the switch causes the particles to fly everywhere. You cover your nostrils with your sleeve, looking for the bookshelf. Being toppled with dust, you wipe it off to read the titles until you find the right book. Feeling too nauseous to stay in this room any longer, you run back upstairs and turn off the lights behind you.

Flipping through the pages of the aged book, the fonts are fading away. Thankfully, most of the pages are decipherial. You skim through the pages in hopes that you’ll find something that’ll help you fix Taehyung. After reading a few more pages, you found the page that might help, but you don’t feel too excited about it.

The sun rises by the time you finish reading. You return to your bedroom, and Taehyung turns his head to face you. However, his broken eye makes it hard for him to look at you, but he knew based on how silent you were that you did not come to bring good news.

“Hey...Taehyung, how are you feeling?” You try smiling, but the tips of your lips are trembling.

“I can’t move my fingers.”

You bite your bottom lip, sitting by the edge of the bed as Taehyung tries to reach out to you. The last time he struggled with controlling his body was when he first met you.

“I’m sorry Taehyung...because of me, I couldn’t protect you from those intruders. If only I had persisted V to take us somewhere safe then…”

“It’s okay. Don’t beat yourself up for it.”

Your eyes begin to well up, but no tears fall. “Why wouldn’t I beat myself up for this!? Taehyung, I read my dad’s books, and it’s nearly impossible to fix you this time. Because I was being careless, you’re going to…”

Saying the words would make you break down, so you hold back that lump in your throat and remain calm. Brushing your bangs behind your ears, you clear your throat for the news that you never want to tell him.

“The eyes...are what kept your soul intact with your body, and they were the only body parts that I had to protect. If they are shattered, then there isn’t a barrier anymore and your soul will disperse. The only way to secure it again is if I find another body for you. Maybe a mannequin, or another lifesize doll, o-or even an actual human body…”

Your heart starts pounding at your dark thoughts, potentially tricking someone into giving their body to you, or go to the nearest store and steal a mannequin. In a moment of panic, anything seems possible as long as Taehyung is okay. He doesn’t even need to look like V.

Then...you start even thinking about taking V’s body. No one would notice that the old V is old, right? Besides, it’ll still be the same body that everyone loves, and this time, Taehyung would be able to do things his current body can’t do.

You feel something brush against your arm, and it’s Taehyung trying to get your attention. He knows that you’re the type to overthink things, and it’s painful seeing you struggle alone.

“Whatever you’re thinking...stop,” he pauses briefly. “I don’t...want you to find me another body. I don’t want you to meet the same end as your dad.”

That’s right—conducting black magic is like bending the world for your own desires, and for that, nature will punish you. Your father was killed for performing ungodly experiments, and it came back to him by taking his life.

“I don’t want to live knowing that my life brought another death, especially to someone who’s important to me. Besides...I don’t want to continue living in this body.”

“Wh-what?”

“It frustrates me that I can’t do the things that you can do, especially seeing how Mr. V can do it all that you don’t even need me.”

“Taehyung...don’t say that.”

By now, you can’t control your tears. You hold onto his hand tightly, despite him not even feeling it. It’s only been a few hours and his body has already drastically changed inside.

“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life knowing that you have to constrain yourself to me. The only pain I felt was seeing you fix me, but I couldn’t fix you. So please...let me die.”

All you can do now is sob at Taehyung’s last wish. It was always rare for him to make requests, but whenever he did, it was always a difficult one. You hold onto his hand tighter, unable to stop your wails as you’re about to lose the one you love.

“O-okay…”

“I don’t know how much time I have left...but I’d like to spend it with you, (Y/N).”

------

“(Y/N)...I...I’m so sorry. I’ll come to your house as soon as possible.”

“No, V, it’s okay. This is Taehyung’s decision too, and we should respect it.”

“Do you really expect me to just sit still and do nothing?! Why did you wait to tell me this days later?? I’m the reason why he’s dying!!” You could hear the desperation in his voice.

“It’s...okay. There’s nothing we can do now, but I just wanted to let you know anyways because you were Taehyung’s only friend.”

“(Y/N), I...I’m so sorry...I should’ve been more alerted. I feel so stupid for putting you two in danger. I promise, I’ll do whatever I can to make sure that you and Taehyung will be okay.”

You choke on your tears, wanting to believe in that hope, but knowing the reality that it’ll never come true.

“I did a little bit of research about souls, and it’s possible that once it leaves the body, it travels to another one. If I can somehow do that…”

“V, stop. I appreciate the help, but it’s not that easy. Anyways, I called you about that so...I have to hang up now.” Before you let him answer, you hang up the phone. You feel awful for closing off V, but you know you’ll break down while on the phone.

