#and she got a cool dragon teeth necklace out of it so its okay!!!!

[strawberrywiitch]

🦊Endless Expansion | Nyx🦊

#nyx my kitsune trickster domain cleric #love her very much shes so goofy #shes playing the panflute azazel bought for her #shes gotten a lot better since the day she was gifted it!! #she loves learning and trying new things so learning how to play music has been so fun to her #she has enjoyed her time with the shattered memories crew #you know #despite fighting a dragon but no one died so it was fine!!! #and she got a cool dragon teeth necklace out of it so its okay!!!! #Nyx #my art #shattered memories #my character #dnd art #d&d art #oc #digital art

[scribbling-stiks]

Retrievers - XXVI - Lizards

Russia is about to answer with a reluctant 'yes' when he hears shouting outside.

'Oh no.'

"Stay here," Russia orders, turning on his heels.

He runs out the backdoor and doesn't pay Alabama's shouting any mind. He rushes into the backyard. Suddenly, something comes flying through the trees, crashing through blackberry spines.

Another humanoid monster tumbles through the air and hits the ground, dredging up mud as it carves a trail into the dirt. Dixie runs after it, Mississippi on his tail.

"I knew I shouldn't've pushed my luck!" Dixie exclaims, his fists clenched at his sides and a nasty sneer on his face.

Russia runs forward when Dixie turns around and shoves Mississippi to the side. Another creature lunges right for where the teen had been standing and Dixie reels back, punching it. It shrieks and flies out of view. Russia can hear it crashing through the plant life, and one of the trees seems to collapse because of it.

'Damn, I'm lucky I didn't get that when he punched me. I would not have kept my face.'

"Get inside and get you your brother! Stay out of trouble!" Dixie demands, shoving Mississippi toward the house.

Mississippi stumbles and Russia grabs his shoulder, steadying him before letting him go. Russia watches as Mississippi sprints back into the house. He yanks Alabama from the porch and into the door as he runs in. The door slams shut and Russia runs to Dixie's side.

"What are we dealing with?" Russia asks, clenching his hands into fists.

"A bunch of human-looking lizard monsters came out of nowhere. It's got to have somethin' to do with your magic earlier."

Russia spins around at movement and decks a hissing monster in its face. Then a larger creature bursts through the treeline with a loud hiss that makes Russia's blood run cold. He stares up at it and is almost blinded by the sunlight its scaly face reflects. It's almost three meters tall and looks almost like a huge dragon, but more human.

'It looks like the gorgons Greece talks about sometimes.'

"Shit!" Dixie yells.

It roars, and five more creatures creep out of the woodwork. The smaller ones charge, and Dixie throws them back, one by one. Russia eyes the largest of the group, his mind spitting thoughts a mile a minute.

The largest towers over them, its forked tongue flicking into the open air. Its eyes narrow and it begins scampering toward the house.

'I need to take that one out before it finds one of the kids.'

The smaller creatures begin to surround him.

'How am I going to do that?'

Russia grabs a slimy, reptilian arm from the fray and yanks the creature attached to it into the air. He flings it at the largest creature. The two collide, and the smaller one yelps, but neither seemed hurt in the crash, only angry.

Dixie ducks and weaves between the claws, sending them flying back with well-aimed hits.

Russia's head swivels around and he spots the thick trunk of a pecan tree behind him, its knots are worn down from climbing. Russia turns back to see the creature spitting and running toward him at inhuman speeds. It's a second away when Russia starts running directly for the tree.

"I hope you have a plan, Ruski!"

'I hope this works.'

Russia plants his feet into the base and runs up the side. The bark pushes against his boots. He hooks his heels onto one of the larger knots and springs off into the air. He raises his hands over his head, and the world flips. He watches the treetops stab the sky from five meters in the air. The sound of wind fills his ears, and winter air caresses his face.

He leans his head back and spots the thing reaching up at him.

He reaches and takes its wrists into vise tight grips. It digs its talons into Russia's arms, but Russia holds tighter. He kicks one of his legs out underneath him and bends his knees. He watches the ground approach him and yanks back with his hands. The thing shrieks and Russia watches its feet leave the ground.

It follows his momentum and Russia smirks.

'Good.'

Russia's left leg hits the ground, closely followed by his right. The thing flies over his head when Russia whips it forward. It rushes down to the ground in a blur, and its spine cracks loud enough to leave Russia's ears ringing.

It begins to dissolve and Russia releases its arms. He ignores the burning his blood and the slime cause while they mix on his skin. He spins on his toes and catches one of the smaller ones charging at him. He picks it up by its neck and rolls it at the four others running at him. The monsters fall over like pins, and Dixie grabs two of them and conks their heads together.

Russia gets ready to dispatch the other three when automatic gunfire rings out behind him. The monsters drop and start to dissolve.

Russia turns around to see Finland standing in the doorway, lowering her gun. Behind her are Mississippi and Alabama, who are poking their heads out around her. Finland smiles and offers a wave. Russia grins, relieved.

"WOO!" Dixie cheers.

Then a hand hits Russia's shoulder, and Russia turns to see Dixie looking at him with an impressed look.

"That was a cool trick you did there," Dixie comments.

"Thank you," Russia replies, rubbing at the scratches on his wrists.

Russia looks a little closer to see states, provinces, and countries alike watching through the windows. Russia smiles and begins walking toward the door. He's welcomed back inside, and he and Dixie are greeted by applause.

Russia disappears into the first-floor bathroom and begins scrubbing the bloody, slimy mess from his arms. He does notice with worry that the scratches had begun to turn green.

Russia walks back out and wrings his numbing hands.

"Russia? Is everything okay?" Montana asks.

Russia silently shows her his hands, and she gasps, horrified.

"AH! LOUISIANA! HELP!" she shrieks.

Russia suddenly finds himself shoved back on the couch and Louisiana prods at the wounds. New York stands by, arms full of bandages. Louisiana sighs and waves her hand out beside her. Someone hands her a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, and Louisiana dumps it over Russia's arms without warning.

Then, she shoves salt onto it, and Russia yowls. He throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut and he tries to keep his trembling arms still.

"I know, but I have to stop this before it causes irreversible damage."

Russia clenches his teeth and watches through tears as the green recedes. The sensation returns to his arms and hands, and Louisiana rinses the wounds out with a water bottle. She pats it dry and New York begins securing butterfly bandages and wrapping the whole thing in gauze.

"Russia?!" America yells from the stairs.

"He's down here!" Finland calls.

America clumsily stumbles down the stairs, and Russia tries to smile. America hurries forward and falls onto the couch next to Russia.

"Are you okay?!" America asks, gently holding the bandages.

"Yes," Russia says between his teeth.

America reaches up and wipes the tears from Russia's cheeks. Russia lets his shoulders fall and he turns his head toward America and tries again to smile at America.

"I saw you by the way," America says, tenderly holding Russia's cheeks, "it was amazing."

