#soul society tattoo artist au

[recurring-polynya]

Hello, I've stumbled over you blog a few days ago and I have to say: I adore it! One thing that stood out to me though is I'm one of your tattoo artist renji posts you mentioned that you still have to come up with a name for the district Toshiro and Momo are from but from what I remembered and read on wiki it already has a name? As far as I found the province they grew up in is named Junrinan. That's all, have a nice day!

I had to look up the post in question, because I would never forget Junrinan. (I frequently forget how to spell Junrinan and have to look it up constantly, which is how I know I would never forget it.) I phrased it kind of poorly, and I understand how you interpreted it the way you did.

What I meant to say was that in this AU, Renji lives in District 1 of South Rukongai, a place similar to Junrinan. It's South District 1 that I needed to come up with a name for, which I eventually did. It's Mukunosu (椋の巣), Starling's Nest. "Starling" was Edo era city-slang for migrant workers and other people coming in from the country side, and I also liked that 'su', the word for nest, can also mean 'haunt.' Technically, starling is "mukudori", but that felt like too many syllables to cram in there. The second character just means "bird", and I found an example of Bashou abbreviating it to muku, and also one of my Japanese-knowing friends said it was ok. I worry about these things way too much!

Glad you've been enjoying the blog and thanks for thinking of me!

[likeastarmuses]

pinned post!

primary muses.

women

elizabeth 'lizzie' opal rojas | fc: rosa salazar. retired drug dealer trying to make a name for herself in the digital art world when she's not waiting on tables at a greasy diner.

felicity isabel mendoza | fc: odette annable. former biker girl in her teenage years, now a single mom and midwife who is undoubtedly the glue to her family.

nancy inez martin | fc: deborah ann woll. mousy former combat medic dealing with so much trauma from war that she's in compassion fatigue and in need of human warmth and connection.

peyton marie tower | fc: halston sage. the nepo baby who dared to be something else, refusing money and fame from her tech giant CEO father while forming a legacy with her small-town game shop.

soleil jessamine smith | fc: madison davenport. rebel without a cause seeking the spotlight, trying so desperately to be different from her backwoods roots but losing herself in the meanwhile.

twyla mae mooney | fc: margot robbie. a rainbow personified, left a cushy cosmetology job in north carolina to do makeup and costumes in los angeles.

una carys tempens | fc: samara weaving. petty thief and stripper, all in the name of supporting her much younger twin siblings while her mother suffers from drug addiction.

men

beacon jace namara | fc: daniel kaluuya. old soul music teacher in love with jazz, constantly seeking gigs where he can show off his trumpet skills.

elisha 'eli' james king | fc: jon bernthal. loud but also a sweetheart of a former firefighter from jersey living in a firewatch lookout in honor of his late best friend.

ezekiel 'zeke' isaiah lim | fc: steven yeun. mid-tier gamer/streamer who is the anchor of his large family, having spent a lot of his 20s caring for his mother who was diagnosed with alzheimer's once he graduated college.

ford atticus smith | fc: adam driver. quiet and stoic veteran who is taking care of his large family farm, as well as running his own ferry business across lake pontchartrain in lousiana.

jamie alexander thompson | fc: paul rudd. english professor and lover of sports with a few published books, mostly a dork but also occasionally perceived as a dilf.

jesse gabriel mendoza | fc: jd pardo. fresh out of prison and trying to find his place in society again, keeping out of trouble by taking care of his motorcycle and dabbling in tattoo art.

kirk tiberius james | fc: andrew garfield. longtime comic book artist looking to make his big break in the profession while managing a coffee shop in a college town.

quinn 'soap' philip shepard | fc: pablo schreiber. brooding mercenary with hardly a soft spot, thinks with his fists before his brain, and will likely try to intimidate anyone who dares to peer behind his guard.

**horror-based AU details under the cut.

please go to each individual muse to see the horror-based plot ideas i have for them! and please keep in mind muses aren't limited to the plots i've quickly scribbled down for them. i'd love to explore more verses and horror-based fandoms! some of my favorite horror movies/franchises/genres include but are not limited to:

the conjuring/insidious/the nun

evil dead

saw

slasher - child's play, friday the 13th, halloween

nightmare on elm street

ready or not/you're next

the thing/alien/predator/annihilation

pearl/x

the witch

hereditary

giallo-type stuff/dario argento horror

[satellitesunset]

favorite romance tropes? 👀👀

did i make the post hoping someone would ask me this? maybe dbhbbdh thank you cloey my love for giving me an excuse to just ramble about love, i have so much to say. ps take a shot everytime i bring up the concept of choice. (don't you'll die of alcohol poisoning)

strangers-to-lovers

i don't think people give this trope the love it deserves, for me it's all about the choice, choosing to get to know someone, purposefully loving someone even tho there's nothing there's tying you together, no shared history, no sense nostalgia. it's falling in love intentionally AHHH

love as a vehicle for character development

this is my shit!! two people improving each other!! not changing per say, but allowing each other to blossom. the idea of being in love with someone and wanting to be better, because they're so good and wonderful and they make you want to be good and wonderful too!!! being loved so unabashedly and having your hope in life reignited because if such a kind soul exist then the world must have some kindness??? C'MON

healing

sort of related to the last point, i hope my explanation isn't too vague. the type of love mentioned in begin again, daylight, new year's day. meeting someone new, and you like them, and you yearn for them, but being afraid, anxious because you've been hurt, but maybe this time would be different, and it is. makes me go INSANE. finding someone who will stay, who sees your flaws, and choose to love you, not in-spite of them, not because of them, but because they're part of who you are!!! the type of love that balms the soul, the type of love that's constant and warm, and Just!!

single parent au

kids??? do i need to say more?? i love them!!! i think single parent aus tends to fit into the above tropes so yeah.

re-falling in love

i love established relationships, i love when lovers grow old together and they just keep falling in love more each day. this could v much be a miss, but if it's done right, i think it's so rewarding?? i adore when it's rooted in communication and a foundation of trust and respect. especially with how society treats growing older as this things to be feared, the idea that you lived a a lifetime with a person, and you actively choose to not just still love them, but so much more?? acknowledging that they changed, that you changed, and FALLING IN LOVE WITH THIS VERSION OF THEM. TOO!!

bakery / flower shop / tattoo artist au

immaculate vibes?? i just like AUs tbh.

fluffy shit

baking together, existing in the same space, doing random gestures, cuddling, fucking, going on a date. a glimpse, a lil something that tells you so much about how much they actively love each other, how much they know each other, once again, it's choosing to love someone, over again and again!!!!

summer fling

i only love this one if it has a sad/bittersweet ending, i die for the short-term love, one that's not infinite. the knowledge that your time with someone is limited, and choosing to adore them!! we put so much pressure as a society on love being this forever thing, that the only love that matters is the one that lasts, that love is only worth it if its permanent. AND I HATE THAT. love may be a moment in time, a stranger that took your breath away by their beauty, an artist you don't know but what they created managed to touch your soul. in ly opinion love isn't meant to lasts and there's something so beautiful about that. knowing that that this relationship is doomed from the beginning and still choosing to love someone with all your heart because getting to love them by itself is a wonderful thing?? they will leave, and they'll probably take a bit of you with them too, and in your heart they left their prints and this part of you will always love them even tho they're no longer their?? hits different.

hurt no comfort - hurt/comfort (depends on the mood)

i like pain, i like to be hurt, i like to cry, i may as well have masochism kink. in middle school i used to have elaborated fantasies of one of my parents dying because i was touch starved, and i wanted someone to comfort me and tell me it'll turn out okay, we're not gonna talk about that, you get the vibe tho.

dumbasses being in love

i'm a sap, i love chessy gestures, i adore silly pick up lines, I LOVE SERNADES, doing the stupidest shit because you love someone and it make them smile, i also believe in the inherent romance of dancing, you know that thing when one of the character ask the other to dance and there's no music, so they say cliché shit like "let's dance to the beat of our hearts"??? and they just dance together with no rhythm but they're in love so who cares??? KILLS ME IN THE BEST WAY

symbolism or love as an act

i believe that love is something that is offered. and while gift giving isn't my primary love language, stuff like they give each other flowers and they look up the meanings of the flowers, candles and how their scent have some significance, a piece of desserts that they know the other love so they bake it?? love is stored in actions. (i say far too confidently for someone who's number one love language is words of affirmations and hates acts of service)

forbidden romance (bonus points if it's historical au)

...i like angst?? like they want to be together but they can't.

infidelity

this one v much depends on the context, there's two main conditions, firstly a bittersweet ending and secondly i don't want the cheating to just be conflict for the main ship. i want guilt, i want knowing you're hurting the people you love but not being able to stop this thing, i want the doubt, the fear of why would someone who loves you cheat on you, you know on a fundamental level it's not you, but you can't help feeling as if you aren't enough, i want the yearning, my favorite perspective to read from, "the homewrecker", the knowledge that you're a mistake, and that's all you'll ever be?? but still accepting that!! because what's the alternative. i think it says so much about the human nature, how we long for love, and we're willing to accept the bare minimum, it's fucked up for sure, but it itches my brain in the best way.

toxic dynamics

same as before, i need the awareness that they're mutually toxic to each other, i don't want abusiveness. i want two people who's love is destructive, they ruin in each other, there's bitterness, passion, love as this primal need. it's raw and unrefined, it's sharp edges, and the rush of adrenaline, a roller-coaster of emotion that you can't escape. an addiction. you know it's tearing you apart but you can't leave. or if you want to make it more heartbreaking, think of the quote "we accept the love we think deserve". and knowing something is hurting you but it's the only love you ever known and on some level you think you deserve it. *chef's kiss*

[thesleepiesthufflepuff]

My Favorite Fics 2020

Alrighty. I read a decent amount of fanfiction this year (mostly thanks to Wizards Hearts/Game of Drarry), and I’m here to list out some of my very favorites. Thank you to all of the creators out there who put so much time, effort, and energy into creating beautiful stories, and here’s to lots of reading in the new year 💜 also, this is in no particular order and all rec notes are from my personal fic tracker spreadsheet (if anyone wants details on how I set up my spreadsheet, etc. please feel free to send an ask!) 💕

1) Change on the Horizon by Static_abyss / @static-abyss [Explicit, 118.6k,]

When things settle down after the war, Harry has trouble figuring out who he’s supposed to be and what’s expected of him. At the same time, Draco finds himself having to decide between what his parents want and what he wants for himself. Together, Harry and Draco embark on a journey to figure out who they are as individuals and what that means for their future together.

A canon AU drarry fic based on the relationship between Mickey and Ian from Shameless.

Hands down one of the best fics I've ever read. Ana did the most amazing job at translating Micky and Ian's relationship to Harry and Draco, although it’s definitely not necessary to know Shameless in order to enjoy the story. The writing is stunning, and I loved every single bit of this

2) I’ll Play Your Game by JayseHasNoGrace [Mature, 52.2k]

After quitting the Auror department at the ripe old age of twenty two, Harry Potter finds a nice, uneventful job in an apothecary. At least, it's uneventful until his old rival Draco Malfoy comes into the shop.

They strike up an unlikely friendship, which evolves into an increasingly convoluted scheme, which then snowballs spectacularly out of control into a tangle of lies and blurred lines.

They'd agreed to a fake relationship — in Harry's case, to get the wizarding world to take him off his 'perfect saviour' pedestal, and in Draco's case, just to be given a chance in wizarding society at all — but neither of them expected just how difficult that might really turn out to be. Especially when the stakes grow ever higher, and they both start falling for each other. Just a little bit.

FAKE DATING!!! Ugh, this was so good. I love the media aspect of it, and the way that everything comes together is just brilliant. A must-read for anyone who loves fake dating!!

3) I Can be Your Lighthouse by orpheous87 / @orpheous87 [Teen, 4k]

When Harry gets called to investigate reports of Dark magic, the last thing he expects to find is an almost unconscious Draco Malfoy. After multiple instances, he resolves to find out what's going on.

inspired by the song The Lighthouse by The Used.

So, so sweet. I love Harry's determination to figure out what's going on. This is such a lovely fic, and I enjoyed every minute of it

4) Freedom to be by Quicksilvermaid / @quicksilvermaid [Explicit, 169.5k]

Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived.

12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends.

Only nothing feels perfect.

Until one day he stumbles across a club called Release and begins a journey of self-discovery that takes him to a very different place.

This left such an impact on me, and it’s a fic I think about often. I can't even begin to explain how incredible everything about this is.

5) Dear Diary by AWickedMemory (TeddyLaCroix) [Teen, 20.4k]

// This can’t possibly go worse than the last time I kept a diary. //

After the war, Harry picks up a journal to write in… and it writes back. Luckily, it’s not a Horcrux on the other end this time.

Absolutely amazing. The relationship that develops between Harry and Draco as they write to each other was so soft and wonderful, and I would easily read 100k of this!

6) Grounds for Divorce by Tepre [Explicit, 122.2k]

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

I loved this. It was so angsty at times, but well worth it. An absolute classic that I’m so pleased to be able to say I’ve read.

7) Nero Su Bianco by Zuzallove [Explicit, 40.5k]

September 1997. Hogwarts is under the regime of Voldemort and the Carrows. Finding himself alienated by both his friends and his supposed enemies, Draco puts quill to parchment, and writes letters. He addresses them to the only person he can think of, as Hogwarts rapidly falls into chaos and ruin: Harry Potter. He goes to great lengths to ensure the letters are never discovered, and he’s pretty certain he’s done a great job.

Until the day of his trial.

The letters were so much fun to read, even though they were heartbreaking at times. I loved Draco’s characterization in this, as well as how his relationship develops with Harry.

8) Thunder by Keyflight790 [Explicit, 21.5k]

The storm will disappear; the rain will subside; but what's left in its wake will last forever. A story of love and loss, redemption and thunder

I really loved how well Draco's addiction was written. I'm not a huge fan of past relationships, but this was done in such a beautiful way. Plus, talking to dragons!!!

9) dirtynumbangelboy by magpie_fngrl [Explicit, 39.4k]

After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.

Amazing. This has absolutely sucked me into the world of fake dating. I could ramble about this forever, to be honest. Simply incredible, and I love how snarky their relationship was. It was the epitome of a good Drarry fic.

10) just tell me when it’s alright by M0stlyVoid / @bonesliketambourines [Explicit, 23k]

Harry’s been fighting tooth and nail for any bit of normalcy he can get his hands on. He’s sick of feeling like something’s wrong with him, tired of feeling different. He thinks he’s finally gotten to the root of it, and has settled into a routine that makes him happy. Naturally, that’s when Draco Malfoy walks back into his life and upends it once again. Has Harry bitten off more than he can chew with his former rival?

YES!! I genuinely loved Harry’s clinginess. This fic was absolutely amazing, and the secret dating was lovely. Plus, bi awakening!!

11) When Hippogriffs and Pygmy Puffs Collide by oldenuf2nb [Mature, 32.7k]

Harry Potter bakes cakes, brilliantly. Draco Malfoy inks tattoos, brilliantly. Owls deliver post, including messages from clients, with an occasional lack of brilliance.

I was really surprised at how much I loved this, especially since I’ve not really read many fics with odd jobs. I absolutely adored the fact that Harry was a baker and Draco was a tattoo artist, and the characterizations were absolute perfection

12) You Send Me (Honest You Do) by firethesound [Explicit, 37k]

As far as potion accidents go in general, and deaging incidents go in particular, Draco knew this could have been so much worse. Harry only lost about ten years, and all his memories are still intact. But the sight of him looking as if he’s stepped straight out of Draco’s Hogwarts memories has dredged up a whole mess of complicated feelings Draco thought he’d buried years ago, and Draco really doesn’t know what to do with any of it.

I absolutely adored this, and I thought the de-aging aspect was done is such a tasteful way. Such a good read.

13) Highly (in)Compatible by daisymondays [Teen, 36.8k]

Draco’s been shagging The Prat Who Lived on and off for a few months when his soul mark starts to change. Draco’s had to accept a lot of adjustments to his life, but accepting that Harry Potter could be his soulmate is one step too far. It can’t be true? Can it?

I LOVED THIS! Oh man, that ending!  Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant

14) Kiss the Joy (Until the Sun Rise) by ICMezzo [Mature, 37.8k]

The Room of Requirement was severely damaged in the war, but not so much that it could not provide for one lost student and another young hero—especially when they needed each other most of all.

An amazing, beautiful, tender fic! The ROR has given them the gift of each other, and I honestly love that it's just the two of them and no other characters. An incredible and soft read

15) December Never Felt So Wrong by MaesterChill / @maesterchill [Explicit, 50k]

'Twas the month before Christmas and sixteen year old Draco Malfoy had never felt worse. His attempts to kill Dumbledore were failing and, as usual, Harry Fucking Potter was a constant thorn in his side.

All that suddenly changed when Draco woke up 15 years in the future and discovered that not only was he allegedly shagging Harry Fucking Potter, he also had thinning hair and a five year old son, and no fucking clue how he got there.

Truly brilliant, and I was laughing from the start. The combination of the aging up, Harry’s off-tune singing to Muggle songs, and soft parenthood were all things I immediately fell in love with. Will be reading again and again

16) Catch Me If I Fall by keeli_marie [Explicit, 38.2k]

When Draco Malfoy collides with Harry Potter one morning while dropping the kids off at school, things don’t go quite the way either of them would have expected.

Another absolute gem, and I'm still reeling from how amazing it was. I'm always a bit hesitant with kid fics, but this is one of the best depictions of love between Harry and Draco that I've read. I love how supportive Astoria is. Such a lovely fic  

16) Love Found by Peachpety / @peachpety [Explicit, 7.5k]

During Harry’s sixth year, Draco Malfoy joins the Order as a double-agent and continues with his task to get the Death Eaters into the castle as assigned by Voldemort. Draco succeeds with his mission the evening Harry returns from the caves with Dumbledore. The boys reunite on the Astronomy Tower and, with the Death Eater’s arrival, are forced to engage in a fight, driving Harry to come to terms with his feelings about true friendship and romantic love.

SUCH a good rewrite of the astronomy tower scene. I can’t describe how much I love the pre-existing relationship, which is a trope I typically steer clear from. And the snark!!! Such a good fucking fic

17) Taro Milk Tea with a side of Depression by Veelawings / @veelawings [Mature, 1k]

Draco sat through twenty grievous minutes of Ministry-mandated group therapy for Newly Registered Magical Beings & Creatures — then promptly stormed out.

Okay, I loved this. The play format was so cool and fit the narration so well. Absolute perfection and SO. GOOD.

18) The Dragon At The Bottom Of The Garden by Zopno [Explicit, 52.3k]

At 25 Harry Potter's life was simple; he flew, sculpted, and had the vault in the back of his mind to keep all unpleasant business. It was stable, but when Draco Malfoy literally hit him with a giant rock; all that changed.

I loved the storyline, especially Animagus bird Harry!! This was such a unique take on an Animagus and post-war fic, and I loved reading it so much   

19) Exposure by GallaPlacidia [Mature, 26.9k]

When Seamus uncovers Draco Malfoy's camboy profile, he, Harry and Ron decide to anonymously book a private show so as to humiliate him later. Fascinated by Draco's confidence, Harry keeps booking private shows under the disguise...

Self prompt: Draco is a camboy. Harry betrays him.

I can't give this enough praise. The hurt of it all was so brilliant. A new favorite for sure

20) you've got the antidote for me by Kandakicksass [Mature, 20.7k]

When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want.

He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.

Fuck. Like...fuck. This was so sad and angsty and perfect in all the right ways. Watching everything unfold was so painful but so worth it. Another new favorite

21) A Room Up There (And You In It) by thestarryknight [Teen, 59.2k]

When Preservationist Draco Malfoy was assigned to work on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he was excited to delve into the gorgeous Black family antiques. His excitement quickly ended when something in the House decided it did not like his presence one bit. Featuring a grumpy antiques lover who most certainly did not sign up for this, encounters with a vengeful apparition, and a healthy application of Christmas spirit.

Absolutely fucking fantastic. This fic reads intimacy all over, despite there being no sex. I love preservationist Draco and the way in which information about Harry unfolds. I can’t say enough how much I loved this advent fic, and Starry did such a great job

And now for three fics that I have yet to read/need to emotionally prepare myself for:

1) Modern Love by Tackytiger / @tackytigerfic [Explicit, 61.2k]

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what's he doing right, that Harry isn’t?

Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years.

And that’s what starts it all.

2) Dragons Don't Know Paradise by  tainara_black / @teacup-tai [Explicit, 50.9k]

In 2004, when Remus spends two scary weeks in the ITU due to complications of pneumonia and his HIV condition, Sirius walks around the house like a ghost and Harry finds comfort and strength in Draco through a chat in an online LGBT forum. Harry falls for him, but Draco has a lot of secrets and, before long, will need to come clean—even if he believes that no one is able to understand a dragon.