Taehyung is sitting on the couch, all dressed up to go outside and play in the snow. His shattered eye has worsened to the point where he’s missing shards of it, revealing a dark void behind his eyeballs. You’re also dressed to go outside to the winter season’s last snow day.

You sit next to Taehyung, helping him put on the gloves you gave him for Christmas, and you see the arm with the hole in his wrist.

“I never got the chance to replace that…”

“It’s okay. I prefer this arm anyways. Reminds me of all the memories we made together.”

You can’t find yourself to smile anymore, knowing that with each passing day, Taehyung is become more and more distant. He no longer has control over his body and practically a speaking doll; not even his mouth moves.

You help him up by wrap his arm around your neck and lift him up. Luckily for you, he’s light enough for you to drag him to the front door. You don’t care if people see you two anymore, and all you want to do is be with Taehyung.

You set him down on the front porch while you start building small snowmen for him to see. The atmosphere feels dead—no more Christmas music, no giddy laughter, just silence as you fulfill Taehyung’s last wish of building a snowman with you.

Unable to bear with this quiet mood, you feel the need to talk. “Taehyung, can you tell me a story?”

You also asked him in part to make sure that he’s still alive. Taehyung pauses for a long time, until he finally thought of something.

“There once was a woodmaker who wanted to have a son, so he created a puppet and named it Pinocchio. Pinocchio was granted to live, but he wasn’t a real boy yet until he proves that he’s a selfless person. But...he didn’t know how to show it because he didn’t know what was right from wrong. He felt lost because the moment he was born...his creator was already dead.”

Your ears perk up, not remembering this part of Pinocchio.

“Then came a beautiful but frightened woman who was brave enough to take care of the naive Pinocchio. He was nothing more than a blank slate, not knowing how to speak or walk, but she was patient. When the naive doll walked out of the house and was attacked by a ferocious beast, the woman held him in her arms, relieved that he was okay. And...that was the first time he felt something. He didn’t know what it was, but eventually he learned that what he felt was love, his first ever emotion.”

You stop making the small snowmen, having your back facing him but too afraid to look at him.

“But what came along with love was jealousy, as he was always afraid that she would leave the doll for a better version of himself. The model his creator used was smarter, more charming, and charismatic. While he was a somebody, the doll was a nobody. He was afraid that he’ll be tossed aside for the shinier version, so the doll lived in fear that the woman would fall for him. But...she didn’t. She stayed with the broken, uglier version, and the doll is so thankful that he wishes he could cry. He was happy that out of millions of people, he had at least one person who would remember his story. (Y/N)...I’m sorry you didn’t fall in love with the real Taehyung. You were probably expecting to be with the real one, but you ended up being stuck with me. You may not like me, but even until my last moments, I’m glad I could love you.”

You turn around to look at Taehyung, and with an ounce of strength that he has left, he leans over and manages to give you a peck on the lips. He couldn’t feel a single thing, but that action alone made him feel happy that he was able to express his immense love for you without words.

“Even though I couldn’t become a real human, thank you…(Y/N), for showing me your world.”

And with that, the last of Taehyung’s soul dissipates, leaving you with an empty doll sprawled on the floor. Small shards of his glass eye trickle down from his eye, reflecting the moon’s illumination and resembling that of tears.

Taehyung was only there for a margin of your life, but he impacted you so much. Because of him you changed for the better, giving you the hope of finding one person that would understand you. You lived with so many regrets, as there were so many opportunities to prevent Taehyung from arriving to his short-lived life. However, he was never happy with his body from the beginning, so perhaps it was better that his life ended the way it did.

You continue to sob with the two small snowmen in front of you as Taehyung’s lifeless body falls off of your shoulder. Though his expression hasn’t changed, you could feel that he was smiling when he left his body, ending his tale that was not meant to exist.

------

Epilogue

You couldn’t stop crying after reading the journals—entries made by a doll who was in love with his caretaker but couldn’t express it, so he wrote it down on these very pages. The journals have not aged well as they are wrinkly and yellow, but they are still legible. You found this man’s life to be unforgiving, as he was a wandering soul forced into a poorly-made body for the sake of man’s obsession. But the young woman’s life is just as tragic, as she soon died of a broken heart. Just like the doll’s physicality, the woman’s mentality was just as shattered.

You find this believable because all your life, you felt as though there was something missing within you. Your mother always said that you were a crybaby, and no one could ever figure out why, not even you. At times, you would wake up while in tears, knowing that a dream was the source but not remembering what it was about. You kept searching for answers, but each lead led to a deadend.