"Thank you," Russia mumbles, trying to blink away tears.

Russia leans down and America pecks Russia's forehead. Russia closes his eyes and tries to ignore the pulsing in his arms.

"Here," America says, gently grasping at Russia's arms.

Russia allows America to take them, and America rubs them. Russia senses the static around him, and he reaches toward the magic. There is a tug in his chest and he opens his eyes. But instead of seeing the normal world, everything is glowing. Russia sniffles and the sounds around him get drowned out.

Russia stares around. America shimmers, and his chest is light blue. It concentrates around his chest. Looking further, he sees Arizona with a heart of flames and Massachusetts surrounded by an aura of green. Arizona's fire looks more solid, and the other colors look far more transparent.

Threads of white circle around outside. Russia is completely enthralled watching them swirl, his eyes like that of an infant. Russia reaches out and watches the wide threads flow through the window and swirl around his hands.

He takes a deep breath and feels the strands begin to flow through his chest, his heart. He looks down and sees himself begin glowing a bright, pale pink. He turns back and sees America's magic flicker. He instinctively places his hands onto America's chest and begins to carefully give America some of the magic that flows through him.

He's careful to try to control it, knowing what happened to the necklace.

Russia looks away from the white glowing in his hands and sees America staring at him, his mouth open. The flickering stops and Russia blinks and pulls his hands away. The pulling in his chest disappears, and so do the colors.

Russia looks around and finds that he could hear a pin drop.

"What?" Russia asks.

~

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Table of Contents

[jimlingss]

A Fair(y) Crime

➜ Words: 22k

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

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

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

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

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #v fanfic #OC as the fairy godmother about to get a hernia #Kim Taehyung as an ex fuckboy who's trying to get his shit together #lol

[pixxyofice]

okay so its Early On Miitopia Things like: explaining the world of Miitopia being one where miis live in harmony, and then a dark lord attacked without warning... Qiana’s just wandering wherever the path’s taking her and then suddenly a pink rock moth GAINS EYES and attacks so she books it. then she finds greenhorne and enters

I didn’t activate spotpass, sooo... i might as well list out what got assigned where, and if any Extras occur, i’ll replace them with just a random person later. Okay. Will be listed below cut. Also i WILL detail the story beats, just for myself to remember.

the carefree guide basically calls Qiara’s tale Dumb and hilarious because haha, monsters with people’s faces?! greenhorne’s peaceful, shut the fuck up! Cheery Granny compliments the weather, and tells Qiara to smile because a smile brings happiness.

the Sassy Child is pretending to be a dragon while his Worried Mother tries to tell him not to trip people and is just exhausted.

The lovey dovey couple.... Exists. and is in love a lot. Qiara moves on. Saracstic guy is sarcastic about why she’s visiting and Qiara snarks back at him (she’s cool, my dude), before moving on.

Qiara speaks to the mayor, who says the town is nice... and then says he kind of has to say that as mayor. haha joke. and then Boom The Sky Changes And Uh-Oh! The Dark Lord Is Here!

I’ll... make another post about who i chose to be the dark lord. another NPC, made sorta like a hero is? aka mii made from scratch. Her name is Laxmi. She’s a floating dark spirit thing who proceeds to take faces off of some people, and not others. she has a necklace thing that defintiely isn’t important around her neck.

The people are despairing, and Qiara talks to the mom of the kid, who tells her to try and get the kid’s face back, and well, fuck, who can say no to a mom of a kid? not Qiara! the Worried Mother gives Qiara the family’s good luck charm which... ah, spoilers, will be the source of Qiara getting a class! yeehaw!

So Qiara heads out below the town... encounters the dark lord, who plops the Sassy Child’s face onto a slime so that Qiara would have to fight it, and then the Guardian Spirit activates as the slime tries to attack and voila, job time...!

Greenhorne

Carefree Guide: Dunbar. Short, hair top smooth but part... part, is spikey? brown eyes, eyebrows close to eyes, the gap tooth mouth, the block nose.

Cheery Granny: Irina. Blond hair, tied up in a ponytail. Part goes to right side (our left). Lipstick smile. Also block nose. Blue eyes.

Sassy Child: John. pretend he doesn’t have a beard. super close eyebrows yet again! black eyes. uh, dunno how to describe that nose... hair brushed back. Big grin! not teeth grin, just a grin with smile lines.

Worried Mother: Na-rae. Small nose, smile with a chin, faint hint of makeup beneath brown skin, far apart eyes where the upper, darker makeup lies... long dark brown hair... best i can describe it.

Lovey Dovey Couple: Rui and Araceli. both brown, rui has silver eyes and araceli has blue eyes. rui has green-ish hair? and araceli has brown hair. rui has age lines, araceli doesn’t. araceli has makeup. both smiling, rui has smile lines. rui’s eyebrows are at eyes, araceli’s are slightly above. if that makes sense. oh gosh.

Sarcastic Guy: Joost. Similar looking to Dunbar, except with a rounder nose, chin smile, and also blond with silver eyes and hm maybe not that similar. both are small, okay?

Dubious Mayor: Jesus. Except with the u accented. he looks like an old man!

#Pix's Miitopia Adventures

[laxus-and-ceruli]

Sunflowers and Camellias (Part One)

Warnings- Swearing and fluff

Camellias

Some of you may have never seen a camellia except in pictures if you live in colder climates. Camellias grow as shrubs in warmer regions and they are difficult to find as a cut flower because they tend to be fragile. These romantic flowers are stunning and look similar to roses, and like roses have different meanings depending on the color. Red camellias say “you’re a flame in my heart”, pink symbolizes longing, and white say “you’re adorable”. If you are fortunate enough to live in an area where camellias are in bloom, I recommend you take the time to pick some for your darling. They are also available as bonsai trees.