This is a story about falling in love online and about facing the reality of death, but above all, this is a story about hope, finding love and acceptance. (Non-magical / bookshop AU, written for the 25 days of Drarry 2020)

3) Aeternus Solem by onbeinganangel / @onbeinganangel [Explicit, 36.9k]

On December 1st, Harry Potter gets sent halfway across the world to attempt to break a possibly fatal curse on an unnamed British Unspeakable — except said Unspeakable is not unnamed at all and Harry has been in love with him for over four years.

{If anyone spots any mistakes in this list, PLEASE let me know! I hope you all have a lovely New Year’s, and may 2021 be less of a dumpster on fire than its predecessor 💜}

[zwiezraczek]

Your writing is so good! Could I get no. 10 ? the reader is female (she/her) and maybe it could be a soulmate au and Roger is her soulmate and soulmates maybe have the same mark or maybe you have an idea for that 🙊 thank you so much! 😍💕

She's (Not) Afraid Of Falling In Love [Blurb]

Note: Sorry for taking so much time but now I'm here! I tried to pair up this blurb with your idea about a "She's not afraid" by One Direction fanfiction, I hope I managed to do something goid with it! I hope you'll like it!!! 💕

~~~~

You never wanted to fall in love, literally. But the society expected you to. Especially the tattoo on your wrist – the one you hid since high school –, the clock ticking and every second seemed to be an eternity. You were about to found your soulmate one day, and this day was a week away from you and you were scared. It was scarier than anything to know that destiny was about to send you somebody in your life, that you didn't have the right to chose whoever you were about to spend the rest of your life with. Especially knowing that would mean stop everything you had with Roger at the moment.

It never was serious, since the very beginning everything was messy and friendly. You met him during a science class you had together and you got paired up together for the assignment, from there your adventure began with Roger, Queen and Cie. He introduced you to his friends, the whole band and some of his best friends in his course, and you really liked them all. But you had a soft spot for Freddie who enjoyed seeing your work; you were a seamstress in your spare time and seeing that a man cared this much about sparkles and everything you did with any sort of fabric was refreshing since you weren't surrounded by artist on daily basis before meeting Roger. And you made some pieces for him, for the band, matching Roger's luxurious hair and his beautiful eyes.

You liked to kiss Roger in the dark, after their gigs, sitting on his lap and running your fingers through his hair as he was drinking a beer. Both of you knew it wasn't exclusive, and you weren't afraid of being at the center of attention, seen and looked at as Roger's “side chick”; mostly because you knew better than them what was happening between the two of you. Even if everybody was telling you that he would break your heart, you knew he wouldn't because at the moment that wasn't what you were looking for, not for love. You weren't looking for more, and the both closed the “love” door because you knew that all of this was fun, and nothing else.

You never spoke about your soulmate fate, even when it became alarming to the point that you couldn't sleep at night. You never wanted to know anything about other's soulmates, neither to talk about your own. The clock was still ticking, others were finding their love, and you were there, with your friendlier than he should be friend Roger. And somehow, when you were with him, you didn't think about the ticking clock and the moment you would meet your soulmate because Roger made you feel nice, understood and above all liked, or even loved for who you were, not for a bunch of numbers on his hidden wrist.

“Y/n,” he whispered as you were laying on his stomach and his fingers were playing with your hair, and you only hummed to let him know that you were listening to him. “I'll be meeting my soulmate soon.”

“Oh,” you said and put your hand up on his. You didn't like talking about all of this, and he knew this, but the situation had to be desperately bad for him to talk about it with you.

“I know you don't want to talk about this soulmate shit but... I don't know what to do y/n, it's like... I don't want it to happen, but it still will and... Fuck, I know it will make things complicated between us.”

“You have no idea how I hate this soulmate shit,” you replied and sighed right after. “I'm fine with being your friend Rog, no problem. We both know that it's... Temporary. And we both are, you know, free spirits.”

“You should stop hanging out with Freddie so much,” he teased you and you turned on your stomach to face him and pouted and frowned. “See? He has an influence on you.”

“Says the one sharing clothes with him.”

“Mrs. Seamstress isn't happy?”

“Fuck off,” you said adding too much o's to the word and he smirked.

“Hope this soulmate won't change shit,” he said as he put his hand against your cheek.

~~~~

Today was the day. You wanted to know who was the lucky one to take you home after that gig, your soulmate, the one your friends at university were talking about endlessly not knowing that you were about to meet him. In a few minutes. It was one of the Queen's gigs night, and as fate wished you accepted to go out, to be seen and to be looked for by a total stranger who was about to become the love of your life. You were shaking, your eyes wandering from left to right before, during and even right after the Queen's show ended and the speakers began to blast some music in your ears.

Whoever thought that looking for their soulmate was a fun activity was wrong, absolutely and definitely wrong.

You looked at your wrist another time, one of the hundreds of times you already watched your wrist during that day, during that gig and during your time at the bar looking for them. You didn't want more, you never wanted to open the door for some love, especially for an unknown soul. What you had with Roger was sufficient, you knew that what you shared was above what you could have expected from a relationship. You shared laughs and secrets, you exchanged kisses and ideas, and even if your friends told you that you shouldn't be that close to him you wanted to have what yo actually had with him at that moment. But your soulmate was about to enter your life now, and you just refused to let Roger go, even if you knew that you had to. A few minutes were left and you were circling the edge of your glass with your index while sitting at the bar. And then, you felt a hand on your shoulder, and your heart almost missed a beat. You turned around. It was Roger. It wasn't the time yet. You felt happy, yet disappointed.

“Not expecting me,” he teased you and you rolled your eyes and made some room for him at the bar.

“I was just thinking that a gorgeous person was trying to flirt with me, I was just wrong,” you wittily replied and he ordered himself a pint.

“Glad to be that person then,” he outsmarted you before you looked at your wrist again. Only a few minutes. “Stressed?”

“About?”

“I don't know, you're acting strange today,” he remarked and before you could truly come up with an answer to that the bartender pushed the pint in front of him and Roger took a sip from it. “Crazy day.”

“You said that,” you sighed. “But yeah, crazy and shitty day probably.”

“I had high expectations for today's gig.”

“Same on my side.”

And the silence weighted on your shoulders at that very moment, because you felt that your soulmate was truly close to you; but you didn't want to tell Roger about that, you refused to make things even more awkward. So you kept your mouth shut, sipping your drink from time to time while he looked at you from time to time.

A few seconds were left, merely ten, and you felt your heart race as if you were about to explode. You were afraid of falling in love, and you knew it now. You weren't afraid of a lot of things, not of all the attention, not of running wild and not even of scary movies, but afraid of love. You closed your eyes, thinking about what was about to happen to you, butterflies all over your stomach and you heard your name coming from Roger's lips. And when you opened your eyes, you felt a spark, you saw it, you felt his lips against yours and the butterflies on your stomach were already flying away. His hands were holding your cheeks, and you noticed his wrist shining bright, yours was itching. And when he pulled away, you noticed that your wrist was shining too.

"This was't planned at all," you whispered, still not believing what was happening.

"I like how it turned out," he replied and brushed the back of his hand against your cheek.

He was your soulmate, but you had to find yourselves first, convince yourselves that you were made for each other, from the very beginning.

[cats-obsessions]

Mark Your Love in Ink

A geraskier soulmates au

Part one - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Rating: T

Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier

Read on ao3

Summary:

Jaskier has always known he has a soulmate. The ink of tattoos have been appearing on his skin since he was born. He spends his whole life wondering who they are, what they'll be like. When he's eighteen, he gets a tattoo to let them know he exists, but there's no response. Three years later, Jaskier begins to wonder if he'll ever meet them at all. Funny how fate has a way of bringing people together.

-----------------------

Jaskier always knew. There was not a second of his life that he hadn’t known he had a soulmate. He was born with the silhouette of a wolf on his ribs. At first, it looked like a blotched birthmark, but after a few years, the shape became clearer. His parents had wondered if he was cursed, but after a visit to an herbalist and a pellar, it was clear it was just a tattoo- the mark of a soulmate.

Something about the purposeful act of marking one’s skin was transferred through the bond. Other things like piercing and scars weren’t shared. Most say that’s because damage is rarely chosen, but who really knows?

Not everyone has a soulmate, but some do- people scattered across the world that their souls are bound to. No amount of space or time can separate them, nor can simple magic remove the bond. Its furiously romantic, at least Jaskier had always thought so.

It was entrenched in their society; people going as far back in time as tattoos themselves wrote of marking themselves when they came of age in hopes of finding another meant for them by fate itself.

The ink appearing across his skin over time sparked as much curiosity as excitement. There were questions, whispered between his parents when they thought he couldn’t hear, musings and worries. Why were the marks appearing at such a young age? What kind of scallion would have all these tattoos? Do they not know they affect someone else? Will he be able to get a job with his markings? Jaskier always rolled his eyes at that one.

They made him cover up, shoved him in turtle necks and long-sleeved shirts even through the sweltering summers. The more he got, the more ashamed his parents became, but Jaskier only felt more of a thrill. They were beautiful, too- tastefully placed and clearly done by good artists. Though he was always most fond of the wolf, he loved each of them: a large arch-griffon showed up on his bicep in middle school, some Latin quote on his chest his senior year, the skull of something very inhuman on his calf in college- a leshen, he thinks.

There weren’t too many, and they seemed to revolve around the fantastical world of monsters and myth- the types of things that were rare in this world. They still existed, but humans had driven many innocent creatures to extinction.

That was another point of contention with his parents, though most things were. It wasn’t a surprise when Jaskier left at the age of sixteen, flying across the continent and enrolling in Oxenfurt University. Two years later was when he got his first tattoo- he thought of himself as pretty clever for it, too.

---------

It’s late autumn when Geralt sees it.

He wakes up late, the wind howling outside against the rickety windows of his apartment. He had dealt with a drowner problem the night before. Of course, the contractor he was working for said it was only a few when it ended up being at least a dozen. And of course, he was underpaid again. But it was work. The results of it, though, left him exhausted and sore from the unexpected battle. He stumbles into the little, dimly lit bathroom to take a shower, pulling his shirt over his head as he does so.

Stark black lines stand out against his pale skin below the wolf on his ribs. It’s a phone number. Above it are the little words “call me” embellished with a heart.

Fuck.

He feels like he’s on fire, that hot sensation in his cheeks he’d recognize as blush- if he could blush. Which he can’t, right? But there’s panic, too. How could this possibly be?! Witchers don’t have soulmates. Fuck, most people don’t think witchers have souls! And look at him, he’s given this person more than enough ink against their will. That thought makes him sick. Almost as sick as the thought of having a soulmate.

He doesn’t call. He doesn’t text. He doesn’t get another tattoo to offer an explanation or anything. He just ignores it, which isn’t that hard to do, really. It’s not in a terribly visible place, and if he keeps his eyes away from the mirror when he showers, he almost forgets about it. But he still feels it; every time he remembers it, it’s like fire burning a hole in his side, taunting him, reminding him someone out there is waiting for a prince charming, and he’s what they got.

---

Three years pass like that, Geralt ignoring the tattoos that pop up on his body from time to time, none of which cover the phone number. The other tattoos aren’t bad- even beautiful. He gets a set of flowers on his shoulder blade, lovely and shaded perfectly; a set of oddly specific music notes appear on his foot, though he doesn’t know what song they’re from; a songbird on his arm, adding to his collection perfectly; his favorite is a small minimalistic portrait of a wolf surrounded by yellow flowers that appears on his wrist one summer.

Late at night when he’s alone with his thoughts, Geralt lets himself imagine that they got that because of him- because of the first wolf tattoo he got. He lets himself think maybe they think of him fondly, associate the wolf with him, and chose to put that tattoo in such a visible place for him.

It’s not true, though, and he knows it.

Even if it were true, they would change their mind if they knew him- knew what he is.

--

He gets a contract to clear out the warehouses on the edge of the city, deep within the less savory parts of town. Here, humans are more likely a danger than monsters, but still, some do stalk the streets, especially late at night.

The man that hired him said he didn’t know what beasts laid in his warehouse, simply that a worker had turned up dead with what looked like scratch marks, time of death estimated around midnight. Blind jobs were always the worst. If the man died at midnight, Geralt will have to wait until then to approach as some creatures only transformed or showed themselves deep into the night.

He decides to kill time at a local bar in preparation. He has never been here before, some odd little college bar, but the food smells good and they have alcohol; nothing else matters.

He sits by himself, running through his list of things he needs to do this week as he waits for his food- maybe he should buy Roach a new toy if this pays well… his eyes shift to wander around the room and take note of the patrons. They’re the usual, grungy broke college kids and people with drinking problems. There’s an alarming overlap between the groups. Then, his eyes shift to where a single musician is setting up for live music.

He looks young; soft hair frames his boyish face with big blue eyes. He’s bright: bright smile, bright eyes, bright clothing- he wears a denim jacket with far too many buttons and patches stuck to it, a colorful floral T-shirt underneath, too tight black jeans, and are those white converse hand-painted with yet more flowers. The kids are still doing that?

Yet, as he begins to sing, Geralt can’t help but keep glancing at him. A song or two go by; his voice is lovely, deeper than he had expected, and it gets harder and harder to look away. It’s a ballad that really captures the witcher’s attention. It’s sad and lonesome, singing about longing for love. Something about it weighs heavy on his heart.

“They say love is mankind’s greatest joy/

But what if I can never find you?”

When the waitress comes by with his food, Geralt finds he doesn’t even glance at her, somehow transfixed by the young man’s singing. His singing is magical. Of course, Geralt knows it’s not literally magical, but it has been a long time since he’s felt drawn to someone like this- if ever.

The song ends and the singer shifts to something more upbeat, some attempted crowd-pleaser, and Geralt shakes the feeling off. He returns his focus to his meal, scrolling through mindless nothings on his phone.

--

When Jaskier finishes his last set, only a few claps can be heard throughout the bar. One asshole says a little too loudly “He’s finally done!”. He sighs in defeat, but this isn’t exactly the live music kinda bar. It’s… actually gross. The floors are awfully sticky. If only he could get a spot in one of the better venues in town, then maybe he could get a break. But music is competitive here.

None of that matters when his eyes lock on the mysterious and gorgeous man brooding in the corner of the bar. He seems to be the strong silent type, sitting alone with his food and an empty beer. He has long white hair, pulled half up. T-shirt under, leather jacket, and are those biker boots? He looks like trouble- no, he looks like danger and heartbreak, and exactly what Jaskier needs in his life.

The musician snags two beers off a waitress’s platter, ignoring her fussing as he moves in closer toward the man.

“As a musician, patrons are typically supposed to offer me free drinks, but I figured I’d make an exception this once.” He says, placing the darker beer in front of the man, hoping he got his preferences right.

He seems to ponder it for a moment, breathtaking golden eyes assessing the beer, then Jaskier. Finally, the man accepts it, taking a long drink before scooting his basket of French fries towards Jaskier “Would the starving artist like a fry?” His voice is deep and gravely and perfect.

“Who said I was starving?” He grins, though he does take a fry, quite happily.

The man ‘Hm’s at him, thoughtful, yet somehow playful “Must be if you’re playing in a dump like this.”

“Fair enough,” Jaskier smiles- or, continues to smile. “I’m Jaskier, by the way.”

His companion doesn’t reply immediately, eventually responding “Geralt.”

“So, Geralt, you know I’m a starving artist. What do you do?”

That seems to entertain him as Geralt quirks an eyebrow at him, a sly smirk on his face. “You don’t know, do you?”

Jaskier scrunches his eyebrows together “That’s why I’m asking?”

Geralt huffs amusedly “Call it security.”

“For shitty bars?”

“No.”

Jaskier fakes a pout, fluttering his eyelashes “Aw, and I had already been planning to come back to see you.” He watches as Geralt rolls his eyes- his golden… cat eyes. In the dim lighting of the bar, his pupils had been big enough to seem round, but Jaskier notices them contract slightly, forming something more adjacent to slivers. And suddenly, it makes sense. His hair, the medallion around his neck, the brooding- the musician gasps “You’re a witcher!” he says, almost giddy with excitement.

There’s nothing meek about Geralt in the slightest. Yet, for a moment he looks as though he wants to crawl under the table. It doesn’t bother Jaskier, though, who is nearly grinning ear to ear “Oh, how wonderful! Tell me everything,” he demands, leaning farther across the table.

Geralt gazes at him quizzically, actually surprised by his reaction “Not really supposed to share details with strangers.”

“Ah, you probably don’t want to talk about work, anyways. Perhaps another time,” he adds slyly. The witcher does not offer to redirect the conversation, seemingly content with his silence. Though, he doesn’t object when Jaskier snags more of his fries. The musician goes as far as leaning across the table to dip them in the little container of ketchup Geralt has sitting in front of him. That’s when he notices the squiggly outlines of black on Geralt’s arm, just barely showing under the cusp of his sleeve.

“Oh, you have tattoos,” Jaskier points out cheerily.

He had expected Geralt to offer to show him, but he only gets an affirmative “Hm,”

“I love tattoos!” he pushes “I only have a few myself, but I always want more. They’re addictive, you know. Can I see them?”

“Fine.” Geralt says as if it were a burden, but he sees him smirk, however subtle. Ah, so Jaskier chose the right topic, after all.

He watches a little too closely as Geralt shucks off the leather jacket. At first, Jaskier focuses on his muscles- gods he’s muscular. It almost looks like he’s going to rip his shirt, the way the fabric strains as he pushes off his jacket. But then, with his arms showing, Jaskier’s eyes freeze on the tattoos- the familiar arch-Griffin, his wolf with flowers, the swallow. Jaskier’s tattoos. And suddenly he feels like he can’t think, can’t process what’s going on. The sound of the bar patrons in the background all but drowns out to the pounding of his heartbeat.

Jaskier opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He closes it, then tries again. “Why didn’t you call me, you prick?!” Jaskier exclaims, nearly jumping over the table with the way he’s out of his seat in an instant, the chair making a loud squeak against the hard floor as a result. A few people turn to look at them, but he doesn’t notice.

He thought his plan was foolproof, thought for sure that his soulmate would call, and when they didn’t, the tattoos stopped too. It was the worst feeling Jaskier had ever experienced. He doesn’t know how long or how much he cried. He thought they might have died!

“Do you know I had to pay a hundred dollars to keep that phone number last time I switched phone providers? Just in case you called!” Jaskier fusses, though that really probably shouldn’t be what he’s most concerned about right now.

“What are you talking about?” Geralt asks, voice suddenly cold and harsh.

Jaskier rushes to push his jacket sleeves up, hands shaking with anticipation. However, when his tattoos, and heart, are finally bared to the witcher, he recoils.

“We’re soulmates, bounded by fate!” Jaskier beams, hoping his excitement will rub off on the other man. “I’ve been waiting forever to meet you.”

“I don’t believe in fate.”

The words are flat and dull, said as though they weren’t crushing. Jaskier tries not to take it personally. A lot of people are frightened when they meet their soulmate. And- well, Geralt’s a witcher. They’re notorious for being loners.

Still, he pushes. “Come on, we’re connected for a reason.”

“No, we’re not” Geralt barks back with a frown. He’s on his feet in an instant, digging through his wallet and throwing down some bills on the table. He’s tall. Oh, heavens he’s even taller than Jaskier, only by a little, but his broadness makes it more obvious. Jaskier barely has time to register what’s happening before the witcher is walking away from him, strides heavy, confident, and broody. Of course, he got the broody one.

He doesn’t let his soulmate’s negativity deter him, though. Jaskier throws his guitar over his shoulder and scuttles after Geralt.

--

The cold night air should be refreshing. It should help him clear his mind but hearing the boy’s hurried footsteps and thundering heart behind him does little to calm Geralt. It had been fine, just a bit of non-committal flirting and a free beer until tattoos came into play. He hadn’t thought anything of it when Jaskier asked to see; it wasn’t the first time he’d had someone ask. He never expected to meet his ‘soulmate’ and especially not some college kid in a dive bar. If the adrenaline coming off Jaskier in tidal waves is anything to go by, he wasn’t expecting this either.

Speaking of the devil, Jaskier catches up with him, speaking much faster than before, all nerves and pent up energy. “Look, I’m not proposing to you right here and now. Hell, I’m not even asking you to hop back to my apartment for a celebratory romp- not that I would be opposed, regardless of the tattoos, but- oh, shit, you could be straight. Gods. I know it might be a lot. But we’re connected!”

“It’s just haphazard, faulty magic. Some people claim to see the future by sniffing cheese. Do you believe everything they say, too?” Geralt tries to reason with him- or with himself. He isn’t quite sure which one needs convincing more.

“I’m just asking to get to know you. As friends.”

“No. I don’t do friends.”

“That’s not fair. I’ve spent my whole life wondering who you are. I- gods it all makes sense now. You’re a witcher. You must be quite a bit older than me. I was born with a tattoo: the little wolf. My whole life I knew I had a soulmate, and all I ever wanted was to meet you, and now you’re pushing me away?!” his voice cracks on the last word, and Geralt feels the guilt shoot straight to his gut. “Just give me a chance.”