It wasn’t until you ran into an old man while crossing the busy city streets. He grabbed your arm as if he knew who you were, and initially you thought it was strange. It wasn’t until he sat you down and introduced himself as a former musician of a band who is now a dollmaker. He told you the story of his two friends who were in love with his each other, but their lives caused them to separate at the early stages of their romance. He said that you just so happen to look like the girl.

Before he left, he gave you an address and a stack of journals. When you got home, you read all the journals and that was when you figured out what you’ve been missing your entire life. Your previous life never felt fulfilled, so you must’ve seeked for a more satisfying life but had forgotten about it. You knew that in that moment, you had to find Taehyung, even if he doesn’t remember you.

...You make your way to the address that the old man gave you, and it’s a dollmaker shop. You could tell that this place was once a home converted into a store, but this place also feels sentimental. You’re nervous about entering the shop, wondering what awaits on the other side. But standing still won’t resolve anything, so you force your legs to press forward until you inches away from the door.

It feels as though your heart will jump out of your chest from the anticipation, almost making you not want to open the door, but at the same time motivating you to do it. What will you do in the store? What if what you’re looking for isn’t there? What are you looking for? All of these questions hovering around but no answers, and the only way you’ll answer them is by going through the store.

You swing the door open, with the door hitting a bell just hanging from above. It’s a small antiquette-themed place. There are dolls of all sorts on the shelves and limb parts on cabinets with glass doors. The place is surrounded by the smell of oak wood. You peek your head to the side, inspecting the shelves of all the dolls from brand-named to the wooden kinds.

You hear the sound of footsteps coming from what looks to formally have been a kitchen but remodeled to be a backroom.

“Hello! How may I help you?”

You perk your head up to see a familiar man you’ve never met before walking to the cashier. Your jaw drops at the sight of him, knowing exactly who he is, despite looking different than before. Your bottom lip stutters as you try to comprehend the situation laid before you. There stands the man you’ve missed your entire life—that longing that you never knew you had is being fulfilled.

The man standing before you is no longer a doll, but a real human. You don’t know how that happened, but judging by the old man, he must’ve done something to transfer his soul into another body. Whatever the reason, it’s surreal to see him as a human, even though you’ve never seen how he looked like as a doll. You don’t even know how you looked like in the past.

After a wave of shock, you’re now experiencing fear, concerned that while you may recall bits and pieces of your past life’s memories, this man may be unaware. You feel choked up in the throat, but it’s too early to cry.

But that uncertain feeling is swept away once the man freezes and stares at you for a long period. Without a single word, you knew that he remembers you as well, and you feel relieved. There’s a strong signal between you two, but neither of you are saying or doing anything. It’s an unusual feeling of having felt as though you’ve known the other person, but at the same time, looking into the eyes of a stranger.

“T-Taehyung…?”

He chuckles. “Taehyung is the name of this shop’s owner, but he was also called V when he was still a singer.”

You’re disappointed and embarrassed that you mistaken him for someone else. You feel the need to run away after humiliating yourself.

“I-I’m sorry…”

“But...it’s been a long time since someone called me that.”

Your eyes widen.

“You must be (Y/N), right?”

You giggle, your eyes getting teary. “That’s not my name either, but that name is nostalgic.”

‘Taehyung’ cocks his head to the side, smiling as he gazes at you, falling in love with you a second time as you’re just as beautiful as you were before. “Well, I look a bit different, don’t I?”

Instinctively, you jump onto him, letting out all of your tears, feeling as though another being has taken over your body—this other ‘force’ being the person from your previous life being able to hold her loved one again. “Taehyung, I’m sorry it took me so long to find you...Even though I became a new person, I just couldn’t move on.”

Taehyung is puzzled, unsure whether he should hug you back. But when he feels the soft texture of your skin, he loses all composure and begins to cry as well. All the emotions he couldn’t express before is finally released, holding onto you as tight as he could and not wanting to let go. He never knew your skin felt this soft, had he known it was this soft then he would’ve never left your side.

Taehyung knew from the moment he was created, he would never turn into a human like Pinocchio, as the world is crueler than in storybooks. He knew...but he still tried being as selfless as he could. However, his determination to become selfless was selfish because he was driven to be with you for the rest of his life. He was scared that you’d fall in love with the real V and leave him for good, but seeing as you couldn’t even leave him alone in this world, he can’t help but be grateful that you’re the one he loves—in both his past life as a doll, and as a real boy.

In the end, Taehyung got his wish granted and became a human, and there is nothing else he can ever ask for.

“Welcome back…(Y/N).”

[End]

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read this until the very end!!!!!! :D I was very iffy about making this story because technically you don’t end up with the real Taehyung...so I hope you all enjoyed it and please tell me whether you like it or not. ^_^

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