Sunflowers represent longevity, adoration, and pure love. These flowers remind me of cheerful faces, and when growing they follow the sun, moving throughout the day. They are easily obtained from florists, or you can easily grow your own from seed-which could be a romantic activity for you and your sweetheart. Additionally, the seeds of the flower attract wildlife.

~~~~~~

“Laxus!” He stiffened when I jumped on his back.

“What do you want?” He huffed, ignoring my grip on him.

“I’m hyper.”

“Yeah, no shit.” He chuckled.

“Let’s go on a job,” I buried my nose into his neck, “Just the two of us.”

“Oh yeah?” He thought for a moment, “Alright.”

“Really?!” I jumped off eyes sparkling.

“Sure, sounds fun.”

“Awesome! I’ll go pick one out!” I kissed his cheek and went over to the request board while he talked to Gramps.

I pulled a job off to look at the details.

“U-um…” I looked over to see the blue-haired dragon slayer.

“Hey, Wendy,” I ruffled her hair, “You looking to go on a job?”

“No, I was actually looking to talk to you.” She said, looking at the ground.

“Oh yeah? What’s up?”

“Well… I heard some of the others talking and…” She clenched her little fists, before looking at me with big eyes, “Is it true you and Laxus can do unison raids?!”

“Huh? Oh-” I smiled at her, “Yeah! We’ve done that a few times.”

“Really? That’s so cool!”

“You interested in Unison Raids?” 

“I just think they’re really awesome!” 

“Heh-”

“You pick one out yet?” Laxus asked from behind me.“No, sorry. I got distracted.” I scratched the back of my neck.

“You’re such a pain.” He turned to the board and started looking for a job. “This one looks good. Decent reward too.”

He grabbed the paper and started for the door.

“Sorry Wendy, we can finish talking when I get back.” I gave her an apologetic smile before running after Laxus.

“Gimme that,” I snatched the paper from him and looked it over, ‘Yeah, this works.”

We stopped by my place so I could pack a quick bag. 

“You know we’re gonna need to take a train, right?” I side-eyed him with a smirk.

He groaned.

“You’re the one who picked the job, not me.” I hefted my bag onto my shoulder, grabbed some cash from my room, and pulled him to the door. “Come on, I’ll get us our own compartment.”

~~~~ I closed the door to our compartment and saw Laxus already pale.

“Aw baby,” I cooed, sitting next to him, “We’re not even moving ye-”

Just as I said it the train lurched and began chugging forward. Laxus’ eyes widened and he started to sweat.

“How long is-... this going to b-be?” He moaned.

“Three-and-a-half hours.” I pulled his head onto my lap and ran my fingers through his hair. “Just try to get some sleep, okay?”

“Please tell me we’re almost there,” Laxus grumbled as he woke up.

“No,” I frowned and stroked his face. “Sorry, maybe we shouldn’t have done this…”

“Hey, you know this isn’t you- urh- fault,” He gagged, “And when we get there I’ll be fine.”

I nodded and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. 

“Laxus,” I shook him slightly, “Hey, we’re here!”

“Finally,” He groaned as he sat up.

We’d left the guildhall at an odd hour, and it was almost sunset already, so we decided to stay here tonight, and head out in the morning.

We found a decent inn not far from the palace.

“Welcome to the Flower Mirage Inn! Is this your first time in Crocus?” The old Lady at the desk said, not looking up from the check-in book in front of her.

“Not exactly,” I spoke up. 

She looked at us and smiled, “Oh what a lovely couple! Honeymooners?”

Laxus’ face lost all color before turning bright red, “N-no! We’re… We’re just dating! Not married! N-not that-that I haven’t thought about… B-but that’s not-... oh...”

“We’ll just take a single room for two nights,” I giggled at his rambling. I gave her the Jewel and went to sign the book. She handed me the key and I smiled, “Thank you.”

I turned to see Laxus trying to blend into the background, face still burning. I laughed as I grabbed his arm, “Come on.”

When we got to the room he flopped facedown on the bed.

“I’m an idiot,” He groaned into the pillows.

“You’re a cute idiot though.” He turned his head to glare at me, “What? You got all blushy and it was cute!”

I dropped my bag on the dresser and laid next to him.

“I didn’t know it was so easy to get you all flustered,” I teased. “I mean, she only asked if it was our honeymoon.”

“Oh I’m easy to fluster?” He challenged.

“I never said I wasn’t!” I laughed, “This isn’t about me!”

After we spent some time laughing, I looked over at him, “I’m hungry, let’s go get some food?”

“Sure. What were you thinking?”

“Pizza?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Grabbing some Jewel, we went to wander around until we found a good looking pizza place.

As we wandered, we came across a stall with pretty flower crowns, necklaces, and bracelets. The vendor saw me looking with one of my hands wrapped in Laxus’, and cheerily greeted us.

“What an adorable couple!” He clasped his hands under a chin. “And if I remember correctly, members of Fiore’s strongest guild, Fairy Tail.”

I smiled slightly uncomfortable.

“Please, take something!” He insisted, “I’m such a fan of young love, and to think one of Fiore’s premier couples would be wearing something from my cart!”

“Free huh?” Laxus looked over my shoulder at the man’s wares. “You’d look nice with that one.”

He pointed to a crown with sunflowers and white flowers.

“You think so?” The vendor carefully picked it up and set it on my head. “Thank you. Hmmm.”

I knew a little about flowers, my mom owned a flower shop back in Magnolia. Most of the flowers in this cart had romantic meanings. I saw a small bunch of white Camellias and took one, tucking it in Laxus’ hair and kissing his cheek. He rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were a bight shade of pink. 

I smiled and thanked the man before going back to our pizza search.

The sun was nearly set by the time we found a locally loved pizzeria. We were seated in a back courtyard dining area. There were fairy lights and a fountain that reflected them. It just seemed to sparkle out here.

As we waited for the pizza, you could feel static in the air, my fair started sticking up.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine, just a little out of my element.” He admitted. I nodded and it went quiet again. They brought out the food and we still didn’t talk.

“Have you really thought about marrying me?” I asked, nervously playing with my hands.

“I…” I’d caught him mid-bite and he swallowed, “I.. I mean… Sure I have.”

“You’ve been my best friend longer than Flamebrain’s been in the guild. Since we were both kids,” He continued, “I’ve been in love with you since we were teenagers and… Yeah, the thought’s crossed my mind a few times… I nearly had a heart attack when I saw you in that dress during the games.”

“I love you too.” I smiled at him, holding back tears.

“You’re crying!” He panicked, “D-did I say something wro-”

“No! No. It’s okay, I’m just happy, is all.”

He let out a relieved sigh, smiling back.

We finished our food and headed back to the inn.

We got cleaned up and went to bed, a tangled mess of limbs.

~~~~~

“Gah!” I landed harshly on the ground, skidding until I hit a tree. I slammed my fist in the dirt and pushed myself up. “Bastard!”

“You good?” Laxus landed next to me.

“I’ll live,” I grumbled, looking at the monster that threw me as it roared. “It’s stronger than I thought.”

“Yea, I didn’t expect an S-class monster from a regular job.” He helped pull me to my feet. “I think if you hit me with a Power surge and we try to Unison raid, we might be able to cut it down quickly.”

“Sounds good.” I nodded, backing up, “Two-Layer Magic Circle: Power Surge!”

A beam of light wrapped around the dragon slayer, boosting his magic power.

“Let’s do this!” Laxus shouted and he grabbed my hand, “Lightning Dragon Secret Art:”

“Eight Layer Magic Circle:”

“Earth Shatter!”/“Roaring Thunder!”

A blast of magic erupted in front of the monster, the ground around it cracking and exploding, as the thing was electrocuted.

I let out a sigh as it fell to the ground, dead.

“We should grab some of its teeth,” Laxus said, “They’re a rare material used to make magical weapons.”

I nodded, drawing whatever energy was left in its gums, making the teeth fall out. He grabbed a few and we started back to the mansion the client lived in. The man was extremely grateful and gave us the 325,000 Jewel.

We were walking back to Crocus, his arm around my shoulders.

“I can’t believe he added another 25,000 Jewel!” I squealed. “I’ll finally be able to redo that horrendous bathroom!”

“Of course you’re thinking of interior design right now,” he chuckled.

“Shut up!” I blushed.

“Nah, it’s cute!”