Geralt stops in his tracks, turning to face Jaskier. The sudden movement has the man tripping over his feet to come to a halt. “I’m sorry,” Geralt says finally.

Jaskier gawks at him, confusion evident on his face.

“If I had known, I would’ve never gotten all these tattoos. I’m sorry.” He reiterates “That must have been rough.”

“Is that why you stopped getting them after I got one?” Jaskier murmurs. The way he looks at Geralt with those round eyes makes his stomach churning. It’s like he can communicate every emotion so clearly through a glance- pain, hurt, hope… Geralt nods, and the rawness of the moment is gone in an instant, replaced by Jaskier’s confident prattling once more.

“While I admit, most people don’t start seeing tattoos until they’re in high school at the earliest, I never resented them. I adore them- really. I suppose I’m quite fortunate. You have fantastic taste in tattoos.” He grins

That makes Geralt smile, just in the slightest, but it’s gone as soon as it appeared. “I’m not the kind of person someone like you wants to be around.”

“But I do.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“And you don’t know me. I want to change that. That’s all I’m asking.”

Geralt breathes in deeply, holding it in for a second before releasing and allowing the tension in his shoulders to subside. It's his habitual method of getting ahold of his stress, but it has the inadvertent effect of inundating him with Jaskier’s scent; he smells like flowers, a combination of some cologne and his naturally sweet smell, something Geralt wishes he didn’t notice.

What options does he really have? He’s already marked up the boy’s skin. What kind of man just walks away from that? He gets the feeling that if he did, it wouldn’t be the last he would see of Jaskier- seems like a persistent bugger. Maybe one conversation would sate his curiosity enough to drive him away.

Finally, he speaks “I have two hours, then I have to go to work. What did you have in mind?” Before Jaskier can open his mouth, he adds “Somewhere public.”

“Of course, of course- I would never threaten your honor.” Jaskier chuckles, “I know a place not too far from here that serves boozy milkshakes,” he offers.

“Fine.”

[6v6taeminisloveshineeworld]

Champagne Life Is All You Want

Word Count: 15.7k+ 

Genre: Romance, Idol/Hoop Aerialist AU, Smut, Cirque Du Soleil vibes, Gatsby Flair

Summary: It’s simple, love for luxury. You've lived this way for a long time. True love only existed in fables but after hitting a complete stranger with a car that isn’t even yours you find out that your new victim’s name is Lee Taemin and he has fallen hard into your web of deception that allows you to live the life of expensive pleasures that you always seem to swindle from your clients. The truth will break his heart, are you only in it for the money or have you begun to fall as well?

Pairing: Taemin X Reader

Warning: Contains mentions of Abuse, Blood, Sexual, and Suggestive content, as well as some foul language. This material is only a work of fiction and does not mean to defame living persons.

Taglist: @slavefortaemin

The hood of your newly stolen yellow convertible was down and you felt the breeze of autumn as you drove through the back roads of Aureus and into the less reputable parts of town. 

You had lived in New Celes for the majority of your life and while most of your childhood years were spent in the Underground as the daughter of the most infamous crime groupe known as the Scarlet Wolf who were known to possess the heightened senses of sound, speed, and strength, you’d left them only to climb yourself from the gutter and into posh society with your charm. 

There was a reason New Celes was coined the City Of Heavenly Desire, it’s nightlife was vibrant and it’s nobility spared no expense, leaving the less fortunate to look on with jealousy as they wasted their wealth frivolously. You’d survive the only way you could. With a father who’d sooner leave you in the streets because you proved to be a weak runt according to the standards of the pack you left the gang and found yourself at your wits end. You would have died on your own had it not been for the Matron of Muldale Estate.

 The streets had been dark and unforgiving with lights only at the most populated corners and filled with people of ill repute. The Matron had found you frozen and half dead but still filled with a spirit that would not be extinguished. She took you to her estate, clothed you and fed you and in time you came to know the girls who lived there. 

The women of Muldale Estate were prostitutes, or as they liked to be called “courtesans.” Their Matron, Madame Felicity Dupont loved the sound of her own voice. 

When the Matron asked you to stay long ago you had thought you’d known just what you were getting yourself into and you promised yourself that it was only a temporary home. Now fifteen years later you knew you weren’t the same naive girl you had been before. Love was a mirage of deception and endless hoops. Love was only given if you gave in return even if it cost you your body and not your heart. 

Dupont showered her girls In pretty gowns and diamonds and sold them off to the highest bidder but at the end of the day when you couldn’t wash off the scent of your clients’ perfume, you felt more like a shadow than a human. 

Andre de Valois, the man who owned the car you drove now had been sadistic and cruel but he was very influential to Dupont. His wealth alone financed a quarter of the Matron’s income and that would have been fine if not for the fact that he only ever choose you. 

His possessive nature had grown so strong it frightened you and when he made it clear that he wanted Dupont to sign you away to an exclusive contract with him he was not pleased when you rejected him. Far from it. 

He was always used to having his way and the evening had ended badly to say the least with you landing a punch to his jaw and fleeing out the door taking his keys with you. Now driving carelessly fast downtown with tears ruining your mascara it was no wonder to find you had hit something. Or was it someone? You frantically unfastened your seat belt and stepped out of the car shakily to find a man passed out in front of the car. 

“Oh my god!” You said, rushing over to the man and turning him to the side to face you as you leaned down to check his pulse. 

You let out a sigh of relief when you felt his breath against your cheek. His lithe body rising and falling as you rested your palm on his firm chest. 

His features looked familiar somehow but you dismissed it from your mind as you agonized over the fact that his forehead was bleeding slightly and you were in the middle of an unwelcoming neighborhood with no license and a stolen vehicle. If this man pressed charges you were done for and it wasn’t for fear that you’d get locked up, but rather that you would be found and taken back that terrified you.

You took the end of your scarf in hand and started to clean the blood away, the man’s features becoming more noticeable as you moved his dark brown hair out of his eyes and all too soon you recognized the man before you as Lee Taemin, the idol of the Ten Rings Circus, more commonly known as the “Night Circus” and one of the wealthiest most well-known artists in New Celes. 

Fate loved to play games with your soul it seemed and she had a twisted sense of humor. 

If anyone could save you from Dupont’s dismissal and Andre’s rage it would be the unconscious man before you. 

Just then Taemin started to stir and you gave him your most concerned expression. Wide eyes and red lips pursed in a frown. Your smudged mascara only adding to your look of distress.

“Are you alright?” You said gently, careful to keep your distance from him in case he lashed out but close enough to look him in the eyes. 

You were surprised when warm brown eyes meet yours. You’d only seen those eyes in posters and magazines, he had always looked too stoic, too unapproachable to imagine ever meeting. 

“I’m fine,” he said sitting up slowly and looking at your car inches from him. 

You let out an audible sigh of relief that he hadn’t hit his head as badly as you’d initially thought. 

“But what about you? Are you alright? You were in such a hurry. Are you running away from something?” He said with a knowing look in his eyes as he took in your disheveled appearance. 

“No, it’s nothing.” You said brushing his words aside and getting to your feet. You felt a stab of guilt for wanting to use him as an easy escape moments before. Even though he was a complete stranger he was showing you compassion instead of anger, concern instead of annoyance. 

Somehow you knew taking his hand would be alright, but when you reached for it a strong wind blew away the scarf you had carelessly replaced over your neck before he’d woken, revealing Andre’s fingerprints on your skin. 

“How did you get that! Who did that to you?” He said in surprise, coming closer only to have you quickly move away out of habit as if he would strike you. 

 “It’s none of your business,” you said placing your hands around your shoulders protectively. He stepped back when he noticed you were uncomfortable and it genuinely touched you that he seemed to care. You’d grown used to seeing marks on your body, at this point, it was a part of life that faded just like a hundred nights worth of memories too painful to recollect.

Maybe it was the way he looked at you that made you confess these next words, maybe it was just your selfish greed that clung to you like a vise but you found yourself unable to continue your charade anymore. You were tired of pretending, and maybe just maybe, you could tell he had already fallen for the woman who had run him over. 

“No, no I’m not fine.” You said sitting against the hood of the car and holding back tears. “I’m a courtesan of Muldale,” when he nodded in understanding you continued. “My client… well he won’t be seeing me anymore I left him and if the Madam found out I was leaving her service before my time she’ll have the officials come and find me. My client is very wealthy you see and she couldn’t stand to lose-”

“How far along are you on your Emblem till your debt is paid?” He said determination in his voice. 

You looked up at him, eyes wide. Once again he’d surprised you. He seemed to be knowledgeable enough in the trade to know that the women of Muldale all had debts to pay to their Madame and that she kept count of their progress by marking them with a tattoo called an emblem. The emblem was of their own design choice from a limited selection but it was always along the back in a circle and once that circle was completed you were free to leave. 

“I owe a life debt to her, my Emblem is less than halfway through.” 

“I’ll pay it for you.” He said it so quickly that you were certain this had to be a dream.

“What do I owe you in return?” You answered just as quickly. You didn’t hide the distrust in your tone. “Nothing is free in this world.”

“You’re right,” he looked regretful of his next words but continued anyway. “If I pay for your Emblem will agree to pretend to be my fiancee?” You scoff, shaking your head but internally you are delighted. It would seem that your plan was going better than expected. You turned around and acted as if you were making your way back to the car before he stopped you with a light touch at the elbow.

“Hear me out-”

“You don’t even know me.” 

“I know it’s a crazy idea but I’m in a situation that I don't want to be in right now-

“Aren’t we all,” you said with a laugh.

“Yes, but I am constantly confronted with marriage proposals and one of these days I’m afraid the family I am indebted to will force me into an agreement.” He could have said anything else but this was the last thing you’d expected.

“You’re Lee Taemin, Shining Star of the Night Circus! If anyone had the power to say no it would be you.” 

He ducked his head when you mentioned his title, red blooming on the tips of his ears. “The Night Circus is not what posters would have you believe,” He said. “You and I are more alike than you know. The things I’ve had to do to make my way to the top. I owe that family everything for bringing me from the gutter to the spotlight.” 

His words cut like a fresh wound. Nothing in the glittering world of New Celes was ever what it appeared on the surface and if even it’s young gods walked their lives on burning coals well, nowhere was safe. 

“I’ll do it.” You said.

“Really?” He gave you the widest smile and suddenly you wondered if being indebted to this beautiful man was more dangerous than belonging to Andre.

“What’s your name,” he said the instant you were both in the car. You started the engine and made the turn back to Muldale Estate. You were silent for a few minutes till you finally said in a whisper,  “Call me Lady Basileia, everyone else does.” Like your old life, your true name had also been lost to you, and if you knew anything for certain it was the fact that there was no reclaiming it. 

Dupont was furious. Andre’s wrath was nothing in comparison to the lady’s words. “I’ve clothed you, I took you in from the streets when you were nothing and this is how you repay me! Go back to the Comte de Valois and beg on your knees for him to take you back.” Dupont was about to grab you by the hair before Taemin grasped her wrist, holding her back. You’d told him to stay outside but it seemed you wouldn’t have an easy time getting him to listen. 

“Mademoiselle Basileia will beg no one, Madame Dupont,” Taemin said from behind her. “She is a free woman from this day forward I will pay her Emblem price.”

A small collective gasp could be heard from the ladies who were listening in against the door-frame. Their palpable excitement grew hushed when Dupont swore at them.

Dupont laughed coldly before she said, “Young man, take your fanciful ideas elsewhere. You wouldn’t be able to buy a single night with her much less ten years wor-

Taemin faced her and she paled, her eyes widening as she too recognized him. 

“I beg your pardon, my lord. I did not know-”

“Mademoiselle Basileia and I are in a hurry,” he said.

Dupont gaped at you before suddenly tripping over herself to call in for some tea. When Taemin declined her offer and suggested they get right to business and that he would pay her in full she directed him to her office and left you to collect your things. 

Emilie was the first of the ladies to approach you. As soon as you sank into a tub of hot water she came to sit on the ledge and scrub your back with a sponge, her touch was gentle at the nape of your neck as she seemed to want to wash away William’s scars. “Is he kind to you? Lord Taemin, I mean. Or is he cold, like the pictures I’ve seen of him?” Just as you were about to answer the door flung open.

“Who cares Emilie!” Agatha said coming into the room with a stack of fresh towels. “He’s rich, richer than Andre. Only the best for Lady Basileia,” Agatha said, jealousy laced in her voice. “We could never compete with that.”

“Wealth is not everything Agatha!” Lily said coming into the room to join them, her cheeks were flushed and her buoyant voice ever-cheerful no matter her situation. If it hadn’t been for Lily and her optimism you thought you wouldn’t have survived your days here. Of everyone at Muldale, she was perhaps the only one who still believed in love and she was quite the romantic. Her imagination often kept the ladies entertained, and her short works of fiction were often shared at sleepless hours. 

“I can’t believe you met the Ice Fairy by chance!” Lily said taking Emilie’s place beside you. “I saw him go into Madam’s office and he is even more handsome in person than his portraits. It was fate Basileia, fate! Did he see you with the Comte at his estate and decide that he had to have you for his own? Was he a friend of Andre? Or did he see you on the streets and you melted his heart of stone? They say he doesn’t have one you know, he’s turned down so many pretty women and of noble families too!”

“Well, I suppose you can say I ran him over…”

Later when you were dried off and in your bedroom, you searched through your things to find the plainest dress you could. Nothing here was your own and other than the handful of letters from the ladies and Emilie’s handmade bracelet as a gift on your twentieth birthday you left everything else and closed the door behind you. 

Half an hour later you found yourself laying on your stomach in the tattoo parlor close to Muldale estate. You winced as the inked needle met your back again. The tattoo artist knew of the girls from their countless visits. When you had walked into the shop and declared that your entire Emblem be finished he’d been shocked but you could see the excitement in his eyes. Most girls picked the design for their emblem but you had let Eddie do whatever he wanted and as it turned out your back was his own personal masterpiece or that’s how he felt at least and you had to agree he didn’t waste his imagination when it came to his attention to detail.

 Eddie turned the open sign around and started right away, completing his design in a total of five hours. Every second had been worth it though you thought as he held a mirror up to your back and you saw yourself in the mirror in front. A flower time dial was beautifully etched into your back, primroses, cherry blossoms, roses, and lilacs. They weren't in color but they seemed alive and each stroke of ink depicted an emotion, from how the petals tilted toward the imaginary sun to how they wilted. 

“Thank you, Eddie, I love it.” He beamed at you and you felt the pride in him swell and his heart soar. Sometimes pain and pleasure really did walk hand in hand. 

It was late the next day when you reached the heart of Aureus, at some point you had let Taemin drive the car he rented after he insisted that you leave Andre’s car at Muldale where Dupont could return it to him. The nightlife here was even more vibrant than you remembered. In fact, if you were being honest you knew nothing of the high-end brothels and drinking taverns of New Celes, only the pompous champagne-soaked floors of dancing halls that Andre and other clients had brought you too, hoping to seduce you with charm and sophistication. No, the Night Circus it seemed was something different, something in between. Your heart raced a bit more excitedly as you read the giant billboard up ahead Our Aim Is To Please You, it read in painted crimson letters, like blood upon the lily-white backdrop. 

Taemin parked and took your hand to guide you through the crowd and into the enormous red tent. You could hear the music from within even from a distance, something akin to carnival music but more gentle. You could hear french horns and soft drums both haunting and sensuous. 

Before opening the tent flap Taemin leaned down and whispered, “The show is about to start soon. Ten will have my hide if I’m not backstage soon so make yourself comfortable in the audience.” You nodded at him before he disappeared into the crowd.  

It wasn’t long before the lights were dimmed and you squirmed in your seat as the young noblewoman beside you asked her manservant to attend her. She wore a diamond choker necklace at her throat and you caught the glint of silver on her left hand. The raven-haired manservant knelt at his mistress’s feet and lifted her skirts enough to engulf his head under. It wasn’t unusual for aristocracy to show their lewdness in public settings such as these. But you had to admit, you really hadn’t known anything about The Night Circus. 

The noblewoman's soft moans were covered by the sound of the now more vivacious orchestra and as the curtains of the stage began to rise, you forgot all about her. 

“Mesdames et messieurs,” the ringmaster bellowed. It was astonishing to see Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, more commonly known by the stage name of ‘Ten’ the ringmaster before you. He acquired the nickname when his family came into possession of the largest fortune in New Celes, taking over ten towns along the coast and placing circuses, hotels, and nightclubs in each of them. His family name was known as the “Gatsby of New Celes” and honestly half the continent. It was no wonder that Taemin had money practically spilling from his veins. With Ten as a benefactor he was set for life and you couldn't help but wonder why Taemin would want to risk the family’s anger by denying any marriage they set forth for him.

 “Allow us to entertain you tonight under the canopy of the moon.” Ten continued, “let us seduce your mind and captivate your soul. May I present le cirque nocturne!” The crowd roared with applause and with a flick of the ringmaster’s whip, the opening act began. 

A woman in a lilac leotard appeared on stage and moved her body in ways you hadn’t even known possible. Her contorted body seemed to tell a story, the music flowed without words but like a ballet, the woman moved with the melody. As more dancers appeared you began to make more sense of the plot. The story the woman danced to was of a siren who had lost her tail and moved upon land in odd yet graceful ways. She reminded you of a sparrow in a world of swans, awkward yet full of life. When the curtains closed on the act you stood in applause with the rest of the crowd. 

Next was a pair of tightrope walkers, it was a woman and a man painted in makeup that made them look like cats with whiskers and all. The woman balanced a parasol in one hand and the man a cane with a larger than normal curved end. You realized why that was so when the man circled the cane around the woman’s waist and the audience gasped in wonder at the girl’s perfect balance as she made her way across the rope and into her lover’s arms.

 The next set of dancers stood on swings as they twirled long ribbon batons in their hands and swept them over the crowds. Their short satin red dresses left  little to the imagination as they entwined with each other and leaped through the air, catching one another by the wrists.

There were more acts that seemed to pass in a blur, jugglers and fire breathers. Your body grew heated with the number of people in the tent as you waited for Taemin’s performance and you became impatient till finally, Ten spoke again, “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the act you have all been waiting for, our ravishing, shining, hoop aerialist, Lee Taemin!”

If the crowd had made any noise till that moment it was nothing compared to the deafening cries now. But as the curtains began to rise once more, everyone fell silent as if they were all holding their breath underwater, ready to be swept away.

Taemin was a sight to behold it was true and you could feel your pulse quicken ever so slightly as you took in the transformation before you. The man you arrived with seemed to be buried within this immorally captivating creation. He wore a black top hat with a half net across one side of his face and a shimmering silver and midnight blue leotard with sheer sleeves and a low neckline. His angelic figure and fair collarbone a teasing sight amidst all the tiny glittering diamonds sewn onto the fabric. The diamonds seemed to dance with the lights in the tent as Taemin moved his hands upwards towards the hoop hanging above him.

 He seemed to move with the music as you had never seen anyone move before. He was one with the melody like nature herself his gestures reminding you of water and wind. Once he reached the hoop his feet seemed to climb invisible stairs into the air till he was seated in the hoop and once more began to swivel and bend like falling water, tossing his hat aside as he went. His ankles caught the sides of the hoop as his head and body soared downwards. The transitions were seamless and watching the lithe muscles of his arms move as he grabbed the hoop and pulled himself up was hypnotic. You found yourself searching for his eyes and once they meet your own you felt yourself flush but were unable to look away. 

You knew now why they called him the fey king of ice and lust, his coal lined sultry stare seemed to undress you with a glance alone. He spun around the hoop like a snake till he stood upon the inner circle and then, oh gods above, he began to sing. You didn’t understand the words but by his tone, you could feel it was a song of deep longing and yet fragility as if the thing he yearned for lay far out of his reach or lay dead beneath the earth. His voice was both angel and devil, sweet as nectar and fatal as flame. He swung over the heads of the audience as he sang, the rope seeming to lengthen and glide along with him. He showered the spectators with diamonds from his costume as they loosened and fell like rain upon them. The audience’s applause spread through the crowd like wildfire and Taemin took a final bow before the curtains closed for the night and adoring fans threw roses and even entire bouquets to the empty stage as the lights in the tent brightened once again. 

Without a second thought, you hurried from your seat and slipped backstage determined to find Taemin and congratulate him on such a wonderful performance expecting to find him surrounded by fellow performers but instead, you found him backed against the wall, Ten’s arms caging him in with one hand beside his head and his whip in the other. You hid quickly behind a stage prop of what looked like an ancient Greek pillar, eyes widening as Ten tilted Taemin’s chin up with the tip of his whip, his eyes never leaving Taemin’s defiant gaze. 

“You needn't go through all this trouble over a harlot, mon tresor.” Ten said tracing his fingers against Taemin’s back. Taemin pulled away from his touch and Ten drew his hand away. 

“Others may mistake her for a fine noblewoman but you forget I have eyes everywhere, even in the lowest gutter of town. Why won’t you accept my offer? You could have so much more than this life, you would be a demigod among men with what I could give you.” Ten said taking Taemin’s hand to his lips and kissing his knuckles. 