~~~~~~ 

#Laxus fluff #Laxus Dreyar #fairy tail laxus #Laxus x Ceruli #laxus imagine #cute #crocus the flower blooming capital #laxus x reader

[silverfootstepswrites]

Northern Lights [10]

title Give and Take summary The eyes just know.

“Boss. I’ve got news,” Tenten said as soon as the line connected. Silence answered her. She heard Sakura sigh before she finally replied.

“Okay.”

“Where are you?”

“Sai Ying Pun. Come alone,” Sakura ordered. She hung up. 

Tenten stared at her phone for a minute. Listening to the beeps as the call ended. Lee glanced at her before he resumed wrapping his knuckles. 

“Are you heading out?” he asked her. 

“Something’s not right,” she muttered, not hearing his question. That really got Lee’s attention. Lowering his hands into his lap, he straightened his back. 

“Is everything alright?” he demanded. 

“Of course it’s not. You know how she is,” sighed Tenten as she grabbed her jacket. Lee chuckled. 

“Yeah. Good luck with that,” he called after her as she strode out of the training hall.

“Luck isn’t what I need!” Tenten yelled without looking back at him.

Tenten parked her car a little while later. She walked into the lobby, her eyes flickering all around glossy, white room. A man wearing a baseball cap held the door for her as she passed. Tenten climbed the stairs up to the third floor, her hands in the pockets of her jacket. 

Sakura answered the door. A white robe wrapped around her. Her wet hair curling at the ends. 

The apartment in Sai Ying Pun was a newer purchase. It wasn’t technically one of Sakura’s actual properties. More like a safe house if she needed somewhere to rest for the night. 

“What is it?” Sakura asked as she let Tenten inside. The door clicking shut after her. 

Tenten glanced around.

“There’s no one else here. Relax,” Sakura then said. She gave Tenten a light push to the shoulder. When Tenten didn’t crack a smile, Sakura studied the tightness of her face.

“Sit,” she ordered. And Tenten settled in the plastic stool without protest. She sank into the chair with an odd sort of heaviness. Elbow up on the counter, Tenten watched Sakura run her fingers along one of the glass bottles on the counter. She poured them each a glass with a practiced hand before she slid one of the drinks to Tenten.

“Cognac?” Tenten asked, fingers curling around the cool glass.

“Do you care?” Sakura questioned in return.

“No,” snorted Tenten. They clinked the drinks together before they drank in silence.

Sakura refilled Tenten’s glass when it emptied. And Tenten did the same for her. Sakura rubbed her hand along her phoenix tattoo, her eyes finding the window above the sink. Hands falling heavy onto the counter once the glasses were empty again. 

“Did you eat yet?” Sakura queried.

“No.”

“Good.”

An hour later, they sat at a small, square table. The fake wood top was slightly sticky. The cook shouted orders in the kitchen. Servers yelled back as they ran around with metal trays heavy with noodles and still-steaming dumplings. The patrons of the restaurant chattered as they gobbled down their meals. 

“How were things in Tokyo?” Tenten asked. 

“Laau gaau,” Sakura replied. She ran her fingers through her hair. She fiddled with her necklace; the clasp had twisted all the way to the front. Sakura tugged the clasp back where it belonged. She reached for the box of cigarettes in her jacket pocket. Stopped when she realized that they were in public. She took a slurp of her lukewarm tea instead.

“Messy?” Tenten repeated as she pulled a pair of chopsticks from the container on the side. She handed them to Sakura before retrieving another for herself. 

Sakura’s eyes met hers. That was the advantage of knowing someone for so long. Tenten stopped asking questions. They ate their dim sum in silence. The only one who felt uncomfortable was probably the waitress.

It was only later that Sakura responded. Sitting on top of the old building. The smells of cooked meat and soy sauce drifting up from the ground level. A cigarette burning between her fingertips as she swung her legs back and forth. The white wisps drifting up toward the heaven, staining her nails with the smell of tobacco.

“The vultures are circling now that the Sarutobi-gumi’s trying to decide on a successor,” Sakura told her.

Tenten snorted, glancing down at her nails. “Should’ve decided earlier. The old man’s like a million.” The corners of Sakura’s mouth pulled up a little despite the grim topic. Fumes spilled from the corner of her lips.

She caught the way Tenten shot her a furtive look before she asked, “And the Kumicho?”

“He wants stability.”

“Typical. Sounds like him,” Tenten then remarked. And Sakura could feel her building up to something. She decided to let her try.

“You know, the funniest part about this is that the Inuzuka-kai agrees with him,” Sakura pointed out.

“That’ll be a first,” Tenten responded. She tossed her lighter up in the air and caught it with one hand. “Anyway, my news. There was a police bust last night. A bunch of street racers in Kennedy Town. Apparently they were betting with drugs instead of cash,” Tenten reported. 

“Arrested?” Sakura asked without bothering to hear the rest of the story.

“One-Ear Wu and some of his crew. Cops confiscated the coke too.”

Sakura sighed. “Little fuckers. Getting comfortable and doing useless shit.”

Tenten nodded. She stayed quiet as Sakura considered what to do. 

“Are they being held in Stanley?” Sakura inquired. 

“Yeah. They might get moved to Pak Sha Wan if they’re convicted,” Tenten informed her. 

“They will be. Pok gaai,” Sakura grumbled the curse almost as an afterthought. And as she stewed, Sakura was very conscious of the way Tenten was looking at her. Not like she was waiting for orders. But like she was trying to decide whether to do something or not.

Tenten’s eyes flickered to her again. And then down at the street. The way she asked her next question was deliberate. “The Kumicho sounds busy.” An awkward way to change topics. Sakura humored her.

“Busy putting out fires,” Sakura agreed.

“And that’s why I saw Namikaze coming out of your building earlier?” Tenten went on. 

Sakura paused. She took another drag of her cigarette. Clenching her teeth, she tilted her head toward Tenten. When she exhaled, the smoke seeped from her nostrils. “Did you?” Her voice growing soft. 

Sakura was good at reading faces. She was great at reading Tenten’s. She didn’t like what she saw there. Blow for blow, Tenten could match her in a fight. But there was a reason why she had always been a step ahead of Tenten, who wore her heart on her sleeve. 

“Tenten, I like you. But watch your mouth,” Sakura warned. She ground her cigarette out against the edge of Tenten’s jacket. Listening to the fabric sizzle, smelling the fibers singe in the heat. Tenten’s eyes didn’t leave hers. 