“I’ve already visited the press with news of my new fiancee, Ten.” You won’t be able to quiet our engagement easily without causing a scene and disrupting your father’s trust. I am your family’s humble servant and nothing more.” Taemin said in a cold tone as he slipped from Ten’s grasp and into the changing room. 

Your mind was muddled with questions as you made your way back to the crowd unseen and waited for Taemin to find you.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself on the 20th floor of one of New Celes’s finest hotels run by Ten’s family of course. Taemin had a total of twelve rooms that all connected to one another. He led you to what you assumed was the guest room. The sheets were silk and there was a mahogany dresser with a beautiful matching vanity in the corner of the room, the edges of its mirror rimmed with gold. You moved to the window, moving the heavy curtains aside to take in the bustling night view of New Celes. You had to admit this offer was the best you’d ever had, although you felt a small stab of guilt for using Taemin in this way you found solace in the fact that he was also using you to run away from his own problems. “Wait,” you said, as Taemin walked toward the door to leave. He halted outside your door, his hand hovering over the doorknob. 

“Why did you lie to me?” You said turning from the window to face him. He looked puzzled at the statement so you continued. “I saw you with Ten, he seemed sincere, like he would give you anything if you agreed to be with him. Why would you refuse that?”

Taemin’s eyes darkened and he said briskly, “Don’t speak of what you do not understand.”

“It wasn’t a horde of girls I came here to shield you from but his advances wasn’t it.” You said coming closer, your voice matching his tone. “You think his obsession with you is a passing fancy? That he’ll soon tire of you with me around I gather or are you trying to make him jealous? What, is he not good enough for you? I know men and women would kill to have the place you have in his eyes. I won’t stay here and be put in danger! I won’t stand between the Chittaphon family and their desires, it would be like tying a noose around my own neck. Stop being stubborn and go to him-”

“Enough!” Taemin said shutting the door and coming to stand closer to you. “I’ll never crawl to that sick bastard even if he held a gun to my head.”

A look of pity crossed your features as you said, “Well if his being a man is what disgusts you so its nothing to be ashamed of. I once had a patron that was a woman-”

“That’s not the reason at all,” Taemin said interrupting you. His voice was composed once again and he seemed hesitant but continued. “You must tell no one you know of this but it’s Ten’s bloodstained hands and dirty money that disgusts me.”

Your eyes widened as you sat on the edge of the bed and waited for him to continue.

“All this wealth you see around you has come at a heavy price, the Chittaphon family have sold their souls for this luxury, the deaths of so many lay in their hands. The family makes most of their money in human trafficking and other despicable things. Ten is just as corrupt if not more so than his family. A flicker of sorrow crossed his eyes and then it was gone, replaced by ice once more. “We grew up together, it was no secret that we grew close to one another, I grew to love him and through the years I have seen him grow more and more twisted.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” You said a bit shaken at the realization that he knew some of your pain as well, knew how it felt to be shattered by the people you trusted the most. If your father had been a real father, if Andre had been an honorable man, you wouldn’t be here now seeking to console the dancer before you with an earnest hug. It would be hard to sleep in these sheets without thinking of the malicious lengths the owners had gone through to accumulate their wealth and it made your stomach turn. 

Perhaps it was the wine you drank before falling asleep but your dreams were persistently vivid. A russet wolf stalked you, it wasn’t hostile but it pursued you with relentless abandon. It never left your side, whenever you looked over your shoulder there it was yet you were not frightened. You were not frightened that was, until its scarlet eyes met yours, sending you a rush of memories you wished would stay buried. You woke with a scream on your lips, your throat felt dry and your hair damp with sweat. 

You slid from the bed and opened the mini-fridge in the small kitchenette of your room. Drinking an entire bottle of water and wiping your forehead with a cloth before slipping out of the room and into the master suite. Taemin’s room was right beside yours and you didn’t believe that was a mere coincidence. A candle was lit on the bedside table and you were greeted by his soft even breathing as you made your way to the enormous bed and climbed in beside him careful not to touch him. If it was a fiancee he had bargained for then it was one he would get. You turned your face away from his back and settled in to sleep but your eyes opened wide once more when you felt Taemin’s hand wrap around your shoulder in a gentle embrace as he turned to face your back and fell asleep once more. So maybe he had heard you awaken from your nightmare earlier you thought as your eyes grew heavy again and you fell asleep to the warmth of his touch and the thud of your heart.

You blinked as sunlight greeted you and you stretched, opening your eyes wider as you felt the absence of heat beside you and an empty pillow, your hands grazing over the indent in the fabric. Taemin was gone already, must have been since early this morning but his distinct scent still lingered, a combination of sweet oranges and heady cinnamon spice. You met the cold wooden floorboards against your bare feet with a groan as you made your way to the bathroom but a small young woman stopped you as you made your way to the tub.

“My name is Marguerite,” she said with a small curtsy. “Lord Taemin asked me to see to your needs m’lady. What minerals would you like in your bath?” 

“Oh, anything you like Marguerite I don’t mind truly.” You said moving out of her way so she could toss a few veils of lovely smelling soaps into the tub as she turned the hot water on. 

“How long have you been in Lord Taemin’s services?” You asked curiously. 

“Today is my first day m’lady, his lordship doesn’t keep many servants. Just the occasional cleaning maid. I expect he figured you’d be needing a handmaid.”

You nodded at this, touched that he’d thought so far ahead as to hire the girl already. You made a mental note to thank him later as you dipped into the warm water and watched the colorful bubbles that clung to your chest.   

The hotel breakfast was divine of course. Everything about the hotel was exquisite and filled with every out of season delicacy you could imagine. Grabbing an extra candied pear before you left the breakfast hall you decided to explore the grand hotel further. You made your way in and out of passageways and lobbies with sitting rooms and expensive carpets. But you wondered where the reception room for weddings and banquets must be. 

A hotel like this would have quite a few of them and sure enough, you came to a door that seemed close to the gardens. On the archway was a plaque that read Hall of Mirrors, you smiled at that. Of course, anyone who ran a circus would decide it a fitting name. You opened the heavy doors carefully and shut it behind you. Your eyes widened at the sight before you, you had never seen such wealth in one room alone. The hall was bathed in light, the sun shown through the many-windowed arches and reflected on the arches of mirrors just across. There were so many mirrors, more than three hundred if you could guess. the arches and walls all gleamed with their polished golden frames and elaborate craftsmanship. There were even mirrors that looked as if they belonged in a funhouse with odd shapes to them that disfigured your reflection. But most of them were tall and elegant. 

There was so much glass in the room you felt afraid to touch anything at all. Glass chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling and you wondered at the poor servant who lit the small white candles. This room in all its opulence reminded you of the photographs you’d seen of Versailles. This entire room was a show of power. You moved closer to the marble statue of what looked like Apollo riding his sun chariot. You ran the tip of your finger along the small stallions manes, fascinated by their detail.     

“My father thinks himself a god, Mademoiselle.” The voice startled you so that when you moved to turn around you’d cut yourself on one of the stallions sharply pointed ears. You stuck the pricked finger in your mouth to wipe away the blood as you stared at Ten before you. He looked straight through you at the statue before continuing, “Did you know there are eighteen figures alone in this hotel of Apollo? On fountains and vases.” He shook his head. “My father, the sun-god of business and opportunity.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have pried into your rooms.” You said, eager to getaway. I enjoyed the performance last night, it's a pleasure to meet you in person. My name is-”

“I know who you are Lady Basileia, the papers cannot help but jump at the chance to announce your presence.” 

“This banquet hall is very exquisite, do you hold weddings here?” Your heartbeat raced nervously but you kept a smile plastered on your face. Maybe if he bored of your small talk he’d excuse himself or throw you out even. 

“Why do you wish to know?” He said, looking at you as if for the first time. “Would you like to hold your wedding here?” Ten smiled in a mocking sort of way and he looked at you as if you were nothing but filth dragged in. “I’m afraid this sort of lavishness makes Taemin uncomfortable, there is no way your groom to be would agree to such a location. A pity really that such a humble man must deal with a fortune-hunting wench like you.” 

You didn’t dare break his gaze as you said, “If you’ll excuse me my fiance is waiting for me. I hope that our next meeting will be more pleasant. You gave him a small dignified curtsy and exited the room careful to walk entirely around him. You found your breath again only after you were a safe distance away from the hall and out of the hotel. 

You made your way to the red tent hoping to find Taemin and ask him to take you out to the city. You just needed to go anywhere else to get your mind off of your encounter and shopping was the perfect distraction. If all you were good for was spending money then you would do just that you thought bitterly. Ten had frightened you with his smile, the way his face seemed bright and youthful but his spirit dark in ways you didn’t want to imagine. He reminded you of Andre, the way he brought you down and made you feel as if you were truly nothing. 

 You still wore the only dress you owned and just because of Ten’s family dealings you weren’t going to stop yourself from using his money. The more you could spend before Taemin all of a sudden decided he’d had enough of his life here and was ready to flee his position in the circus the better. You didn’t plan on leaving with him if he did. You’d already left everything behind once in your life and being penniless again was not an idea you fancied. If you played your part well there wasn’t a soul besides Ten who would doubt your sincerity and that was payment enough in your mind. Taemin had given you a perfect opportunity to mingle with the highest of aristocracy here each night at the red tent and you weren’t going to pass up the chance to make some money of your own for your own sense of security. 

Trusting anyone and being indebted for life to anyone scared the hell out of you and even though Taemin seemed like some star-crossed spirit no matter how hard you tried to push the thought aside you weren’t about to trust in his motives anytime soon. The more his soul tugged at yours and the more your heart softened as you experienced his pain. When you spoke last night together it had frightened you and it did not change the fact that he was just human. A beautiful godlike figure but mortal nonetheless and people were prone to deception. 

You weren’t beyond using him as Ten had blatantly said, a deal was a deal after all and with every lingering touch and glance it was growing harder to ignore. As long as he didn’t muddle your interest in carnal pleasures for love you weren’t against it. In fact, it would probably be bliss to meet a passion so intense that it would make you forget Andre and his months of torment. A welcome distraction before parting ways in the future. 

Ducking under the tent flap you spotted Taemin immediately. He was impossible to miss, sitting center-stage in a gilded birdcage that took up almost the entire stage. He sat on the swing hanging down from the top of his golden prison like some exotic bird in a royal menagerie. You could imagine how extravagant the costuming would be that night for the show, A spectral of colorful feathers and brightly painted eyelids but you found a pleasurable peace in watching him with practice gear, the white full-bodied leotard hugging every curve of his body.

His voice was sweeter than any birdsong and you found yourself inexorably drawn to him as you went to sit in the front row to watch. This time his song told the story of fame and loss. Of a being so popular his lifeblood existed on stage. It was like listening to Taemin’s deepest worries while learning all at once that he wouldn’t give all of this up for anything. It seemed that you had misjudged him, he wasn’t a prisoner to this circus but a slave to himself and his never-ceasing desire to give his all in every performance, even in one like this that was just for practice. He may have started down this path because of his need and Ten’s family but his heart was also here and with his fans as if this was what he was born to do. When he finished singing you cheered louder than you had before, making up for the empty seats. He smiled at you and ducked as the other performers lifted the cage enough for him to slip under.

“You're just in time my love,” He said extending a hand to you and pulling you onstage. “I’d like to introduce you to my family.” It was clear that by family he meant the other performers. They gathered around you with curiosity as he said, “Everyone, this is my fiancee Mademoiselle Basileia that I have spoken to you of.” You nodded at them all in turn with a smile before they began to ask questions that you knew were coming. 

“Taem says you saved him! Is that true My Lady?” Said Valerie whom you remembered as the contortionist siren who had the opening act of the circus. Before you could answer a small middle-aged woman that you remembered faintly from the sidelines yesterday came bustling from backstage shouting, “Goddess be praised ye finally brought the lass over! I thought you would hide her away till the masquerade. The woman placed a glass of ice water in Taemin’s hands and kissed you on the cheeks. 

“This is Madame Orla,” Taemin said. 

“But you may call me Mother Orla,” she said taking your hand in her own. “Taemin, Yule is in less than two weeks, aren't ye going to take your future bride and buy her a gown for the ball. You know how ruffled the merchants get when you don’t give them dew notice! She’ll end up wearing some premade ill-fitting thing. She said in a chastising voice filled with love and amusement. 

It suddenly struck you that this Yule ball was not just any Winter Solstice gathering but rather the ball. The Chittaphons threw elaborate parties all year that was to be sure but their annual Yule Masquerade ball held in their own manor was unlike any other. It was almost magical in its limited guest list and famed extravagance and after your visit to the Hall of Mirrors, your mind could scarcely wrap around the idea of what their manor would look like. It was one of Lily’s favorite pastimes to write about one or all of the girls at Muldale attending, like Cinderella appearing at the palace. It hadn’t even occurred to you that you were now invited as Taemin’s fiancee to the event.  

 “Mother Orla, why don’t you give her a proper Sibylline greeting while I change. Taemin said kissing your forehead and further solidifying the ‘couple’ myth as the dancers tittered at his small show of affection. “Mother Orla is a seer,” He whispered into your ear before walking backstage. 

You didn’t believe in fortune-telling, it was all a play of lucky guesses and pretty lies that the client wanted to hear but you pushed these thoughts aside and decided to indulge Orla as she lead you with her to sit in a small round table backstage. 

“I read palms,” Orla said. “In palmistry, the lines of your passive hand signifies what you were born with and the attributes the gods have given you while your dominant hand signifies what you have done with that potential and the choices you choose to make. May I?” She said gesturing to your dominant hand. You gave it to her gingerly, your palm faced up and resting in her gentle hands as she skidded her fingers along yours and studied the line that rested at the top of your palm and ended under your pinky finger. 

“Well, your heart line starts below your middle finger. This suggests that you are a leader who is independent and you have a keen sense of intellect. However, this intelligence indicates that you combine romance with rationality and careful calculation.” She frowned before continuing, “ You are selfish with your love and quite materialistic, you are not happy unless you control your surroundings and this leads you to act coldly towards others.” Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, a bit taken aback by the honesty of her words. “See the way your love line is forked with indecision form your brain and heart at war with each other?” You nodded, actually agreeing with her on this point. Love was illogical to you and suffocating, it made you feel trapped. “Yet your heart longs for freedom as well, perhaps from your past, you are much like a lone she-wolf lass, stubborn as a mule but hungry for passion. If you aren’t careful your stubbornness will devour you and lead to the capture of your free spirit, found by the hunter that you fear.” You shuttered then at the comparison as you remembered the wolf in your nightmare. Perhaps the wolf was you and the hunter in this fable your father, the connection was clear and unavoidable. 

Orla moved on, paying attention to the line that ran down the center of your palm. “You may find this news more promising. Your Fate Line shows your talent in creating relationships even if they are imbalanced by personal gain. You will have someone faithful to you, a helpmate to strengthen your personal ties and belief in trust. But be warned, if you remain distrustful your life will be a lonely path indeed.” Orla said, utter seriousness in her tone. You pulled your hand away not looking her in the eye. 

“Well, what do the stars say of our love Orla?” Taemin said as he came towards them dressed in plaid red pants, black boots, and a black and white jacket that somehow fit together marvelously. 

“It was by fate that your soul encountered hers, I believe you will be her salvation if trust blooms and she your downfall should it crumble,” Orla told him solemnly. 

Taemin took your arm and entwined it with his. “Thank you for the reading Orla,” Taemin said brushing aside her grim account with a sideways smile. “But I believe Basileia and I have a way of steering fate in our favor.” You bowed your head as a thank you for the reading and left the tent with him. You didn’t turn around even as you felt Orla’s eyes pierced your back.

It was a short drive into the bustling city. The heart of New Celes was alight with Yuletide celebration. Trees were decorated in colored lights and wreaths were hung in every shop. Taemin brought you to a woman’s clothing store filled with elaborate day gowns and business slacks, helping you pick out a few and waiting by the fitting room as you tried on the ones you liked. You modeled a few for him, spinning around in slow circles as he watched the way the fabric cascaded down your legs and hugged your hips. 

He found a pair of gold-rimmed heels and knelt to the floor, you lifted your skirt and he slipped them onto your feet, avoiding contact as he did so. Watching his gentle hands against the heel brought a pang of annoyance to your chest. He was so careful with you, so distant, so cold.

“I believe these will be perfect for the masked ball,” Taemin said rising from the floor. You nodded and turned away to head back to the fitting room, your cheeks felt hot and you were ready to take the damn long dress off. You didn’t like the way it dragged across the floor no sooner had you thought it then you tripped over the fabric and tumbled off the mirrored platform. He was there in an instant, catching you by the shoulders and breaking your fall. You looked up at him, his face closer than it ever had been, even in sleep he’d kept at a distance. But now you felt his chest against yours, the beat of his heart one with the rise and fall of your breasts and his warm hands against your skin. His eyes met yours and yet you were the first to break the stare. “Thank you.” You straightened and he released you. 

“I’ll be next door fitting for my Yule costume,” he said. “It's best if we surprise each other though most couples like to match but I believe I’ll let fate decide this one.” His eyes were back to that blank lazy submission, any sparkle of openness lost as he turned and made his way towards the front of the store. 

It didn’t take you long to choose a Yuletide costume. You simply thought of what Lily would have chosen and the decision was done. You had to admit the symbolism of such a costume would be lost on no one and it gave you a thrill to think of it.

“And whom should I put the dress under for pickup My Lady? The seamstress said as she marked down the measurements of your waist, neckline, and shoulders into a massive book of orders. 

“You may put it under my name Madame Escoffier,” Taemin said as he came into the shop again with several bags. “I haven't seen you in months ma fée,” The woman said sweetly coming to kiss his cheeks.” Her fairy indeed you thought, marveling at his jovial demeanor and quick smiles. It was a gift he seemed to possess, he influenced the aura around him either radiating cold magnetic charm or sunshine that no one could escape.

“You tell Orla I’m waiting for a visit soon.” Madame Escoffier said as you walked out of her shop. Taemin grabbed the bags and assured the lady he would.

Next, Taemin took you to a small antique shop on the end on the street. The store was filled with old-fashioned bonnets expensive fishing rods and pendants. In the jewelry case, you found many pieces of faux earrings and necklaces and you wondered why they warranted the extra protection till your eyes fell upon a pearl necklace. Even if it was a fake you had to admit that the clasp and the sheen of glossy pearls were beautiful. “That one, I’ll take it,” Taemin said to the clerk when he saw you looking at the necklace. “You’ll need something old for the wedding won’t you?” He said with a conspiratorial laugh as he fastened the pearls around your neck. 

“Thank you,” you said somehow touched at this least extravagant gift than all the rest today.  

“Anything for my enchanting bride to be.” He said loudly enough for the clerk to hear. Taemin offered you a hand as you exited into the frosty streets and you took it gladly. It had gotten considerably colder and just when you were about to ask Taemin to hand you the new blue coat you had bought, a man with a tattooed shoulder of a vibrant rose-red she-wolf moved past. You clutched your own shoulder and shivered but not from the cold as you remembered the design of the tattoo all too well. The absence of the Scarlet Wolf Groupe resurfaced in your mind like a brand. You remembered the day long ago when you had burned it off your skin with the candle wax on your bedside table. The horror on Madame Dupont’s face when she’d found your scar was soon mended with makeup and lacy shoulder bands till the scars grew less apparent than a birthmark. 

Taemin hadn't missed the look of fear that crossed your face as the man walked past. Of course, he never missed anything, you thought as you made your face blank and continued to make your way to the car. Once inside Taemin didn’t spare a minute before he said, “It’s growing more and more perilous each night in New Celes. You would think the Chittaphons would be a little more subtle about where their alliances lie. He said revving the engine. 

Your head whipped toward his. “What do you mean his ally?”

 “Just what I said, the Scarlet Wolf is a long-time friend of the family. They do the Chittaphon’s dirty work like the dogs they are.” Taemin said, a look of disgust marring his perfect features and sending ice toward your veins. 

“It's an insane idea even for Ten to invite such mongrels to the masquerade under the guise of a truce. The Chittaphon’s seek “peace” with the beasts for the people of New Celes and wish to end their reign but it’s all a ploy to lure in the Alpha and assert their command. The leader of that rabid pack gets their money from someone we know.”

Your face paled and you couldn’t hide the panic in your voice as you said: “The Alpha is coming to the Yule Ball?” 

“Yes, but don’t worry he’s not the chatty sort, he said with worry as he took his eyes off the road to assess you. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, Lady Basileia.” He didn’t know how right he was. You remained silent for the rest of the ride back to the hotel. 

You wanted to tell Taemin you couldn’t attend the ball but every time you did your words faltered. Going to the ball wasn’t just about you, it was for Taemin, it was for the entire scheme you had agreed to. Without your presence, it would be a nightmare for him and you would be entirely responsible. Your own voice nagged at you that it wasn’t Taemin’s safety you worried for but your own. 