Sakura got to her feet. “And yes, you did see him.” She draped her jacket over her shoulders. “Nothing brings people together better than mutual hatred.”

“Hatred of what?” Tenten asked.

Sakura’s smile returned as she looked down at the other woman. “What did you see, Tenten?”

Tenten swallowed. Her jaw tight. “Nothing.” And as soon as the word left her mouth, she turned away. Like saying the word filled her with shame. 

Sakura left her there. She lit another cigarette as she headed down the stairs. Her heels tapping against the concrete as she followed the spiral down, down. Soles touching each step in an echoing rhythm. All the way down to the ground.

Rain began to fall heavy on the island a couple days later. Battering the trees, beating the tender leaves into submission. Tapping against glass panes in an effort to wash away the grime. And it felt like the rain was even beating down on the people, who hurried up and down the sidewalks with their shoulders hunched. Strings of their hoods drawn tight. Humidity fell on the city with suffocating force.

Sakura glanced at the glowing screen. It was another call from Itachi. She silenced it and flipped the phone over before she rolled onto her stomach. She would call him back later. Her arm dangled off the edge of the bed.

“Here.”

Sakura looked up. Minato stood in his robe, holding out a bottle of water to her.

“Thanks.”

She sat up and twisted the cap. Listening to the plastic snap as the seal broke. Minato sat next to her as she took a few gulps. Her eyes drifted to him as she replaced the cap. The pink lines on the left side of chest looked old and faded. But she recognized burn scars when she saw them. Minato followed her gaze and looked down.

“My father had a drinking problem,” he told her.

“Save the sob story. I’m not interested,” she interrupted. “You think anyone living like us had a happy family life?”

Minato was quiet for a moment. And then he chuckled. “You’re right, I suppose.” Hie gaze drifted to the window. At the cacophony of orange, green, and red glows from the neon signs above and below. The lights filled the window, reflected off the streets slick with rain.

“I know this is poor manners. But I have to ask.”

Sakura stared down at the water bottle. “What?”

“Word is that you have Boss Uchiha eating out of the palm of your hand. What’re you doing here with me?”

That made Sakura look up. A smirk curling her lips as she looked Minato in the face. 

“What a boring question to ask, Mr. Namikaze,” she replied. 

A smile appeared on his face. The corners of his eyes crinkling just a little as he laughed. “Then let me ask you a more interesting question.”

Sakura motioned for her him to proceed.

“What do you want this to be?” he inquired. She heard his hand slide over the bed and its silky sheets. Then she felt his fingers curl around her thigh. Her gaze flickered down to the touch, then back up to his face. 

“You overestimate my interest in you. You were the one that approached me, remember?” Sakura retorted. She slapped his hand away. 

She got to her feet to begin dressing. 

“That’s true. But let me just request one thing from you then, Dragon Head.”

Sakura glanced over her shoulder at him. 

“If you’re going to try to kill me, at least give me a 15 minute head-start.”

Sakura turned away so he wouldn’t see her smile. “....Maybe,” she replied.

They didn’t say anything else as she dressed. She stepped into her heels and buckled the straps across her ankles. Her gold earrings jangled together as she straightened. Minato sat in the same spot, his arms folded across his chest. 

“You know... you’re not quite what I expected,” he suddenly said to her. 

Sakura draped her coat over her shoulders with an irritable click of her tongue. “Fuck your expectations,” she snapped as she grabbed the door handle. Minato’s laughter rang in her ears as she stepped into the hallway. 

“Call me!” he called after her just before the door slammed shut. 

A loud buzz rang out through the room. She knew when Tobirama sat. His hands hitting the table. Handcuffs jangling. The guards that were supposed to stand behind him eyed Sakura through the shatterproof glass. When she nodded, they took several steps back, eyes flickering to the security camera, which was angled the wrong way. 

She took her time looking at him. Her gaze sliding over to his face. Around his cropped hair and his stubbly jaw. Freezing on his busted lip. He already had the receiver held up to his ear. Waiting. Eyes too bright with excitement as he watched her pick up her receiver on her end.

“Nice lipstick,” she greeted him.

Tobirama smiled. Really smiled. Running a hand through his hair as he even chuckled a little. “I thought you liked One-Ear Wu.”

“I did until he lost me...” Sakura trailed off. And then she raised five of her fingers twice. Tobirama’s eyebrow rose. 

“10 keys? Diu lei. No wonder you’re pissed,” he snorted.

Sakura leaned back in her seat. Her fingers tapping against the table as she thought. “How long did they put you in solitary for that?” she asked. 

“Just three days. I didn’t kill him. Probably broke his eye socket. Definitely broke his arm,” answered Tobirama. 

She had toyed with the idea of just having One-Ear Wu killed in prison. The guards could do it easily. Or even one of the other inmates could’ve been persuaded. 

But she didn’t know why Tobirama had come to mind. And she was still surprised that he had agreed so easily to it. All it had taken was for her to sneak him some cigarettes and other goods. She hadn’t even said ‘please’.

“Solitary must’ve been boring,” she remarked.

“I had plenty to think about.”

“Like killing me?” Sakura pretended to tease. But she was serious as she watched his face. 

“Sometimes,” he answered. His voice suddenly low. He lifted his chin to meet her eyes. “But then.... sometimes...” His words softened around the edges. “I think that it’d all just be so fucking boring without you around.”

“Diu lan,” she sighed. 

“Hou sei la lei,” he answered just as easily. And even the swears they threw at each other didn’t sting. They had lost that effect long ago.

“...Jing-Mei.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the worst.”

“Yeah. I know.”

#writing #triad!sakura #Triad!AU #northern lights #minasaku #tobisaku #itasaku

[dazzlingphoenix]

Dragons of Lockra: Shards of Dawn Light

Chapter 2: Alliances, Tensions, And a Touch of Madness

The queen kept her sharp gaze on her daughter, as if saying "I still haven't forgiven you for breakfast".

"Not now Veneasha," Ruby finally spoke, turning her head back to the other dragons. "I'm working with this squadron to investigate the Rain-Thorn border. Wait outside." The sorry face of Fergjin peeked around the queen then back at the table in between them. The princess sighed and stayed by the entrance, waiting for her turn to speak.

As her mother discussed her ideas, Veneasha decided to look at the other dragons. There was Ruby, of course, the oldest and largest dragon in the room. Fergjin was across from her, and he brandished a new necklace with letters etched into it. He sat straighter and much more tense, his face trying to stay serious as he spoke.

Ruby must've appointed him Squad Captain. Veneasha realized. Two Rain Fliers and two other Dawn Feathers accompanied Fergjin and Ruby. Their words started to go in one ear and out the other, boring the princess to no end. A tug at her tail made her turn around.

A young Rain Flier dragonet was playing with Veneasha's tail, picking it up and plopping it back down as well as running her talons over the feathers. The dragonet looked to be barely 5 years old.

"Hello there," The princess smiled, getting the attention of the small rain dragon.

"Hi!" She chirped, waving a webbed hand. "What's your name?"

"I'm Veneasha." The heir said politely.

"That name makes no sense." The young dragon said blatantly, making the princess's smile faulter. "It's not even a word!"

"Names don't have to be words," Veneasha explained. "Like my sister, Vara. What's your name?" The little dragon smiled, her thin sharp teeth shining like snow.

"My name is Angelfin! Like the fish!" She giggled, flapping her wings excitedly as she coughed slightly. Her enthusiasm was infectious, making the princess laugh as well.

"It's nice to meet you Angelfin." Veneasha held her hand out for her to shake. Angelfin tilted her hand then held her hand out as well. She didn't shake Veneasha's hand, but just held it out like the princess had. The princess chuckled and grabbed Angelfin's hand, shook it, then set it back down.

"What's a dragonet like you doing here in the Dawn Feather tribe?" Veneasha asked her.

"Oh," Angelfin said. "Auntie Fogbank brought me with her and uncle Oyster to the super secret important meeting they're having in there! Can you believe it? They're talking with Ruby! The QUEEN of the DAWN FEATHERS!! Oooh they're so lucky!"

That's what you think. The princess thought bitterly.

“Well, what would you rather be,” Veneasha asked. "An old queen that's stuck in her castle all day, or a totally cool and free princess?" That made the dragonet think, tapping a talon on her chin.

Her attention was averted to the other dragons as one raised his voice.

"Why not just attack them already?!" The Rain Flier asked, slamming his talons on the table. Judging by there being only two rain dragons, Veneasha guessed that that was Oyster.

"Angelfin," The princess said slowly. "Can you go pick me some flowers?"

"Oh yes! I can do that!" Angelfin happily trotted over to the grass, sometimes flapping her wings when she got too excited. Veneasha turned her attention back to the shouting dragon, who seemed to have gotten angrier.

 "They're clearly a threat!" Oyster argued. "Why haven't we just wiped them out entirely already?!"

All of the dragons gasped, including Veneasha. The queen towered over the dragon, glaring down at him.

How could a dragon just say that?! She asked herself in horror. Especially to a queen!

"Oyster," Ruby growled. "You know very well that is against the Honor Law."

"To Blackmoon with the Honor Law!" Oyster snarled, making everyone flinch. Except for Ruby.

"Oyster, breaking the Honor Law would revoke Queen Ruby of her throne!" The female Rain Flier, who Veneasha guessed was Fogbank, argued. "Plus, we don't know if King Briar even knows about these dragons taking our water! It's not worth going to war over!" Oyster didn't seem to be listening, getting angrier and angrier.

"What would you rather happen Fogbank," The male asked loudly. "No threat, or being wiped out by an entire tribe of venomous assassins?!"

"That's ENOUGH!" Ruby roared, making the entire room silence. "Guards, restrain this dragon and send him to the prison at once!"

"WHAT?!" Oyster screeched as Fergjin and the other dragons, including Fogbank, started to grab him. Veneasha stared at the fray, wanting to leap in there and help, but knew her mother would ground her for a millenia. One of the Dawn Feathers managed to pin Oyster with his stomach on the ground, putting all of his weight on the furious Rain Flier.

“I’LL KILL ALL OF YOU!” Oyster started to scream, thrashing underneath the guard like a fish under the talons of a dragon.

“I am so sorry your majesty,” Fogbank bowed to her. “He is never like this, I promise! He must've gotten ill. I’ll take him back to my queen if you wish.”

“I guess that’s easier than transporting him back to my prisons and trying to explain it to Aurora.” Ruby admitted in a sigh, losing her usually professional grammar. “I’ll have a Sapphire Squadron escort you to make sure he stays harmless.” Fogbank gave another bow to the queen as the guards placed wing clamps and a muzzle on the raging dragon.

“What are you still doing here Veneasha?” Ruby asked her, turning her attention back to her daughter. “I thought I told you to wait outside.”

“Well it’s hard to stay outside when there’s exciting things happening on the inside.” Veneasha argued, standing her ground. Her mother glowered down at her and turned back to the maddened restrained dragon.

“Mother,” Veneasha said, following her inside. “There’s a dragonet outside, the niece of Oyster and Fogbank.”

“So?” The queen huffed.

“I don’t think it’d be good if she saw her own uncle being dragged away by dawn dragons.” She explained, putting an emphasis on 'dawn dragons'.

"I think it's best if she gets sent home either before or after the transportation of Oyster." Veneasha saw her mother ponder, oblivious to the scene behind her that consisted of Fergjin and Fogbank trying to drag said mad dragon away from the barracks.

“Fine,” Ruby sighed after thinking. “You can take the dragonet home now. I’ll give you two a half hours headstart.”

“Me?” Veneasha asked, blinking in surprise.

“Yes,” Her mother said with a dismissive wave of a hand. “If you are so concerned about her then you can take her home to her tribe.” The princess glanced outside at the dragonet. Her pale blue scales gleamed in the now strong sunlight as she gathered handfuls of mountain flowers.

I have to get Fergjin to Gamehna though..! Veneasha thought to herself. She looked back at her mother to speak but found she was already talking with one of the Sapphire Squad members. She sighed and trotted back outside.

“Angelfin?” Veneasha called out to her. The young dragonet looked up from the grass and smiled, running over on three feet with one raised in the air, clutching flowers.

“I got the flowers Veneasha!” Angelfin smiled, flapping her wings again. The princess giggled and grabbed the small flowers.

“Angelfin,” The heir started, mixing a few of the flowers in with her feathers. “Do you want to hear something cool?”

“Always!” She said loudly, making the young dragon cough. After a few seconds later she looked back up and smiled.

“Well,” Veneasha knelt down a bit and started to whisper. “The queen just gave us a special mission!” Angelfin’s eyes widened, her jaw dropping open slightly. The princess giggled quietly and continued. “She wants you to show me your home so I can tell her all about it!”

“REALLY?” Angelfin asked loudly, coughing again afterwards. “That’s SO COOL!” She said while still coughing.

She sounds sick.. The little dragon kept coughing, slowly getting it under control after a few more seconds. The cough sounded bad, but if her parents let her leave the heir was sure it shouldn't be contagious.

"Just show me the way!" Veneasha said to Angelfin, spreading her green and purple wings. The rain dragon nodded and spread her wings as well. Instead of starting to fly, she jumped and hovered over to the princess, landing on her back.

"I can't fly that long," Angelfin explained before she could ask. "And so uncle Oyster usually carries me!" 

"Okay.." Veneasha mumbled, righting herself. "You're going to have to tell me where to go once we get there though, alright?"

"Alright!" The dragonet laughed, flapping her wings. The princess started to run, beginning her flight, then jumped into the air and flew. Angelfin started to laugh excitedly, making Veneasha smile.