Telling anyone you were the daughter to the Alpha of the Scarlet Wolf would make you a bargaining chip and a dangerous one. You didn’t want to think about what Ten could do, what leverage he would gain if you were discovered. The brand on your shoulder burned again, as if alive, tying you to your past like a collar. There was no love lost between you and your father that was certain, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t want you back now. As a child you posed less of a threat, he probably thought you dead. But now if he ever knew you were still alive he would be afraid of the pack secrets you could reveal, the names you could sell and he would hunt you down without remorse.

 It was a masquerade after all, a festival of hidden faces and fluttering fans with a father you haven't seen in over fifteen years. He would not recognize you. And yet even with all of these excuses in your mind, your guilt ate away at you and the string of pearls Taemin had given you seemed to constrict around your neck in reminder.

Your loud thoughts were easier to dispel in the daytime but when night fell and you found yourself seeking the quiet comfort of Taemin’s company beside yours it grew harder and harder to remain silent and even more willpower to stay still. When you heard his breathing even out into a blissful sleep some nights you would turn over and look at his peaceful face- or what you could see of it from the dim bedside candlelight. Every fiber of your being craved contact. It was as if an insatiable fire had grown alight inside you, 

 Your fingers ached to trace the bridge of his nose from forehead to the unique dip of his lip. But you didn’t. You lay your head upon the pillow and fell away to darkness even as your body felt aflame in its own perpetual inferno. 

As the days grew closer and closer to the festival you’d had enough. You spent your nights in your own room, or else wear. You gathered money from new clients and disguised yourself with makeup and washable hair dyes. It was after the fifth night of going on in this fashion that you found Taemin in your room. It was four in the morning and you’d decided to leave your client asleep in his bed, helping yourself to a bottle of Champagne as you left. You hadn’t drunk much at all but when you saw Taemin leaning against the mantle of the fireplace as you entered your chambers you wished you had. 

You set the bottle on your bedside table carefully, not meeting his eyes.

“You’re back,” he said the obvious with a thinly laced veil of anger he was trying so desperately to conceal. “You shouldn’t be out at this hour, the Scarlet Wolf patrols are always about at night-”

“Who are you to say when I should or shouldn’t be out, are you my keeper? Do you think I will owe you forever.” You said placing cash on the table beside him and pushing it toward him. “Here is a week’s worth, I’ll pay off my emblem slowly but it will be done.”

“I never asked you to pay me back! I only asked you to keep up our agreement. His voice grew louder now as he took in your wrinkled gown and the stockings you’d draped across your arm. 

“Why don’t you just say what we both know is really on your mind.” You said, your voice growing heated as well. Your head felt as if it would burst and your feet were near freezing. “It hurts your pride that as your fiancee I was out hell knows where and with whom in the dead of night am I right?”

“Yes, It does bother me! I didn’t only make this arrangement for me Basileia.” He said coming closer. The light of the fire only added to the fervor in his eyes as he reached for you. One warm hand against your frigid collarbone. He pulled at the string of pearls around your neck till he found the clasp and set it loose, they fell to the floor with a clatter. His eyes meet yours as he said, “Is this Champagne life of luxuries all you desire? It bothers me to have you sleeping in another man’s bed with the present I gave you around your neck.” 

You stood so still you could hardly breathe. The passion in his eyes was frightening but not in the perilous way you were used to. Taemin’s hand across your skin wasn’t suffocating as Andre’s would be if anything you wanted him to pull you closer. His eyes were filled with a word you dared not say, it was sweeter than lust, more consuming than meer obsession. And so you dangled it before you like a token in your mind. It was love; bold, bright, and hopeful, dancing in his irises like tongues of fire. “I thought..” His voice was a broken whisper now. “I thought you would be happier here.” 

You were happier here with him. Happier than any time in your life. But to stay? To make the lie between you real? 

“I sometimes forget this is a lie.” You said softly, motioning between yourself and him. “When you touch me I forget myself.” 

He smiled then as if you had given him the world. He leaned in and whispered against your ear, “Then why not make this our reality, why pretend when we both want this? He took your hands in his “Or am I not enough?”

“You are more than enough, Taemin.” You said bringing his hands to your lips. “You’ve made me care like I never thought I could. You saw worth in me even when I looked upon myself in shame. And I will always be grateful to you but because of who I am I cannot stay in one place for long or dare to love someone.”

He extricated himself from your hands, a mask of ice was forming once more across his features, shielding his emotions away and in that moment you knew that if you didn’t tell him the truth you would lose him forever and that frightened you more than his love. 

“My father is the leader of the Scarlet Wolf, Taemin. I can’t allow him to notice me if I stay too long.”  His eyes widened, the shock melting his indifference. “I could never be a part of them and because I severed the ties between us he will certainly want me back if he finds I’m alive. 

“Is that why you stayed at Muldale? Did you feel you had to atone for your father’s mistakes by selling yourself?” His voice wasn’t laced with pity or animosity, he looked as if he truly wanted to know. It was honestly a question you had asked yourself many times.

 “No,” you said finally and he seemed a bit relieved by the answer. “My father’s sins, the Alpha’s sins, are his own. I only wanted to make a life apart from his and I made it in the best way I believed I could given my situation.”

He nodded at this, seeming satisfied that you weren't running yourself to the ground out of some twisted obligation to erase the Alpha’s blood from your veins. 

“I do care for you,” You said with much more conviction this time. The words tumbled out awkwardly but that didn’t make them any less true. You felt it needed to be said aloud, if not for you then for him. For the man before you who wore his heart on his sleeve in your presence. “I want you, more than I have ever wanted anything in my life.” You said, and a look of hopeful bliss crossed his features once more. He wrapped you into his embrace, his chin resting on your head as he played with the ends of your hair. 

“And I suppose you were going to wait till after the masquerade when you finished dancing with death to tell me all this?” He sounded worried and so you reassured him with the same phrases you'd kept telling yourself over and over. 

“He won’t recognize me, it’s been so many years.”

“It’s a bad idea, I can make up some excuse for not attending. If we go every eye will be on you. Our story is quite the talk in city gossip as it is.”

“All the more reason we must go. I won't sabotage your plans to show ourselves as a couple. Besides, the best way to hide is right under the Alpha’s nose.”

The inside of your gown scratched a bit against your skin but you had to admit it was worth it. The dress clung to your body perfectly and yet the bodice was breathable. The midnight-blue fabric swayed as you walked and the little golden stars, suns, and crescent moons sewn onto the shimmering canopy layer glowed just as brightly as the mask you wore. It was a simple mask, shaped like a butterfly. 

A delicate pair of gossamer wings attached to the back of your gown and seemed to merge with your back. The wings were stunning enough that they had taken your breath away when the costume had arrived wrapped carefully in parchment in the hands of Marguerite. The girl pinned tiny flower clips into your hair and as you gazed into the long mirror in your room now you found an ethereal Faerie Queen stared back. At a light knocking on the door you turned from your reflection to open it and it was then that your heart truly caught in your throat. 

Taemin had dyed his hair to a light white-blonde shade. Clips of hair the same hue cascaded down his shoulders. His eyes twinkled mischievously through the golden mask that covered half of his upper face. Golden antlers grew from the top of his mask with flowers growing from their tips and on his forehead was a crown made of leaves. His ears were pointed and a pair of wings also graced his back. A green velvet cape matched the single opera glove on his left hand as well as his pants. The ruffled white shirt with golden buttons closed to the collar granted him an air of nobility. You let out a wide smile at his choice of costume. 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance Lord Oberon, King of the Forest.” You curtsied slightly and he followed your example with a smile and bow of his own. 

“Likewise fair Queen Mab, Lady of Air and Darkness.” He said. Taking your hand into his gloved one and kissing the back of it.

“How in blazes did you know I would dress up as the Faerie queen of the Winter Court.” You asked him, only a little annoyed that he’d peeked at your costume.

“I didn’t I swear. Fate is really in our favor.” 

“Or the Fates are against us!” you said with a laugh. “Your queen Titania is not one to be double-crossed. You’re the King of the Summer Court and a Seelie at that! However would our love survive?”

“Opposites attract My Lady, you are as lovely and cold as snow. I cannot bear to part with you. Where others may say the Unseelie bring nothing but misfortune, I see beauty in those icy veins and a heart that beats as rapidly as mine own.” 

You lose it then, doubling over in laughter. “You are quite good at this.”

“I was born to appear on stage, are you really all that surprised.”

“Before we go would you help me with something.” You said, moving towards the vanity and taking the string of pearls you placed in his palm before moving your hair away from the nape of your neck. He fastened it, his hands lingering on your skin a moment longer and then he extended his elbow. You took it, entwining your arm in his. When you looked toward him you felt the rampant wave of emotions that radiated from him as he took in the pearls across your throat and your painted plum-colored lips so near yet not near enough. 

When you arrived at the Chittaphon Manor you were greeted by several footmen waiting at the door. Once inside you craned your neck up to look at the high ceilings covered in paintings as you walked upon the red-carpeted marble floors. The ballroom was filled with diamond chandeliers and scented red candles that smelled of cinnamon. There were so many people dancing to the vivacious orchestra and they were all hidden under masks, even the musicians themselves were in costume. Servants bustled about in black suits and dresses with the masks of ravens carrying trays of champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries.

 Your descent from the grand staircase had not gone unnoticed and Taemin squeezed your hand to reassure you as many eyes turned to watch you both. In spite of (or rather because of) his costume there was no mistaking Taemin or his companion. The crowd murmured as you passed and you supposed the sight of Taemin attending any party with a woman would stir up this much gossip and jealous eyes. Taemin didn’t ignore their gazes, he smiled politely as always and pulled you toward the center of the room and towards the company of your host. 

You noticed Ten before he did. He was dressed in a fox mask and a red suit, looking ever the part of a depraved demon you thought. His eyes then fell upon Taemin and flicked to you. He said nothing, assessing your costume head to toe before saying, “Ah it would seem you have switched places. Forgive me but as everyone here can attest, myself included, if there were ever a faerie tyrant too bold and in possession of a stone heart it would be your prized husband-to-be mademoiselle.”  Ten bowed and extended his hand, you gave him yours reluctantly but with so many eyes upon you, it was impossible to refuse him. You smiled, determined to keep your cheerful demeanor. 

“I am glad we should meet again at last, Lady Basileia, though I find it a shame you did not come dressed as Hestia, or some other hearth maiden as you bring so many men warmth on these frigid winter nights.” Ten’s eyes twinkled in amusement and the meaning of his words was not lost upon you as you heard Taemin clear his throat beside you. 

“And where are the rest of our hosts this evening, It would be a shame for Lady Basileia to miss them,” Taemin said. 

“Mother and Father tire of these festivities easily.” Ten said, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing tray and taking a sip. “They retreated to the gambling tables as soon as the music began.” 

“Young Master, I believe your guest has arrived.” Said a servant in a crow mask to Ten who then excused himself. 

“I’m afraid Ten knows far too much about your whereabouts,” Taemin whispered with one hand at the small of your back, guiding you through the dance floor and closer to the orchestra and swaying figures that brushed you by. 

“But he couldn’t know about anything before Madame Dupont’s, Taemin. Even the Madame herself knew nothing of where I came from.” 

Just then Ten appeared in the corner of your eye again. He watched the two of you and the weight of resentment you felt from his gaze was enough to make you act rashly. If he did know anything of your past it was better to lure the truth out. Better the devil you know than die of ignorance too late. 

When Taemin grabbed a chocolate-covered strawberry passing on a tray you took his hand before he could eat it and moved his fingers to your mouth. The plum-colored lips that had so hypnotized Taemin before now took the fruit along with two of his fingers. Your tongue left not a trace of chocolate behind as the warmth of your mouth enveloped him and he thought he would lose his sanity as you moved closer, taking him in farther.

“What are you doing,” Taemin hissed. His voice was shaken and you gleamed triumphantly as you released him. 

“Merely speeding up our reluctant enemy.” You said as you searched for Ten again amid the crowd.

He was still watching, but his gaze had turned even darker and beside him stood a man that hadn’t been there before. It was Ten’s Guest who towered beside him and he was wearing a wolf mask. Leon Sauvage, the Alpha, stood ever too close to Ten like a familiar and comfortable lapdog. You turned your gaze away immediately.

“Let’s dance,” you said. Wrapping your arms around Taemin’s shoulder and pulling him closer as if it would shield you from the Alpha’s eyes.

After a few dances, you began to feel more at ease and relaxed into Taemin’s arms allowing the music to envelop you both into a bubble of happiness that you hadn’t known had been busting inside of you. Under different circumstances, at a different party, you would have been wholly engulfed in his company.

The twist in your stomach returned all too soon however when Ten appeared behind Taemin and tapped him on the shoulder. “May I have a dance with the ravishing Queen Mab.” Ten said. When Taemin didn’t pull away from you he leaned in and said to Taemin, “It was so kind of you mon amour to decide to sing for us, truly more than I expected.” 

Taemin paled at this and Ten only smirked as one of the servants announced loudly to the assembly, “And now I present Lord Lee Taemin, who will grace us with ‘Bird in a Gilded Cage’.”

“Go on, I  do believe they are calling you. You wouldn't want to make a scene,” Ten said.

You nodded at Taemin to go and squeezed his hand in reassurance that you would be alright without him as he threw daggers with his eyes at Ten and walked toward the front of the crowd. When Taemin started to sing the ironically dark and sorrowful melody of a woman who wasted her youth on a man of fortune. Ten began to whirl you around the room looking ever the part of a gentleman to his many guests. But his grip on your waist and hand was like a vise. 

“You’re like a dime,” you said when you couldn’t bear the silence any longer. “Two-faced, and not worth my time.” He laughed at that, it was a strange laugh like none you’d ever heard. It was boyish in its charm almost innocent even though his eyes were anything but. Still, the wide smile and flashing of teeth had caught you off guard once again. He held an air of pure calculation. Everything about him was deliberate, meticulous, dangerous and beautiful in its ferality.

 “Quite the handful aren't you, it's no wonder he can’t keep you for himself.” Ten said as he caught a ringlet of your hair and twirled it between his fingers. When you slapped his hand away he only grinned again then leaned in to whisper in your ear, “It matters not how many gowns and diamonds you wear, a wolf is a wolf, even in a gilded cage, even dressed in silk. And his daughter,” he said holding you tighter, “Is no exception.”

He knew then. Your heart pounded frantically as you began to race through plans of escape in your mind but Ten’s hands held too firmly to you. 

“Perhaps instead of thinking about escaping me, you should start thinking about what the Alpha can do to Taemin if you don’t leave him.” His words stopped your writhing as you stared at him. “Telling the world who you are would indeed sour Taemin’s reputation but only for a time. It's simply not enough, eventually they would just say you cast a spell on him, that with your succubus charms and angelic words you stole him away from the public and his many admirers. Martyr that he is he wouldn’t oppose to gossip for your honor. What is an idol without fame but a beaten dreamer out on the streets and you know how rough that can be my dear. The fool thinks he loves you, well he can love you from his grave.” Your eyes widened as the full force of his words came to rest upon you. 

“Your father is a wealthy man because of me, one word and I'll have those mutts of the Scarlet Groupe tear Taemin to pieces right before your eyes. 

“Ten,” you said gripping his arms now. “If you still bear one shred of love for him, please don’t do this.” 

“Oh my dear sweet vixen, he said tilting your chin up. “I won’t be the one breaking his heart, you will or else our songbird with never sing again.” And with that Ten spins you straight into your father’s arms. 

“My how you've grown,” The Alpha said, as he lead you along the dance floor. You were too stunned for words to slip away. You’d forgotten the gentle rumble of your father's voice, at odds with his intimidating demeanor and brash fits of violence. You saw his eyes soften as he looked upon you and it silenced you into submission. You had always been the omega of the Scarlet Wolf, distanced from the blood-lust and ostracized from their plotting. You remembered then the last time you’d seen your father’s disappointed eyes as he’d turned away and left you in the snow. It was a show of strength, if you had come back alive from the cold it would prove your worthiness and loyalty. But you had run away, abandoning your kin just as your father had abandoned you in his heart. You firmly believed he’d never once believed you would survive that winter alone. 

 “When the young master told me you were still alive I could scarcely believe it. I thought it was a trick to lord over me but it wasn’t. Come back to us, there is nothing for you here.” Your father said. “There is a wildness in your eyes just as there is in mine, you do not belong in the freak show that man calls art.” 

“You left me for dead! Why would I ever return? Especially now when you are nothing but a lapdog to the ringmaster and his family.” 

“I prefer bloodhound,” he said his voice turning colder now. “I had the feeling you would refuse but this isn’t personal anymore it’s simple diplomacy. The young master would like you to leave New Celes and Taemin. I spoke with him and we have come to an agreement. If you leave before dawn he will meet you in the Hall of Mirrors and grant you a small fortune to live on as well as safe passage. You will not be followed out of the city.”

“And if I refuse this generous offer?”

“Well, I will have to kill Taemin upon my young master’s orders.”

“Why not just kill me then, It would save you both the trouble. You know you want to. Leaving the pack is a criminal offense in your eyes is it not?”

“As I said before personal matters are behind us but that does not mean I will enjoy seeing you die, daughter. Your mind is of no use to me anymore, the names you remember, the knowledge of the pack even. Many things have changed since then and I would rather see you off safely than have you come to harm because of the young master’s whims.”

His earnestness surprised you. You’d thought for certain he would want you dead but instead, he was bargaining for your future and safety? 

“I am obliged to follow the young master’s words. It’s best you heed him or others will suffer. I’ve seen him shed more blood over less. I am merely the blade in his hands and his orders will be obeyed.” The song ended and he bowed before slipping away into the crowd. 

Just then a scream cut through the ballroom and the crowd went to circle a body that had collapsed. You pushed your way through only to find a young woman on the floor. One of the candelabras had collapsed and she’d fell with it, hitting her head in the process. You would have believed it an accident if the woman had been anyone else. But there lay Valerie her delicate frame motionless in Taemin’s arms as he picked her up calling frantically all the while for a doctor. It was a message meant for you and as you met Ten’s vicious gaze you knew what would happen if you didn’t do as he wished.

“She’ll be fine, Valerie is awake now.” You said to Taemin again as you both made your way back to the hotel.

“I know’ it’s just…” Taemin let out the shaky breath he’d seemed to be holding the past two hours as they’d brought Valerie to the Chittaphon’s personal physician at Ten’s request of course. You’d watched helplessly as she began to regain her senses slowly after the physician treated her head and held smelling salts to her nose. Valerie had been groggy and complained of a gastly headache but she was otherwise unharmed and it had taken a bit of insistence on your part and Orla’s for Taemin to leave her side and get some rest. 

It reminded you of the way you used to sit by Lily’s bedside while she had a fever. You’d watch over her and read to her for days until she was well. It comforted you that while you were leaving him behind Taemin wouldn’t be alone. He had a family here no matter how strange his position seemed to be he seemed to thrive amid the madness. 

As you looked toward Taemin now pacing like a lion and deep in thought you wondered at the ache in your chest. Maybe you’d always worshipped things you couldn’t have and now that you had him before you, you couldn't bear to let him go.

“I saw you dancing with your father,” Taemin said breaking you from your thoughts. “I wanted to intervene but by the time I got close enough the dance had already ended and Valerie- Well I’m just sorry I wasn’t there for you.” 

“No it’s alright,” you said. “I wasn’t in any danger, it seems my father rather I rejoin him than kill me.”  And so you proceeded to tell him of your refusal and decided it was best to say nothing of Ten’s plans.

 You didn’t want him to worry, you didn’t want to spend your last hours together explaining yourself or talking him into the idea of you leaving him. Perhaps it was greedy of you to want him to yourself just a while longer, but self-denial had never been your virtue and neither had patience.  

“Your song helped me push through my unease tonight,” you said coming towards him and turning. “Would you mind detaching my wings?” You said with an impish smile. “Marguerite has already gone to bed and I’d hate to wake her.”

With nimble hands he began to untie the knot at the small of your back and peeled the wings away slowly. Your back brushed against his chest and you held his gaze over your shoulder. In that moment you were reminded of the carvings in the Hall Of Mirrors that had gleamed in the sun. He was a golden angel, a graven image you dared not touch and yet you burned for him.

 Taemin stood so still, frozen in place as if even a whisper would scare you away. You felt as if you were standing at the edge of a cliff with hell down below. And so you welcomed the chaos of your desire as well as its many demons. You kissed him with all the rapture of an ending world. Your tongue caught the honey of his lips your breath heavy and untamed.With every button you loosened he grew unraveled. With every tug of his hair he was conquered. 

He ran his fingers through your hair sending flower pins flying as he pulled you closer. His lips sent feather-light kisses down your bare shoulder that set your heart racing. Your neck tilted back with the echo of his name on your lips and he claimed them with ravenous abandon. You’d forgotten to feel the depths of your loneliness till now. Before you survived living like a hollowed shell but now that emptiness was filled with something so sweet and new and it made you tremble. Your hands wandered across his chest as he probed your mouth with his tongue, it danced with your own in a blaze of heat and need. 