They flew up and over the rocky hills that made up the Dawn Feather tribe outskirts. Soon only trees were below them, their broad leaves creating waves of emerald that rivaled the gem itself.

"You're WAY faster than uncle!" Angelfin shouted happily, a cough escaping her lungs. Veneasha laughed and sped up, soaring quicker as the dragonet clung to her underbelly tighter.

A few minutes later the sun started to reflect into the princess's eyes from the horizon. Neonripple Lake was almost within view. The vast freshwater body took ten minutes to fly across from the Dawn border. Veneasha, deciding to make some fun out of it, swooped down to the surface of the water. She tilted her body, one of her wings dipping into the water and spraying Angelfin, whom of which laughed.

The spray from the lake beaded into drops of water on the princess's scales, which actually felt good considering the heat beating down on her scales from the sky above. Veneasha dipped her head down and swallowed a gulp of water as she flew over the vast body of water.

"There's the palace!" Angelfin cried happily, pointing with her wings. Veneasha looked ahead, her eyes widening. A tall and winding castle gleamed before them, its cream color resembling the beautiful spheres it's named after. Dens made of hardened mud and leaves dotted the edge of the grand tribe, looking like ants in front of the castle.

They arrived at the Palace of Pearls.

Flying closer Veneasha could see the details etched into the towers. Gold and silver metal plates spiraled upwards, making the structure shine even more than it already was. Intricate blue and green mosaics of their first ruler King Brine and the other heroes wrapped around the curves of the castle. Veneasha even saw Queen Disyun, but with a green snout.

Weird.

"That way Veneasha!" Angelfin giggled, pointing to the entrance to the palace. The princess slowly glided down and to the entrance, shocking the guardsdragons as she trotted over. She let the dragonet slide off her back as she walked.

"Princess," One asked. "What brings you to the Rain Flier tribe?"

"Wait," Angelfin looked up at her. "You're a PRINCESS?"

"Guilty!" Veneasha laughed, smiling at her. Angelfin went slack jawed in awe for a few moments as the dawn dragon spoke. "I'm here to drop off Angelfin. Her aunt and uncle, Fogbank and Oyster, will be here in about half an hours time with the Sapphire Squadron."

"OH MY BLACKMOON," Angelfin suddenly shouted. "I GET TO SHOW A PRINCESS MY HOME!" She coughed hoarsely but the sparkle never left her orange and yellow eyes. The dragonet grabbed Veneasha by the talon and started to drag her inside the palace. "Come on!" She cheered.

"We'll tell you when the squadron arrives." The guard told Veneasha with an understanding smile. She mouthed the words "thank you" before following Angelfin into the palace.

She was used to sticking out, being a princess and all. But here, where most dragon wore scales of blue, green, and purple, Veneasha stood out like a sore talon. Rain dragons would gasp, stop, and bow to her. That she was used to. What she was not expecting was every single dragon bowing to her. In the Dawn tribe, everyone knew Veneasha and treated her almost like any other dragon. Here, she was treated like actual royalty.

Angelfin lead the princess through long carpeted corridors, the pale yellow-orange of the pearl walls weren't as blinding as Veneasha's box of jewelry, but it was definitely a close second right next to the sun itself. Dark wooden doors made heavy contrast against the near white.

"Over here!" Angelfin ran ahead of Veneasha and around a corner. The princess followed her, eventually arriving at a room labeled "Guardsdragon Cyclone" in smooth dragon scratch. The dragonet bounced inside, letting Veneasha slowly saunter inside.

The room was large, much larger than many flats dens in the Dawn tribe. Since she was in the palace, Veneasha had to guess Angelfin's family was upper class. That, and the fact that Fogbank and Oyster were covered in gold and pearls.

A large window gazed out to the lake, letting the sun's rays beam inside and light the room up with it's golden warmth. Splashing made Veneasha turn her attention to a small waterfall against a wall in which Angelfin was playing in. She giggled and looked around the room some more.

Scrolls and books in cubbies were neatly stacked on shelves against the walls, each labeled with a different subject. A large bed was tucked away in a corner, a nightstand with several books standing next to it. Turning around, there was a hallway that looked like it lead to two other rooms.

"What rooms are down there?" Veneasha asked Angelfin. The dragonet stopped her playing and looked over.

"Oh! Those are mine and Zarshaul's bedrooms!" She explained cheerfully. "But auntie and uncle moved in with us, and so auntie sleeps in my room and uncle sleeps in Zarshaul's room!"

"And I'm still trying to sleep!" An annoyed voice groaned from one of the rooms.

"Zarshaul," Angelfin giggled. "It's past midday! You should get your lazy tail out here!" More tired groans and mumbles made their way to the two dragons, muffled by the thick walls. A door swung open and a groggy rain dragon walked out. Once he saw Veneasha he froze.

"..Angelfin?" He asked.

"Yeah?" She responded, trying to suppress her giggles.

"Am I still dreaming or is one of the Dawn Feather tribe heirs to the throne in our living room?"

"You're not dreaming pal." Veneasha chuckled, giving a small head bow. "Princess Veneasha, here to drop off your… sister?"

"Yeah, she's my sister.." Zarshaul said quietly, still dumbfounded. "Wait, where's Fogbank and Oyster?" He asked quickly.

"Oh," The princess gave an awkward look. "Well.. They were talking with my mother- Queen Ruby- about.. some things that were happening with your tribe."

"You mean the water?" Angelfin asked innocently.

"Yeah, the water," Veneasha nodded. "Anyways. Your uncle got a little upset about something and started to yell, and so.. how do I put this?" The princess started to think.

"Oyster, getting upset about something?" Zarshaul interrupted with a huffed laugh. "That's hard to believe. The guy's a pacifist, he wouldn't even raise his voice at a Thorn Runner assassin."

"Yeah! He's really nice!" Angelfin nodded, agreeing with her brother. "He even lets me stay up past my bedtime to look at the lake sometimes!"

"Really?" Veneasha asked, slightly surprised. "Because when I saw him, he was… the exact opposite of nice."

"What's the opposite of nice to you, princess?" The rain dragon asked snarkily. "Not complimenting your tribe? Not saying 'Your Majesty' after every sentence?"

"No," The princess said in a lower voice. "I mean he was threatening to break the Honor Law and to kill my mother." Instead of a shocked reaction like she expected, Zarshaul just laughed. Angelfin seemed upset, but her brother clearly wasn't.

"What kind of snake tale are you weaving here?" He asked haughtily. "Oyster would never do that!"

The loud roars of dragons averted the three's attention outside. They quickly trotted over to the window to see what was going on. Veneasha winced when she saw the siblings' reactions. Although he was muzzled, she could clearly hear the threats he was shouting at those who carried him over.

 The Sapphire Squadron had arrived with Oyster.