You slid from your gown, loosening the fabric that caught at your ankles and guided him towards the bed. Every move you made was languorous like a slow prowl your eyes and fingers traced every new patch of skin till you reached the uneven valley of his back and halted. Taemin seemed to come out of his torrid haze in that moment as well. His body seemed to lock in on itself in dread as you moved behind him and beheld his back. 

You were unable to hold in the gasp that escaped your lips and quickly you brought one hand to your mouth as if you could take it back. There along the curve of his spine and the center of his back were scars etched deep into his skin that looked as if an animal had clawed him. No not an animal but a monster you realized as you took in the unnatural pattern they left behind. The lines were shaped like a cross as they overlapped each other and in them the indisputable initial ‘T’ stood.They were whip lashings as brazen as the demon who had given them. You coiled your fists in the sheets, rage swelled within you as well as grief. It was as if Taemin’s body was an extension of your own and every slash of pain bit into your heart. 

“I’m fine.” Taemin said as he wiped your tears with his thumb. 

“How can you say that! How can you stay here with him watching your every move. What he has done to you is unforgivable and yet you stay. You felt sick and so very tired. Your fingers moved along the scars and Taemin allowed it. Watching you over his shoulder as if he was trying to find the words to help you understand. 

“Ten was always a devil in hiding, he took what he wanted and I never questioned his behavior. I was young and so blinded by admiration and blissful ignorance. In those days he could have set the world ablaze and called it snow, heaven knows I would have believed him.” Taemin said brokenly in a whisper of shame.

 “It was so easy to love his smile that even when I found out about the family business I confronted him in the hope that he wasn’t a part of it.” Taemin continued. “I could not believe that the boy who would awaken at dawn just to paint the sky and sketch portraits of me while he thought I wasn't looking was really a monster.” Taemin shook his head and took your hand in his.

“Once he found out I knew about the family business his careful mask seemed to fall around me day by day till one night Ten’s father had me sleep with the Countess Marie de Froissy. It wasn’t unusual for him to ask this of me. He often tried to further his own investments with the information the wives of stockholders and other aristocrats told me.” His eyes flicked toward you when he said this and the words Taemin had said when you first met came to your mind, ‘You and I are more alike than you know.’ 

It took until now to fully realize the extent of those words. You’d both grown up in two separate prisons unable to alter the lives you were given and you both had been so alone. It was then that you showed him where the mark of your kin had been on your shoulder before you’d rid yourself of the hold they had on you. What a fine pair we make.

“Ten was angry at his father and wanted to make it so that he never sent anyone to me again.” Taemin said. “I believe in his own twisted mind he probably thinks it was a gift. But I have learned to not let it define me.” 

“I see that by the way you hold yourself.” You said, moving towards him and letting his arms encircle you in warmth. “With every dance and soul-filled song you've shed these scars and now wear them as wings.” You said as you moved to kiss the scars on his back stroking the lines with the tip of your tongue like a baptism as you painted it across him. He let out an unholy groan that set your skin on fire.

 You pushed him down unto the silken sheets and held him captive with your lips on his again as you straddled his hips, poised upon him as if he were your throne. You trailed your hair down his chest, the strands gliding across him in slow excruciating designs; the thrust of your hips inducing a moan that mirrored your own. 

You reached for the clasp at your neck, unfastening the pearls and embracing the coolness of their touch as they slid pleasurable against your palm. You took the strand in your hands and encircled the beads around his length moving them back and forth against him in a way that made him whimper and quiver, sending a rush of excitement through your veins.

 And then he was there settling above you. His elbows were propped up on either side of your head and the smell of his skin, cinnamon and vanilla enthralled you again. He nestled between your legs, moving inside you with such slow, torturous, movements at first that set your body burning with insatiable hunger until suddenly you couldn’t hum to the rhythm of his hips anymore and the inside of your heavy eyelids were covered in stars. 

The Hall of Mirrors was an entirely different place at night. The mirrors and statues cast queer shadows in the darkness with only the moonlight coming through the archways for light. The chandeliers chimed against each other lightly as the brisk wind of an open window brushed across them. 

You wondered if the letter you’d left Taemin behind would be the first thing he would see when he woke up alone and your heart constricted at the thought. You hadn’t said much, it wouldn’t really have been a goodbye if you had but a promise of something more and you weren’t cruel enough the leave him hope that you would return. Your words were brutal and dipped in half-lies that made you want to throw the paper into the fire before he could ever read it but you hadn’t. Instead you’d dressed, grabbed your few belongings and shut the door.  

“I’m glad you could make it,” Ten’s amused voice came from behind you breaking you from your trance and in the next instant you heard the door click shut. You turned to see his wolfish grin as he crossed the room towards you and placed a single candle with its stand onto a table. You gave him a glare fixed with murderous intent. 

“I didn’t have much choice did I?” You responded bitterly. “Give me the money and tickets before I kill you for what you’ve done to him! I’ve seen the markings on his back, the way you branded yourself onto his skin.” Tears came to your eyes now and you let them fall you didn’t care anymore if this inhuman creature saw you wither at last for he had won and he knew it. “How can you live as if you have authority over all creation? Is everything a game to you?”

“Ahh yes, those tokens of my love. Tell me, when you kissed his scars and traced my name across his back are you sure it was your face he saw as you slept with him or mine.” His eyes gleamed in the candlelight with such perverse pleasure that you could hold back no longer.

You flew at him with hands and teeth. Clawing at his perfect features with your nails as if he had released some rabid thing inside of you. A maniacal storm unleashing itself as you let your repulsion, your hatred, overtake you. You had sworn never to use the abilities of your kin again but your anger took over and with it the bloodlust.

You felt a surge of strength flow through you and with one swift motion, your nails raked across Ten’s face. He screamed, pushing you away with such force that you crashed into one of the mirrors. You covered your face with your arms as you fell to the floor, glass shattering around you. Then Ten was there pinning you down as he sat against your thighs, his hands grabbing at your throat. You felt the blood from his wound dripping across your face as he leaned over you. You’d missed his eye but just barely, the slashes around it had gone deep. 

You could feel your strength waning as it always had before, one moment there then gone. You cursed yourself for your lack of power in a body so wasted away since birth that it only ever held a spark of ability unlike the rest of your kin who quaked with it. 

“What’s the matter, runt? Was that all you could do? Ten taunted. He pulled at the pearls on your throat till it snapped sending a shower of beads across the floor amid broken glass. 

“I meant it when I said this room wouldn’t hold your wedding. It was meant for something far greater: your funeral.’’ Ten said as he grabbed a shard of glass from the floor and drew it towards your chest. Just as suddenly a shadow swept into the room through the open window at an inhuman speed coming between you and the glass. 

You screamed as the Alpha’s vest started to soak in blood. The shard had gone right to his heart and you held his hand in shock as his face grew paler.

“I couldn’t fail you a second time.” Your father said, his eyes meet yours and you knew then that no matter what had happened in the past, he had missed you. The Alpha let out a clear whistle with his last breath before falling limp in your arms. You shook him in disbelief. The strongest person you knew was dead.

 It wasn’t long before Ten was surrounded by men and women in scarlet cloaks and furs. In response to the call of their leader and in a rage over their Alpha’s lifeless body they descended upon Ten like a pack of wolves in earnest till he lay across the marble floor, eyes dull and wide. 

The members of the scarlet wolf gathered their leader’s body with careful hands and pulled you to the open window. It was only then that you heard the shout of Ten’s guard as you were whisked away from the scene by a family you thought you had left behind forever. 

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Dream Ashes (Yoongi x Reader)

Genre: Smut, Angst, FwB AU, HYYH AU

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Warnings: Allusions to self-harm, smoking, drinking and domestic abuse, toxic relationships, unrequited love, Top!/Dom!Yoongi, unprotected sex (ALWAYS do it safely, lads and lasses), (semi-)public sex (if sex on a rooftop counts), swearing/cussing

Summary: Not every night under each roof is pleasant, filled with arguments and the broken dreams of aspiring artists held back by parents either having no faith in their child’s talent or, if they acknowledge it at all, in a future pursuing a dream. A mixture of the two continues to kill the aspirations of the black sheep of the Min family, a delinquent deemed a pyromaniac by the ignorant eyes that solely know how to shallowly judge.

But there is a guardian angel with love who bears his burden gladly on lonely nights.

Even if it comes at the cost of her own heart.

Masterlist

Not every night under each roof is pleasant, filled with arguments and the broken dreams of aspiring artists held back by parents either having no faith in their child’s talent or, if they acknowledge it at all, in a future pursuing a dream. A mixture of the two continues to kill the aspirations of the black sheep of the Min family, a delinquent deemed a pyromaniac by the ignorant eyes that solely know how to shallowly judge. However, the open-minded individuals who can see beneath the tough exterior will be met by a musical genius who is forced time and again to give up the sole reason to live.

Music.

The piano.

‘I don’t have a dream. Besides, what’s the point in having one?’ Those words have become a steady statement to make whenever the conversation turns to what can be done after leaving behind six good friends and dropping out of high school. Whether any help is needed, in any regard, because a girl ran away from home herself is more than knowledgeable in how hard it can be to survive without anything to fall back on.

Though eventually a safe haven was offered freely by the actual leader of our little band of troublemakers guarded by a mistress of lies, another runaway living in a train yard outside of town. 

Withal, tonight a new worrying addition is spoken after a habitual check-up text sent from Joon’s refurbished container after patching up Taehyung’s latest wounds inflicted by a raging drunk of a worthless father. The boy with the curious square smile stubbornly continues to hide the true cause of the physical and mental pain despite his fellow graffiti artist having hinted multiple times at wanting him to open up about the issue. Notwithstanding, it would seem the real cause of the harm will only be entrusted to the boys' confidante, the guardian angel helping tattooed aqua locks keep the rabble in line. 

For as far as that is possible. 

‘They take everything from the inside and throw it away.’

‘Who is they?’ Throat constricted by concern at this new detail, fingers stop combing through caramel locks finally fallen asleep after grunting through the medicinal care while precariously avoiding making eye contact with Monie. 

‘Everybody.’

‘I don’t, I would never. Neither would Jungkook, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, Namjoon and Seokjin.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘No, it’s not!’ No response, the last text remaining to be noted as read. ‘Yoongi? 

‘Yoongi, answer me! You’re not gonna do anything stupid, you hear me?

‘Yoongi, please!’

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

‘Oh God.’ The exclamation comes out on a short breath, panic rapidly overtaking as thoughts refer to the past.

‘What?’ Namjoon looks up from designing a new piece of art to place somewhere on a bare city wall, an eyebrow curiously cocked.

‘I- I need to go.’ Gently, Tae is laid down on the mattress. Futilely, the unconscious boy tries to wrap arms around the upper legs to pin them where they are before moving away. They have to, because time has become precariously precious again. Hence, all that the sleeper gets is a quick platonic peck on the forehead. ‘Right now.’

‘What’s going on?’ The leader notices the distress, turning halfway on the worn seat and about to get up.

‘It’s Yoongi. He’s not responding anymore and I think I know why.’

Shredded paper, beautiful notes turned awry thanks to disregard by the public, compositions torn apart to be hauled through a shredder or be burned in the next fire leading to an arrest.

Scarlet.

Glistening metal. 

More silver lines added to the ever-expanding canvas on pale thin limbs.

‘Honestly, why doesn’t he just come here? We’ve both said multiple times he should.’ Honey digits remove the simple beanie to run through blue short strands, defeated in the wager as to why the pianist remains on the flight instead of retreating to the home we have created. 

Regardless of the severity weighing heavily on shoulders moving towards the door, a sympathetic smile can be managed to put Joon at least somewhat at ease. One person carrying the burden of Time is more than enough and if someone should be to blame for being too late, it should be the guardian angel. ‘Because he can’t see the point, the good it’ll do him. He doesn’t know he has a home.’

It should be me.

‘He’d rather see his dream burn than move in with us.’ A mutual deep sigh erases the only sign of comfort that can be given at the moment as a hand reaches towards the latch. ‘One of these days I’ll drag him here myself and just lock him in. It’ll be full house, but I’m sure we could figure something out.’

‘Good luck with that, Monie. I’d help, but I value my life. He’s a tiger. One that’s hopefully unharmed by the time I reach him.’ Because, once more, it are solely the black wings engraved into the back which know the truth while the rising bird is kept in the dark regardless of begging in silence for the last sliver of complete trust even telling of hardships they do not know about. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Gritting gravel surrounding neglected railways beneath open twilight gradually transforms into asphalt broken up by holes in the districts ruled by crime and smooth steady ways in good neighbourhoods forming the residence area of families of which the children will either become something akin to the grandness of a doctor or a nine-to-five, if not worse, office worker. And it is here the phone put into the pocket of the denim jacket buzzes, the screen lighting up thanks to a new message that is a blessing and a curse at the same time. ‘Not home. Ran away. Warehouse. Roof.’

‘When did you run?’ The answer might seem fairly obvious were it not for the memory of the first time created melodies were destroyed by the paper shredder and parents furiously yelled at the aspiring producer to actually go back to school and get a proper education.

A good life.

Meant for someone else.

Not for an artist.

These same bordeaux Puma sneakers stormed through the front door and up the stairs after mister Min opened up, about to ask who in their right mind came calling around midnight. Absolutely not giving a damn about the consequences and solely focused on reaching a familiar door hiding ignored hardship. 

Truth be told, none of us ever has.

Because we live.

Young, wild and free.

Or so we will, after all of us have escaped the judgmental cage created by a society looking down on creative souls trying to make a change. To leave a worthy legacy meant for generations to look back on and learn from. 

After feathers break free from the egg. 

But more than a single care was given upon warily approaching the figure in the secret studio least of all serving its original purpose of a bedroom, crawled away from the door to hide in the corner while clutching anxiously at freshly bleeding cuts. The knife was put aside, undeniably used and cruelly lying on the ground beside us.

Instead of directly speaking, we merely sat across from each other in a heavy hush wherein confidence was regained by calmly waiting for dark eyes to make contact. Which they eventually did, trembling bloody palms removing the white headphones given as a collective birthday present together with Joon and Hobi. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘For what?’ Regardless of knowing what was meant, locks nevertheless tilted to the side in feigned wonder because any direct reference to the difficult situation would lock the oppressed musician up immediately.

And invite the cruel blade upon leaving. 

‘For being so fucking worthless. For making you come all the way here, just to see this good-for-nothing criminal.’ Unjust cracks appeared evident in the barely composed raspy voice of salt-streaked tears. Crimson fingertips plucked at baggy clothes concealing the frame that had become ghastly thinner due to the stress placed upon young shoulders forced to see dreams burn over and over again. 

As always, helpless heavy-weighing playfulness was resorted to in the quiet hope of brightening the mood enough to break through the impenetrable walls which are always built when Yoongi is put down. ‘Shut up.’

Colourless irises, the passion sucked out of them until all they knew was how to cry, looked up in a sharp sneer. Or so it wanted to be, but could not due to an inner voice constraining the harshest negativity which turned the expression grave rather than judgemental. ‘It’s true, Y/N. You know it is.’

‘No, it’s not.’

A shift of subject made it more than clear the current topic did no longer serve any purpose, completely disregarding the smeared headphones and fresh cuts. Curiously, it changed to inquire about the well-being of the equally, albeit not to the same degrees, abused boy with whom often arguments were started merely because of being followed. Followed by the one who looked up to him, the rebel who will one day fully make the right decision and flee from beneath this harming roof permanently. ‘How’s Tae?’

A resigned sigh gave into the shift reluctantly, a tiny sliver of gladness spreading warmth throughout the limbs grown cold at the miserable sight and calming a rapidly beating heart unable to not worry about the wounds. ‘Bruised ribs, split lip, a cut on his cheek and an ugly bruise beneath the left eye.’

‘Please tell me he’s crashing at Namjoon’s.’

‘He is, as always. Mended for as far as possible and asleep.’

‘Good.’ Absently, as if drifting off into the forcefully created crumbled world once more, Yoongi nodded while repeating the confirmation under sharp breath. ‘That’s good.’

‘You, on the other hand, aren’t doing so great.’ It could not be helped, the dark carmine droplets staining ashen sweatpants creating hideous murky brown stains could not be ignored. Ugly yet alluring ghosts tempting the eye into being looked at. ‘You could have come to the train yard.’

The subtle suggestion resulted in the habitual denial of all help, any former softness sharpened like a dagger and flowing from a snarling tongue. ‘I’m fine. Just go.’

‘Where’s the first-aid kit?’ It had always been part of the dynamic, ignoring what the composer said in favour of a better outcome or serve as the company that was wanted but the wish of had never been explicitly stated. Withal, the guardian angel would triumph once more due to the trump card of iron determination, speaking in a tone that would not let anything of the pain due to the confrontation with self-destruction filter through. 

‘Go.’ Sullenness preceded, as per habit, the fierceness of the tiger beneath the skin. Stained fingers moulded into fists gripping at oversized clothes, trembling with rage but trying incredibly hard to contain it to not do something to regret in the second after rashness. 

‘Where?’ The characteristic raised sarcastic eyebrow was not appreciated, still only so on very few occasions nowadays. 

‘Just fucking go!’

The lashing out would have chased away any of the other guys, but not the girl merely scoffing at the show both minds knew was nothing except fakery. ‘Have it your way. I’ll look for it myself.’

As expected, it was stored away in the lower compartment of the bathroom sink adjacent to the small bedroom, thus leading to the swift return to a cherry-haired tiger meticulously observing every movement from a safe spot. Withal, without shrinking as if wanting to melt into the scenery. Instead, he stared on in wonder of the help coming to the rescue of both a friend and a precious bond.

‘Give me your arm.’ No response at first, even at the beckoning hand any other might mistake for being impatient yet was all but that. It was desperate, frightened to death by the flowing carmine. ‘Yoongi, arm.’

Despite not stating it outright, the mere act of putting it in the cross-legged lap calmly without grumbling said more than words could at the moment. Henceforth, a tense though comfortable hush descended while cleaning the wounds after disinfecting them, checking up on an expression continuously returning to stoicism with every hiss. 

Notwithstanding, in spite of missing the change betraying bodily hurt that by no means outweighed the mental burden of both parties, there was a fascinated warmth in irises drained of life time and again as digits bandaged the visible part of the damage up.

‘There, that’s better.’ Glad hands put down the first-aid kit as the last freshly carved scar had been concealed by ivory linen, sighing in calming relief. All in all, it did not take long to patch the musician up but the pressure of time flowing away made the instance appear longer than it really had. 

‘Why?’ Furrowed brows regarded the first step to physical healing, almost as if uncomprehending of how it would help. Of course, it would not aid mental stability but it did allow for the rescue of a soul who would have gone too soon.

‘Because we’re friends and I won’t let you fall. I’d never let you down.’ Trembling in hesitance, the palm of a barely recovered from the shock voice reached out to a pale cheek, the thumb languid in caressing the denied tears away. ‘You’re an incredible musician, Yoongi. No matter what anyone says or whether you believe me, it’s true. We, the guys and I, think so. No, we know so.’

‘You speak of them as if they’re my friends too.’ Had the genuine broken persona living beneath the skin of the rebel kicked out of school been unknown to the girl sitting across from him on the floor, the end would have happened right then and there. However, the opposite was the truth and thus the sneering tone was disregarded in favour of establishing at least a sliver of conviction of reality.

Something to believe in. 

Something to hold on to. 

‘They are. They disregard the fact you don’t contact them at all because, as I said, they know you’re going to make it big someday. They still continue to support you. None of them has forgotten about you.’ Lips pursed in careful contemplation, calculating the impact of each word which wanted to be said without angering the only temporarily subdued tiger. Eventually, such an argument was formed in good faith. ‘And you haven’t forgotten about them either because you wouldn’t have asked after Tae if you had.’

‘Still, you’re the only one here.’ A pale palm folded perfectly over the one on the salt-streaked cheek, the broken dreamer leaning gratefully into the touch with lashes fluttered shut and a voice as if drifting off into slumber. A blissful place away from cruel reality. Away from here. ‘You’ve always been.’

‘That’s not tr-’ The protest was cut short by an unexpected kiss, lips meeting in soft urgency. A whirlwind of emotions kicked up at the suddenness of the action, Reason and Fancy at war due to never having thought the tiger would do such a thing. 

Nor expect to hear a new level of despair in the whisper temporarily breaking up the kiss, sounding strange as it was caught between genuine clarity and relieved sobbing begging to not be left behind. ‘It is. Only you love me.’

Thus, the truly vicious cycle began of coming to the rescue both mentally and physically only to end up in the sheets to fully calm down. See to it Yoongi can rest easy even while one heart falls deeper and deeper into chaotic love.

It has been for the past two years of denial.

But it cannot mean anything.

It should not.

Because, once it does, it becomes a passion.

A dream to pursue.

And that is forbidden and therefore it will shatter or be burned like music.

Until all there is left are merely ghosts.

The only type of changing the meetings of scared hearts have undergone is a shift in location after the rebel dared to run away again the day Jungkook almost ended it all on the edge of the highest skyscraper.

Barely in time could the youngest of the chaotic band be rescued, the man like an older brother pulling the maknae by the back of an ivory and rose checkered blouse and holding on to the boy until both had regained enough breath after spilling tears of frustrated relief. After all, Yoongi had sworn during the last meeting with the entire group beneath a nightly sparkling spring sky to be a support pillar because he knows what living while feeling useless is like, vouching to do so while Kook rested on his shoulder. Through the high-rising flickering amber flames of the fire pit, the two seemed content at last.

For a little while, everything was okay.

We would be fine.

Would be.

But tonight, on the roof of the abandoned warehouse in the harbour where on the lower floor stands a dusty brown piano, we are not. The damaged knuckles and chafed skin beneath sullen irises tells of barely escaping another arrest after being kicked out a bar again and drunkenly searching for a fight, the scent of cigarettes indicating music has been burned again because the pieces were not good enough.

They never are.

Not to society.

But, to the girl approaching a wild tiger, they are everything.

Though the producer is blind to see it.

‘Yoongi?’ No reaction to the greeting comes as the heavy door to the roof closes and bordeaux Puma sneakers pad with a heavy heart over the asphalt still warm due to the day’s heat. They come to a halt a mere step away from the brooding tiger. ‘You never answered me over text and make me come all the way out here to get a response.’

‘Does it matter?‘ Without so much as a sideways glance, entwined damaged slender fingers maintain a steady melancholic gaze over the dark quiet waters of the harbour. A mocking grin tugs at the corners of the mouth but does not form completely, essentially as joyless as the denied dreamer.

 ‘It does! It fucking does!’

For once, please believe me when I tell you that you’re not nothing.

‘To who, hm?’ At last, colourless irises grace a worried soul with a challenging look but at least attention is pulled enough to actually listen and not simply hear. 

‘To the guys.’ A palm slaps against a rapid beating heart in a constricted chest as lips tremble and a cracking voice rises in volume. ‘To me.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘No, it’s not. We care, Yoongi, all of us.’ The last bit of distance is breached as a hand naturally folds over a frozen shoulder clad in a military green jacket, resting there without being violently shrugged off. 

A sign of listening. 

And thus the argument is pursued on a calmer and more steady yet equally urgent tone. ‘What about Jungkook? You promised to be his supporting pillar. Taehyung is over at Joon’s again, beaten up by his dad and you know it hurts you. Just as much as it hurts us.’ 

Upper arms are enveloped as briefly locked gazes break up, ashen strands hanging low in stubborn ignoring of the guardian angel crouching in front of them. ‘Us, Yoongi. The Bangtan Boys and me. Our family.’

‘I have no family. They were the first to destroy it all.’ Regardless of being unable to see it, lips are undoubtedly pursed in a fight to prevent new tears from falling. Woven digits tremble in barely suppressed crimson nicotine anger, vision blurring with tormenting memories of refusal. 

‘But we build it up together, didn’t we? You know you aren’t-’

‘Shut up.’ An arm lashes out to undo any contact, the impact of the action causing a fall backwards. Nothing but agonizing exhaustion radiates off the snarl on the handsome face that has become loved as more than a mere friend. 

Even while it extorts another for pleasure.

A means to forget.

It means nothing. 

‘I’m tired of speaking. Tired of thinking. We both know where this goes anyway.’ Each sentence is accentuated by a firm demanding kiss sealing off any chance of protest after being roughly helped onto two unsteady feet, the tables turned as it now are the arms of somebody trying to help which are grabbed tightly. 

Held dear and cherished in an incomprehensible manner.

But it is better than nothing. 

‘We can’t keep doing this.’ Had this been pure desire, the shape pressing hotly against the thigh would have been appreciated in a whole different way. Interpreted in a manner not remotely close to the reality of us because it is not sensual wanton craving.

It is pent-up frustration coming to a boiling point.

Fruitless.

A wandering ghost.

A heap of ashes. 

‘Shut up.’ The hands creating an abyss by pushing against a sturdy chest are given other purpose. Nevertheless, the meaning of the distance remains: foolishly to be able to be filled with sincerity. 

One hand is placed on the hip and the other below, simulating a laughable imitation of actual craving as another kiss adds to the poor fancy. ‘Just do what you’re told for once.’

Lips connect once more in saltwater carrying broken wishes and all the dreams that cannot be because of emotions warring with ideals, the correct way of life stained by nicotine and the sharp yet sweet tang of cheap soju. 

Trembling fingers envelop damaged cheeks as slender musically gifted hands tug at the edge of pants, beckoning them to lie down before undoing the belt fastening bleached ripped jeans only to be warmly welcomed again by the palms that only get to hold the face they love in this repeated loveless lovemaking. Knowing the impatience of the tiger, any restrictions to allowing the heated wantonness pressed against the thigh earlier have been removed before wiping away returned tears and lovingly caressing ashen brown locks.

Don’t get your hopes up. It won’t mean anything. It’s just a means of comfort.

Everything is familiar, a piece of the past tainted by crimson and smoke to cling to. 

The warmth spreading throughout as separate souls effortlessly become one, unprotected in wordlessness and thus letting actions say all that tongues cannot. 

The speed of snapping hips, uncaring about pleasure and merely wanting to fuck the pain away. 

The agony of the tug on each tendon keeping the heart inherently belonging to the occasional groan breaking through heavy breaths whispering into the side of the neck. 

The urban scent of cigarettes, ashes and blood.

The possessive iron-like grip on the waist, desperate to be grounded in the moment or simply an anchor into this world while the mind it belongs to tries to flee.

The chase after temporary oblivion together, though one soul remains a step behind to not frighten the other into love.

After all, it has no meaning.

None of this.

It is a ghost we keep.

Preventing us from finding happiness together.

The chance to hear three simple words spill at least once before or after a troubled mind finds brief peace in the arms of the woman he said, no, knows loves him. Nevertheless, Yoongi cannot return the affection.

Cruelly, the hope remains even while lying on the warm concrete, the heat seeping through dishevelled clothes covering the upper part of the body, and embracing the musical genius drifting somewhere in a pleasant ignorant limbo. The same state of being that lashes turned to a beautiful sparkling sky did not reach again and never will during these meetings. Still, it is not minded for this is a more meaningful type of contentment.

Simply lying here among the ashes. 

But it cannot mean anything.

It should not.

Because, once it does, it becomes a passion.

A dream to pursue.

And that is forbidden and therefore it will shatter or be burned like music.

Until all there is left are merely ghosts.

[ardaaman]

Writer’s Month Day 1: Tattoo artist/flower shop AU

This isn’t quite what the prompt called for, but the tattoo/flower shop AU doesn’t do much for me, so I tweaked it a little to fit Arda’aman.

The Kssth Institute of Arcane Learning is as old as legends, and it is only natural, therefore, that it becomes the stuff of legends. There is the rumored secret society of blood mages that holds meetings within its hallowed halls, the basilisk that provides the many statues lining its alcoves, the ancient dragon that haunts the mountain it rests upon, the tunnels in its basements leading to the heart of the Great Dwarven Empire that open only for those of true dwarven blood… all these and more are said to exist, passed around in whispered fragments by the school’s inhabitants.

The younger students tend to scoff at these rumors—after all, no respectable headmaster would allow the study of blood magic to tarnish the school’s reputation, and everyone knows true dragons went extinct long before even the Elemental Incursions—but the older students, those who last long enough to graduate… They know there are some secrets the school will never give up, and they may chuckle at the idea of a basilisk who petrifies failing students or fresh draconic imagery showing up on the mountainside, but they still bring a mirror when called to the headmaster’s office and watch the skies carefully when riding the mountain goats to the gates at the start of each semester.

But there is one rumor everyone can agree on: they say, deep within the halls of the school, there is a tattoo artist. Every generation the position changes hands, passed down from professor to professor like a royal title. Very few know who it is, and those who do will never tell. Whether they won’t or can’t is up for debate.

This tattoo artist can, theoretically function as any other tattoo artist, but their true specialty lies in enchantments. They can charge a tattoo with magic. No, not—they say—like any old enchanted tattoo, which may look pretty with its swirling motion or color changing design. Tattoos from this artist can protect a person from harm, heal injuries, boost energy, enhance luck, and project minor illusions. They are charged with true power.

But there is a downside, they say. If you accept a tattoo from this artist, you will be bound to them for life. Your soul will forever be indebted to them. It may be a month, a year, a decade after they give you the tattoo, but one thing is certain. They will always, always collect their debt.

[recurring-polynya]

Hello! Hope you’re doing well! Forgive me if this question has already been asked, but what is your most favorite AU that you have written?

I'll give you a top 3! These are literally just my favorites, there is no indicator of quality or anything here.

Dr. Renji AU Aizen gets rid of Renji by transferring him to the 4th instead of the 11th, where he learns more than any normal person would ever want to know about bones.

Soul Society Tattoo Artist Hisana never abandons Rukia and as a result, she and Renji never meet in Inuzuri. She grows up as Byakuya's protege, he skips out on the Gotei and draws on people instead. (the link is a bit of a lie because the comics are fine, but the part I really love is the 16k of unfinished teen romance fanfic sitting in my WIPs)

Squad 11 AU Hisana lives, but is so busy coughing that she and Byakuya don't find Rukia until long after she's graduated the Academy...and joined Squad 11 with Renji.

Honorable mention: Dear Wormwood, my beloved, wretched goblin of a bad times zanpakutou-swap AU.

(i have written about one million AU stories, most of which can be found in my short story collection Squad Six is Jerks)

[chire-senbonimagines]

Can I please request Kenpachi or Kensei with a soulmate au?

I have Kenpachi for a different AU in another ask so I’ll go with Kensei this time (but feel free to send in more asks!)

By the way, I love soulmate AUs so I’m going to be using different versions (marks, words, colours etc), which will depend on how I feel haha.

Kensei’s soulmate is younger than him. He knows this because when he left Soul Society, he hadn’t ever had the slightest indication of a soul mate on his skin. 

But then the drawings started. 

He knows they must be in Soul Society because the drawings don’t look like a kids. Kensei has to be careful though and never let on who he is. 

For a long time, he doesn’t draw anything back. He worries his mark could be used to track them, that he’ll never be able to go back to Soul Society anyway so what’s the point. 

But eventually the pull becomes too much. Kensei isn’t really much of an artist but he enjoys drawing patterns and he’s glad that regular ink doesn’t work so his soul mate doesn’t have to live with his tattoo on their stomach or any others he might get. 

When he does draw, it’s pictures of the food he cooked or simplistically drawn expressions when he has no one to rant at and Shinji’s really pissed him off that day. His soul mate is much better at drawing than him and it’s not long before he knows what their zanpakutou looks like. He helps them choose their division when numbers appear on his arm and he circles one with a little question mark in the corner. 

Even after FKT he still keeps his identity quiet from his soulmate and it’s not until he’s settled in his office after Hisagi gave him the tour of the division that he pulls out a lilac marker and draws his divisions symbol.

[reyofgreenplaces]

FIC RECS PART III

It's that time! It's been a while since I've made an update but I've got enough fics to recommend now and so many that I'm excited to share! Yay! This is a brand new list but I've included some fics you may recognize because they have either updated since my last list or finished. This list is extra long because I’ve decided to include a tiny synopsis of the types of story I have included so you know what you’re getting.Here are the links to Part I and Part II. The rules are the same: lots of smut, angst, and fluff. I’m including ones I’m currently reading and finished fics. The categories are the same: in-universe, AU, completed, and listed them in descending order of most recent update, so the top of the list means they’ve updated most recently. There are AU, ABO, movie crossovers, and a lot of smut. Like, a lot. In addition, I have strict non-con/dub-con rules; if consent is not enthusiastically given in a fic I won't read it so don't expect any in this list or any list of mine ever. I follow the Kylo Ren/Rey relationship tag on ao3 and following these blogs here on tumblr: a03feed-kylorey and ao3feed--reylo. Now as always stay hydrated, read this in private (for the smut), and happy reading!

In-Universe:

Songs of Innocence, Songs of Wisdom: Cosmogonika (26/?)

The Bond that Ties Us: moontear (93/?}

Unbidden: Perry_Downing (51/?)

Dangerous Connections: Nyaroon (17/30)

Footnotes: Camucia (18/22)

Landscape with a blur of conquerors: diasterisms (42/50)

Marked: NopeNotGonnaDoIt (20/24)

Guardian of the Night: way_of_the_pathfinder (8/?)

Steady as we Burn: Pacificwanderer (CNichole) (16/18)

If Only: Disney_Dreamers43 (2/?)

Obligation: Ernzo (15/17)

No one but you: faequeentitania (5/7)

Alternative Methods(of Pain Relief): Camucia (6/?)

Alternative Universe:

And just like that: resplendently (13/14)*

Boss/employee AU

Waiting for epilogue

The Haves and the Have Nots: MissHarper (6/?)

TA/student AU

Glory's Fray: avudvampirehunter (39/75)

Roman gladiator/servant girl AU

When the moon met the sun in the sky: RebelRebel (10/20)

Feudal Japan fantasy; childhood sweethearts/separated, emperor/samurai

This is where you left me: SageMcMae (9/?)

This Is Where You Left Me/Star Wars crossover between Phillip and Rey

Hit me with your best shot: SageMcMae (28/?)

Martial arts/enemies to friends to lovers AU

Two Truths & a Lie: SageMcMae (11/?)

Boss/employee AU

Parallel Lines: niteowl29 (11/?)

Student/teacher horse ranch AU

A truth universally acknowledged: Pride_And_Prejudice_In_Space (9/?)

Community theater/pride and prejudice AU

Find my nest of salt, everything's my fault: Like_A_Dove (8/?)*

Side story to We Could Plant A House from Ben’s POV

The Soiled Doves: fernybranca (27/29)

Pride & Prejudice/victorian era AU

Touched: ReyloRobyn2011 (59/60)

Ballet dancer/Instructor AU

Perfect Illusion: WinglessOne (21/25)

Vampire/witch AU

Forever Loyal: moonlightgisaeng (7/?)

mulan/samurai AU

Just as human: GoodnightMoon (MythologicalHoe) (6/?)

Dystopian future; Android cop/rogue android

Soul Rest: dark_and_terrible (26/?)

Witch/witch hunter AU

Rolling the Dice: MizuPheonix (10/26)

Dungeons and Dragons/online gaming AU

Genesis: Eris97 (4/?)

Zombie apocalypse/last people on earth AU

Into the great laugh of mankind: diasterisms (2/3)

Professor/grad student archaeology AU

General Incivility: Like_A_Dove (7/?)

Pride & Prejudice AU; boss/employee AU

Don't feed the bears: Ria84 (15/?)

Canadian mounties AU

Say it with sugar: fettaccini_alfreylo (13/17)

Chocolate shop/mental health and anxiety AU; very soft Ben/very soft Rey

Unravel: All_Hail_Reylo(McDanno50) (1/?)

college monsters AU

Heat in your gaze: Chibirini1 (10/?)

ABO; Clan leader Ben/independent Rey

The Only Exception: CartoonJessie (27/?)

Psychiatric ward/mental health AU

Permanent Changes: JustAnotherSailorScout (5/?)

Soulmate/tattoos AU

Stay Low: NewerConstellations (17/18)

Engineering student/Architect AU

Alluring Roomates: R3N_lotus (4/?)

New roommate AU

Something, anything: midnightdrives (2/?)

Music store/coffee shop AU

User not found: violethoure666 (2/3)

IT tech awkward Ben/needs computer help Rey; Dom/sub themes

Cabeceo: Lotuspadawan (4/?)

College Professor/student ballroom dancing AU

I wasn't expecting you: SuchaPrettyPoison (6/?)

College students/texting relationship AU

Chalk and Cheese: LoveofEscapism (11/?)

Childhood sweethearts/boss/employee AU

Effloresce: lovelydarkanddeep (14/?)

Flowershop/tattoo parlor AU

The sun never sets: asfragileasaword (3/?)

Professor/student AU

Wolves: AlbaStarGazer (19/34)

ABO 

How to save a life: kellybellefiction (3/?)

Hospital AU; doctor/nurse AU

Gehénnam: Hoodedmutt (2/?)

angels/demons AU

It's a match: sadboykylo (28/30)

Online dating/childhood enemies AU

Bringing the house down: ladydemelza (2/?)

Restaurant AU; Bartender Ben/Waitress Rey

How little were know: gopherbroke (12/?)

ABO; Professor Rey/Professor Ben

Temperature: arroways (9/?)

ABO; Alpha Doctor Ben/Confused Omega Rey

We transcend time and space: EdenMiasma (8/?)

star wars crossover through alternate realities

Algorithms: greyorchids (9/14)

ABO; IT tech/CEO AU

Muse: Circe87 (8/?)

artist/ballet dancer AU

Finished Fics:

Written in Chalk: wanderingbarks (18/18)

Professor/student AU

House arrest: animal (32/32)

Shy neighbor/felon neighbor AU

The Mating Service: AlbaStarGazer (32/34)*

Online dating/ABO AU

The Benefits of Research: AttackoftheDarkCurses, thebuildingsnotonfire (6/6)

Rey is a fanfic writer taking smut requests and kylo is available for research

Waiting by the sea: Reylorobyn2011 (10/10)

Pirate/lost at sea AU

The brightest hour: murakamism (22/22)

Professor/student AU; poetry

This is the sign you've been looking for: RebelRebel (9/10)*

salvage shop girl/artist AU

Creature of darkness: bunilicious (7/7)

sleepy hollow AU

Like red but not quite: KyloTrashForever (37/39)*

Punk rockstar/girl in pink AU

The lamb's thirst: animal (15/16)*

Dystopian society with socially awkward girl/quiet patient guy

Waiting for epilogue

Might I but moor tonight: dietplainlite (1/1)

spies on opposite sides/victorian era AU

Darling, so it goes: akosmia (12/12)

Pretend relationship/friends to lovers

Into the woods: KyloTrashForever (29/29)

Beauty and the Beast/ABO AU

Burnt Bacon: WaterlilyRose (3/3)

Logan Lucky/Star Wars crossover between Adam’s character Clyde and Rey

Shadow song: SageMcMae (12/12)

Demon/mechanic girl AU

Same eyes, different people: SageMcMae (20/20)

Anastasia AU, Jedi Ben/Jedi Rey

Go I know not whither and fetch I know not what: voicedimplosives (12/12)

1990′s Russia, Russian mobster/American tourist AU

Where is my mind?: Polkadotdotdot (14/14)

Mental health facility AU; Monitor/patient AU

The rebel side of heaven: jeeno2 (11/11)

Friends with benefits/virgins AU

The haunted heart: fedupwithfairytales (1/1)

Haunted house oneshot AU

Say my name: Graendoll (10/10)

Parole officer/ex-con AU

Firewater: Polkadotdotdot (30/30)

Logan Lucky/Star Wars crossover between Adam’s character and Rey

Fidelis ad mortem(faithful unto death): Reylorobyn2011 (18/18)

Lawyer Ben/Police Captain Rey; childhood sweethearts

Dreams of a throne: violethoure666 (1/1)

Dreaming force bond oneshot

Rainfall: dark_and_terrible (15/15)

Jane Austen/arranged marriage AU

One night stand: dark_and_terrible (18/18)

Childhood friends/ruined by one awkward night/reunited

Disparate pieces: aldeeraan (24/24)

Lawyers AU; Boss/employee AU

Murphy's law: Eskayrobot, Poaxath (1/1)

Road trip oneshot

Baby, it's just biology: Polkadotdotdot (32/32)

ABO; professor/student AU

Practice makes perfect: violethoure666 (3/3)

Pretend relationship/friends to lovers AU

[ranier-layarte]

LONG Character Survey: Ranier Leveilleur

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Ranier Kyran Layarte Leveilleur

NICKNAME: Ran, Raven

AGE: 21-25 (depending on expac)

BIRTHDAY: 1st Sun of the 2nd astral moon

ETHNIC GROUP: Au ra (Xaela)

NATIONALITY: Eorzean – From Ul'dah

LANGUAGE(S): Eorzean,

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: No

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Isn't this the same as the above?

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Married

CLASS: Weapon Master

• Proficient in almost all martial weapons.

• Tends to carry multiple weapons at all times.

• Prefers Axes out of all the bladed weaponry

HOMETOWN / AREA: Ul'dah

CURRENT HOMETOWN/ AREA: Shirogane Mansion

PROFESSION(S): WoL, Scion, Machinist, Businessman, Crafter

PHYSICAL: Extremely fit, exercises daily. Muscular build

HAIR: Black/Dark Blue

EYES: Crimson

NOSE: Average, straight, roman-esque

FACE: Straight essentially a greek nose. (At least if I had to try and describe it)

LIPS: A bit on the thinner side, very lightly pink.

COMPLEXION: A mix of Fair and Medium?

BLEMISHES: None

SCARS: Scar on left thigh from stab wound, Scar on left midsection, and upper right thigh.

TATTOOS: WoL tattoo on the palm of his right hand. (Working on giving him another)

HEIGHT: 7'4

WEIGHT: 330 LBS/ 150kg

BUILD: Tall, Muscular, Fit,

FEATURES: None

ALLERGIES: None, at least not yet.

USUAL HAIRSTYLE: Long hair parted in the middle framing the face. Pulled into a ponytail and held with a silver bead big enough for the tail.

USUAL FACE LOOK: Around 40% expressionless, 30% Scowling, 20% Reflective, 10% happy.

USUAL CLOTHING: Higher end clothing generally a mix of casual with formal preferring long pants and a short sleeved shirt. Boots of some kind and armor of some kind at all times. Either under or over the clothes having a preference for the bulkier armors.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR(S): Dying and thereby becoming unable to prevent future deaths and incidents. A fear of the unknown. (Which is part of why he tries to prepare for so many things)

ASPIRATION(S): Being able to amass enough wealth to live comfortably and to continue making the lives of the less fortunate easier. Helping create a better society for all.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Empathetic, Compassionate, Humanitarian, Perseverance, Fairness, Courageous, Loving, Self discipline, Reliable, Thoughtful, Patient

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Bossy, Jealous, Secretive, Grumpy, Harsh, Aloof, Stubborn, Cruel (Only to enemies but that doesn't really matter to people does it?) Arrogant (In some things though less now)

ZODIAC: Pisces

TEMPERAMENT: Mix of choleric and melancholic.

SOUL TYPE(S):  King, Warrior, Server (In that order)

ANIMALS: Raven, Bear

VICE HABIT(S): Training, Fixing machines, Drinking, Rubbing Chin, 

FAITH: The Twelve (Loosely)

GHOSTS?: I mean if you've seen them you can't deny them.

AFTERLIFE?: With everything we see there has to be right?

REINCARNATION?: Yes, it's clear there is.

ALIENS?: Yes.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Leftist

ECONOMIC PREFERENCE: Prosperous, everyone has what they need. Along with the means to go beyond that if they are willing and able.

SOCIO POLITICAL POSITION: I think there’s enough to go on.

EDUCATION LEVEL: Higher end of the spectrum, attended sharlayan schooling for a few years of his life. (Around three) Was home taught and by other teachers. Extensive knowledge in numerous subjects such as Machinery, Technology, Gunsmithing, Gemology, Business. Holding the equivalent of a mixture of Graduate or Masters in the subjects.

FAMILY.

FATHER: Kyran Layarte

MOTHER: Sahar Layarte

SIBLINGS: Kyari Layarte

EXTENDED FAMILY:

NAME MEANING(S): Ranier (Rainier with out the first I Meaning Wise army apparently)Kyran (Beam of Light) Sahar (Early morning or Dawn) Kyari (???)

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: My families connection to history? My connection? My father was one of the survivors of the hotgo tribe also. Does fighting in the Calamity among all the other events count?

FAVORITES.

BOOK: Whatever has his current interest, it can very.

MOVIE PLAY: Does this mean Movie or Play?

5 SONGS:

• “Shock me” Baroness

• “Up In The Air” Thirty Seconds To Mars

• “Rise” League of Legends, Glitch Mob, The Word Alive

• “Unbreakable” Of Mice and Men

• “Drown” Bring Me The Horizon

DEITY: Halone

HOLIDAY: Valentione's day

MONTH: March

SEASON: Fall

PLACE: Beside his wife or workshop.

WEATHER: Light rain

SOUND: The turning of pages, the sound of rain, metal moving against each other.

SCENT(S): Smoke, Metal, Old books, and sweat

TASTE(S):  Dulcet, Spicy,

FEEL(S): Rocks, Silk, Smooth metals,

ANIMAL(S): This was listed before.

NUMBER: 1? I don't know.

COLORS: Black, Blue, Red, Gold, Silver

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Metalworking, Singing, Sewing, Gem Cutting, Technology, Smithing, Machinery, Dexterous.

BAD AT: Getting rest even now, Not over exerting himself, Not overthinking potential scenarios that may never happen. Dealing with almost all animals, Even now sometimes talking about what bothers him too well, but he’s gotten much better over the years/expansions.

TURN ONS: Caring, Helpful, Courageous, Educated, Aggressive. Listening, Reliable, 

TURN OFFS: Selfishness, Boastful, Belligerent, Cruelty, Intolerant, Racism, Weak willed, Careless,

HOBBIES: Creating new things be it machines, armor, clothes, weapons, tools, etc. Working on the same as before. Reading, Exercising, Cooking. Shopping.

TROPES: Pragmatic Hero, Bad ass boast, Big Fancy House, Chekhov's Gun, Determinator, Don't You Dare Pity Me, Genius Bruiser, Heroic Build, It's All My Fault, No Challenge Equals No Satisfaction, Super toughness, Friend to All Children, The Chosen One, The Ace, Ain't Too Proud To Beg, Always Save The Girl, Berserk Button, Death glare, Excuse me while I multi task, Game face, Hypocrite, Lady and Knight, Not So Stoic, Not So Invincible After all, Red Eyes, Take Warning, Stern Teacher, Undying Loyalty, The Power of Love

AESTHETIC TAGS: Workshops, Tools, Kitchens, Weaponry, Guns, Armor, Fine Clothes, Rain, Feathers, Azure Skies, Romance.

VOICE CLAIM(S): Keith Silverstein, (Speaking voice) John Rzeznik (Singing) John Baizley (Singing)

FC INFO.

MAIN  FC(S): Free company? Azure Talons.

ALT FC(S): What?

OLDER FC(S): What?

YOUNGER  FC(S): What?

GENDERBENT FC(S): What the fuck?

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: IF YOU COULD WRITE YOUR CHARACTER YOUR WAY IN THEIR OWN MOVIE, WHAT WOULD IT BE CALLED, WHAT STYLE WOULD IT BE FILMED IN, AND WHAT WOULD IT BE ABOUT?:

• I genuinely don’t know. Something with the grandeur of lord of the rings maybe? But with the ability to add comedy and romance in the proper way. I'm all for serious movies but I enjoy the ability to add a well executed joke or sweet moment. It also would probably not just be a single film. Taking the general events and using my fics as material would probably be fine.

I’d have to think about it a lot more than I will right now

As for the name, well, I don't really have many options. But, probably something with Final Fantasy XIV as the main title. Give it a JRPG title I suppose as a sub title. Sort of like Warriors Dissonance or Uncovered Stories.

Q2: WHAT WOULD THEIR SOUNDTRACK / SCORE SOUND LIKE?:

• Ambient, switching to full of energy, able to convey emotion. Again mentioning LOTR, the score by Howard shore is really great and able to accompany many scenes in such a fantastic manner. As for the other bits perhaps the addition of artist tracks such as from favorite bands and those songs that have meaning to him. Like the ones listed above. 

Q3: WHY DID YOU START WRITING THIS CHARACTER?:

• As a way to work on and show that, a character doesn't just have to be overly reliant on tropes and cliches. That those are good as part of them but not as defining traits of them. Along with breaking some of those. Like how all protagonists always have dead parents, what's up with that? I enjoy seeing characters that try to break their molds and be more than that.

Q4: WHAT FIRST ATTRACTED YOU TO THIS CHARACTER?:

• My general thing in any game where you can create your own character has always been. To make who you'd want to be in this universe. I did that and then worked on it and reworked things until I got what I have now. So also, yes, he was a self insert.

Q5: DESCRIBE THE BIGGEST THING YOU DISLIKE ABOUT YOUR MUSE:

• Hard one I suppose but. I'd say how he is capable of doing so much. Even though I work with it as it is a key part of him, it's still hard to make him feel right, feel human when he's got these clear incredible strengths. He's very proficient at so many things some would maybe say he's a mary sue type of character. I make an effort to work on how he became that way to offset it. So it's a lot of extra work than if I had him being a more archetypal hero of his type. I may dislike this the most but I also like it. Love hate relationship you know?

Q6: WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN COMMON WITH YOUR MUSE?:

• A good part of our attitudes and personality though on his end they are greater generally. Along with our want to be as best as we can at certain things. 

Q7: HOW DOES YOUR MUSE FEEL ABOUT YOU?:

• Honestly, and in my current state. He would probably be very upset with me and to just know me or the hand I have in his creation and self.

Q8: WHAT CHARACTERS DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE INTERESTING INTERACTIONS WITH?

• Alisaie Leveilleur – She is the main one being his main love interest, girlfriend, and wife later. Though overall he sees her as an equal and a partner, which is part of the reason their relationship grows as much as it does. Along with giving someone who he can trust in and rely on, and vice versa.

• Finn Hogveart - Who harasses Ranier often enough especially with his pet and regarding moogles.

• Alphinaud Leveilleur - and him sometimes get along strangely due to Ranier's relationship with his sister. For a long time he tried to spy on Ranier and make sure he was good for his sister even though he knew he was a good person.

•  Cid Garlond - Ranier sees him as a mentor of sorts, along with someone that he can bounce ideas off of and work with on projects leading to a solid relationship between the two. The two sometimes bicker regarding their work but it's always just them being passionate for the projects.

• Gerolt Blackthorn – Similar to cid in some ways. Ranier looks up to Gerolt and his ability to continue making such amazing creations. Wanting to learn more regarding the processes means Ranier visits him when possible, bringing some drinks for him when he does. Almost having a relationship like bros. Ranier also sometimes has gone to try and sway Rowena on his behalf to lower his debt.

There are more but I don’t want to make this too much longer.

Q9: WHAT GIVES YOU INSPIRATION TO WRITE YOUR MUSE?

• I do not control the write, also Alisaie.

Q10: HOW LONG DID THIS TAKE YOU TO COMPLETE?:

Uhhhh maybe an hour all together. Over the course of three hours.

==========

Tagged by: @amandafullmetal​ @lyllyan-weiss

Tagging: @heyafinney​ @anikisbox​ and anyone who wants to do it that sees this.

[cest-la-vieve]

Pins and Needles (Peter Parker x OFC)

Summary: A Peter Parker x OFC Soulmate!AU in which any injuries suffered by one person are also suffered by their soulmate. If someone absentmindedly doodles on their arm, doodles will randomly appear on their soulmate’s arm as well. Callie has dreamed her entire life of meeting her soulmate, even through the countless injuries they’ve suffered, but decides enough is enough. She wants to do something for herself this time.

Warnings: mild swearing, mentions of sex, tattoo, needles, injuries

A/N: I haven’t written in years but decided to try to jump back into it with this! Please leave feedback, comments, questions, whatever!! Thank you guys and I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1467

The dull buzzing of the tattoo machine was all that filled the room as Callie took a deep breath and prepared herself for the pain. She knew that this probably wasn’t the smartest decision she had ever made, but she also knew it wasn’t the dumbest. Society did not smile fondly upon those who got permanently marked before meeting their soulmates, mostly because then their soulmate would be unable to consent to the tattoo. Of course, Callie’s soulmate, whoever they were, never seemed to have much regard for how their actions affected her, so why would she care about how this may (or may not) impact their life.

Her earliest memory of her soulmate’s misfortune goes back to when she was around 8 or 9 years old. She was sitting in her math class and her teacher, Mrs. Meyers, had been droning on and on for what seemed like years about something to do with fractions and simplification when all of a sudden she felt a searing pain spread across her forehead. Her tablemates had gasped in disgust as a purple and brown bruise slowly spread until it covered the majority of the left side of her forehead and dipped down to her cheekbone. Unfortunately, that was just the beginning. Once she hit high school the injuries quickly escalated. Each week it was something different. A sprained wrist here, a broken rib there, but by far the worst injury was when she woke up in the middle of the night covered in blood. 

Her parents had rushed her to the hospital, where she had to get 17 stitches for a gash on the lower right side of her stomach. She was laid up for weeks and scarred forever, with nothing better to do than daydream about the trouble her soulmate was encountering quite often. She thought that maybe they had abusive parents but quickly ruled that out as she realized that the patterns and types of injuries didn’t fit. Then she thought that maybe they were just super clumsy, she herself was no stranger to the odd fall or stubbed toe, but this was happening far too often to be merely a collection of accidents. At first, she had been angry at this unknown person who was meant to be her greatest joy in life but instead was causing her so much pain. Yet, as she grew older, she realized that they had to have been experiencing all of these injuries too. As soon as she understood that, she was determined to meet this person and to care for them to the best of her ability. She’d patch them up and take every injury in stride because obviously they were not living the happiest life and it was her job to be there for them. 

From then on, each injury was simply a means to an end. A stepping stone in her journey to be the best soulmate and take care of them. A roadblock until they could comfort each other and maybe even stop the injuries altogether. All she had to do was suffer through them until she could be happy with the love of her life.

Her positive outlook on pain was very quickly demolished. A week before her 18th birthday she woke up covered in small bruises. She jumped up from her bed to look into the large mirror perched on her dresser and saw angry red scratch marks painting their way from the small of her back to her shoulders. The connection was made in her mind instantly: this son of a bitch had had sex. As taboo as getting a tattoo before meeting your soulmate was, having sex before meeting your soulmate was worse. 

For Callie, who had put up with God knows how many injuries for this person, this complete and utter betrayal shook her. She spent all week thinking about it. Every moment was spent picturing them with someone else. Heartbreak wasn’t even the way she would describe it. It was more like her heart was being torn from her chest while she was completely paralyzed, unable to do anything but feel the pain consuming her in one fell swoop.

Getting her tattoo was her small form of retaliation. She was finally 18 and legally allowed to enter a tattoo parlor and despite all of the disgusted glances thrown her way as she walked towards the only shop in town, she was excited.

Entering the shop, she was greeted with warm smiles and she breathed a sigh of relief, the small amount of hesitation she had immediately dissipating. She was ushered over to a couch and given a mug full of tea, being asked to wait a few minutes while the artist finished up with his customer. She gingerly sipped her tea and took the opportunity to look around the shop. Hundreds of sketches, both in color and in monochrome, littered the walls and counters. The drawings varied in size, some large enough to cover her torso and others just big enough to fit on the palm of her hand. 

Her favorite was an intricate portrait of a lion with an elegant crown neatly perched on its mane. Each hair looked like the utmost effort was used to draw it and she could almost hear the sound of its powerful roar as its jaw opened as wide as it possibly could. She spent a few more minutes letting her eyes wander over the countless photos and sketches before the tattoo artist, whose name she found out was Kyle, sat down on the opposite side of the couch and beamed at her.

“So, what brings you in?” He asked, leaning back with his arms behind his head and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.

“Oh well um. I, uh, wanted to see if I could get a tattoo.” She mumbled, ducking her head so her hair partially covered her face.

“Hey, don’t be nervous! I know it’s kind of an intimidating venue but we’re not here to judge. I am gonna need you to speak up though, after years of working with these machines my hearing isn’t exactly what it used to be,” he laughed.

Callie’s mouth broke into a small smile, she sat up straighter, and with a confident voice said, “I’m here to get a tattoo.”

Kyle smiled again and they talked for a long time about what kind of tattoo, where she wanted it, and why she was getting it. She finally settled on getting a small tattoo on the inside of her wrist, somewhere she could easily hide it and where it wouldn’t hurt as much. She moved over to Kyle’s chair and he put on some gloves and pulled out all of his supplies. He explained to her how he had to sterilize and clean the area then transfer the stencil onto her wrist. Callie just nodded and began to take deep breaths, her previous anxiety quickly returning as she realized just how real the moment was. With one last reassuring smile, Kyle set to work, using the red and blue ink to trace the design.

About an hour and a half later, it was done. It hadn’t been easy and she was sure that her soulmate was probably in a lot of distress at the moment, but that thought disappeared as quick as it had come once she remembered why she had gotten the tattoo in the first place. Kyle wiped off the excess ink and gently lifted her wrist so that she could see the finished product. Callie managed to hold in a squeal of joy and instead went for a gasp of awe as she looked down and admired the little red and blue outline of her favorite superhero’s mask on her wrist. She couldn’t be happier with the results, but a small nagging voice in the back of her head was wondering if it had the desired effect on her soul’s counterpart.

On the other side of New York, another young adult did not manage to contain his squeals quite as effectively as Callie had. In the middle of his biology class, he jumped out of his chair with a shout. As the entire class turned to look at him and the popular kids in the back snickered, he muttered an apology and sat back down, all the while doing his best not to make eye contact with anyone. The smallest bit of anger coursed through his veins as he pulled up the sleeve of his sweater to stare at the permanently inked Spider-Man mask on his wrist. Today had been a rough day for him to begin with, but one thing was for certain: Peter Parker was absolutely, positively not happy with his soulmate right now.

[arundolyn]

broken-clover replied to your post

“If you're up for it, could I maybe request some cute KaguRagu...”

Bruh go for the AU ones too I want to know all you've got I am in love

THE BIGGEST ONE IS SOUL EATER AU CAUSE LIKE. TO QUOTE MY DOCUMENT OF NOTES

they have to work kinda hard to resonate properly and like. dancing canonically helps with that SO. dates probably count. general bonding exercises which is cute

there’s not even really a big moment of “will you go out with me” as much as Kagura’s about that life they just both eventually go “WAIT WAS THIS A DATE WHAT HAPPENED I MISSED IT”

the first time anyone sees them fight together they’re all like ??? DID I MISS SOMETHING??? I THOUGHT RAGNA DIDN’T HAVE A MESITER??? KAGURA HAS A WEAPON. WH and the same happens when Naoto and Hibiki partner up

also to bring up naohibi. Naoto has black blood and is gradually destroying himself with it until Hibiki becomes his emotional support bird and Naoto and Ragna both have to get used to having partners because they’re so used to being alone/with someone they hate

Kagura’s parents have a fit when he says he wants to switch weapons cause Duodecim families are generationally legendary meisters and their weapons have to be high caliber and Kagura you literally found this boy on the street

Ragna got kidnapped to be experimented on kinda young so he’s disconnected from society so Kagura catches him up to speed on things like “I heard Deus Machina Nirvana had 8 abs. That she was fucking ripped”

i have many aus im never gonna do anything with like. demon prince Hazama gag reel type au vis a vis forcing Ragna to marry him but Ragna’s a selkie and Haz stole his skin so he can’t leave him but Kagura comes to Haz’s house one day to idk drop off fish or smth and Ragna’s there alone and eventually gets him to help find it and either tells him to keep it so he can be with him instead or gets it back and goes back to the sea and it’s very sad

kemonomimi au where Kagura won’t stop petting Ragna’s bunny ears cause. soft....

modern au where Kagura is weirdly enamored by Ragna’s tongue piercing and the huge tattoo of his emblem on his back and Ragna is like dude why is my neighbor hot this sucks

au my friend came up with where Kagura’s an actor and Ragna’s his makeup artist and he flirts with him constantly and it’s hard for Ragna to concentrate sometimes because Kagura’s too pretty

I have a lot more aus I’ve thought of at some point but that’s what I’ve got off the top of my head

[winebleeds-a]

🎶😡🔮

RELATIONSHIP HEADCANON  (accepting! feat @strxnzo & @unnwin for reasons)

does liz have a type?

charlie… you know this by now… you even have this type… calling you on them glasses.

    but, um, her type really just… depends on her mood. for one night stands, she’ll try to find those who are just as confident as her. mainly because she wants that challenge. like, you also know about the hatefucking. though really it’s more about her dominance more than the actual act & these people will most likely never become serious relationships. when she’s just wants to fuck, then yeah she’ll find the ones she can fluster easier (sorry, ben, you were in this latter camp from the getgo).      for actual relationships, i’ve notice a trend where she sticks with individuals that bear the weight of their own struggles or have overcome these struggles. again, using ben as an example, he overcame his drug addiction but still have his depression & drinking & smoking. eliza overcame her past but still has her insecurities & temper & drinking… huh… wait a second… drinking… you could say she surrounds herself with those that enable her drinking as well. oh.      outside of struggles, i’ve also found she leans towards artists. mainly musicians. or those who release their artistic taste & struggles through the form of tattoos.  she ends up having longer term relationships with those that are more submissive yet allow her to soften up and find herself submitting to a lot of their own decisions (never would liz have a dog w/o eliza). often times, that mean softer souls that liz knows they don’t really deserve her blunt force trauma. other times, the stubborn souls that are patient enough to warm her icy exterior, or are just indifferent that she is, well, indifferent.      physically though? yeah. she prefers curvier women, then big butts & brown eyes on anyone. she also looks at how someone carries themselves before anything else, but that goes back to her one night stand system. she judges people fairly quickly to predict how the encounter will go before words are spoken. ah, getting off topic.

what are deal breakers?

      eggsy…. and chandler.

does liz believe in soul mates?

      no. even in worlds where soul mates are a main aspect of the society ( re: the sharing pain au with @feuillesmort ), liz still doesn’t consider soul mates are a tangible idea. you don’t have the equations to prove or disprove, so therefore, she concludes it’s insignificant.