#dragons #dragon #dragons of lockra #dawn feather dragons #dawn dragons #rain dragon #rain dragons #rain flier dragons #dragons of lockra: shards of dawn light #Veneasha #princess veneasha #Zarshaul #Angelfin #queen ruby #dol #fergjin #oyster #fogbank

[gremlinquisitor]

Varric & Hawke (or Varric/Hawke, if you like): 31. “How do we keep getting into these situations?” “Eleven years of friendship and I still don’t know.”

for @dadrunkwriting and @diemarysues. I had to fudge the number of years for the timeline, but I think we’re okay. c:

~950 words, Varric & Hawke, no ships, good for most ages, one dead dragon

Read it here on AO3

ko-fi

There’s no stopping him, because at this point he thinks he can’t be stopped. Varric’s heard the story of how they met Flemeth at least five times by now, which is the only logical explanation for why Hawke strolls forward, staff in hand, and tries to talk to the dragon.

“I delivered your necklace!” He waves his staff over his head, and Varric can hear the grin in his voice.

“Oh, Hawke, no. That’s not the same dragon!” Daisy calls out to him as if that will make any difference at all. That she can tell the difference between two dragons is a discussion for another time, preferably one with no dragons present for comparison.

Predictably, the dragon does not thank him for running someone else’s errand, and instead chooses to scream so loudly that all of them - Varric, Hawke, Daisy, Choir Boy and Broody - are knocked back on the ground.

And then comes the fire.

The fight is long and messy, and when it’s over the ground that’s not covered with dead dragons glitters with crushed glass from potions, crunching under their feet when they approach the body of the great beast. Everything smells like wet or blood or burning, with bushes still crackling along the path they took to get here. Varric can already feel where his shoulder is going to stiff in the morning.

Choir Boy - pristine armor splattered with red and one end of his heirloom bow blackened - sets a foot on one of the legs, bracing himself to start pulling out arrows. He doesn’t stop muttering the whole time he works his way back towards the tail, and Varric can’t tell if he’s praying for the dragon, or about the dragon. Not that it matters either way; it’s definitely dead. But if anyone could pray hard enough to get a high dragon sent to the Maker’s side, it would be him.

Broody is sitting off to one side, already wiping down his sword and glaring at the body like he expects it to come back to life, and Varric can’t blame him. A fight that long, it almost seems strange that it’s over, and there were a couple times when he thought that this would be what he spent the rest of his life doing.

“Hand me a flask, will you, Merrill?”

Varric steps carefully over the bulky tail, setting Bianca on his back only after he’s sure the damn thing won’t twitch. Hawke and Merrill are by the head, and even if he’s positive the dragon’s dead, he isn’t about to walk past its face if he doesn’t have to.

“How do we keep getting into these situations, anyway?” He calls out as he strolls along beside the beast’s spine, picking up coins that could have come from their pockets, or from some other unfortunate soul that visited the Bone Pit earlier.

“Eight-- years of friendship, and I still don’t know,” Hawke replies, not without a considerable amount of effort for a man with nothing left to kill for the moment.

Varric rounds the curve of the dragon’s shoulders and comes to a stop at the sight before him. “Maker’s breath, Hawke, what are you doing?”

Hawke is standing a still-steaming pool of blood, elbow-deep in the side of the dragon’s neck. Daisy is next to him, pushing corks into flasks of what can only be even more blood, then setting them gently in her pack.

“We can make runes with the blood--” Hawke grunts, and there’s a wet snap from inside the dragon. Its jaw twitches and all three of them hop like spooked cats, Choir Boy yelling something from the other side.

Hawke pulls his hands out, some fleshy bit caught between them, and if the blood was steaming, this is billowing, almost invisible through all the white that rises from it into the cool evening air.

“And this is the fire gland. That merchant at the Gallows will give me a pretty penny for it, I bet.”

Varric opens his mouth to ask how Hawke even knew that that would be there, but thinks better of it. The man loves dragons. Some things don’t need to be more complicated than that.

Hawke casts about for some way to preserve the thing until they get back to the city, smiling gratefully at Daisy when she holds up an oilcloth. After a moment’s consideration, he strips off his bloodsoaked gloves and sets them in the cloth as well, rolling the whole package up into a ball and stuffing it into his own pack.

“Anything else you got on your shopping list? Scales, horns, teeth?” Varric sighs. He regrets the question immediately as Hawke’s eyes light up and hustles over to the dragon’s head. A puff of smoke comes out when he tries to peel back the upper lip, and he pulls his hand away, shaking his bloody fingers before sticking them in his mouth. Choir Boy makes a face, and Varric hates to admit that he’s pretty sure he’s making the same one.

“Maybe we can come back tomorrow when it’s cooled?” It’s one of those Daisy suggestions that is somehow brilliant and a little mad at the same time. With people sure that they’ll die out here, it’s unlikely anyone will loot the body overnight, but Varric doesn’t relish the idea of day-old dead dragon, either.

Hawke is pouting, but he hums and nods, gesturing with his head towards the path back to the city. Broody is already there waiting for them, shuffling and impatient, though he looks at Hawke’s hand with concern when they approach.

The walk back to Kirkwall is an enthusiastic replay of the battle courtesy of Hawke, complete with arm-waving and roaring, under a starlit sky.

#dadrunkwriting #my fic #my writing #varric tethras #garrett hawke #i just started a playthough with a default m!hawke who is 100% purple #so of course he's going to sass the dragon #i just wanted to make sure i got at least one out today #diemarysues

[paragonrobits]

Could you do a karezi of them being in love in a tree house in earth c??? Pretty please

I also posted this on fanfiction.net and my AO3!

The wind blew, hard and strong and it was like a memory, of adistant time, and the smell was like somethingfrom Alternia, but not. Some other alien thing, hints of a world theyhelped make in another time, another place, when they were bothyounger and dumber and not exactly ready to hold hands and divehorn-first into hearts like wrigglers about to bite something thatwas gonna bite back a lot harder-

But Alternia. SGRUB. Everythingelse, every dumb mistake in other timelines only remembered stronglywhen Terezi is close, it could have been a thousand sweeps ago orjust two or three. It felt the same. Distant and lost and not reallyeither of their problem anymore. Old hurts, old faults and old woundsjust... faded away. Bad blood draining out a wound, and the scarshealed just fine, and the infection was long since gone.

Karkat smelled the air, his eyesclosed, doing it as she did.He did his best to pretend that he was totally getting this crap, hewas understanding the lessons of dragons like someone who wasn'tbuilt mostly of bullshit and yelling real loud, but he felt somethingon the wind, a taste of something that noses couldn't tell you andeyes wouldn't help with. A memory carried on that wind, from someother person, a flash of emotions he'd never felt and thoughts he'dnever imagined on himself. A scrabbling, dirt-low thought that movedin a mind as fast as a river and about as complicated, excited andtoo quick to worry much about consequences.

Terezi sniffed the air too, herlips quirking into an odd smile, threatening to go full grin. “Iknow what it is,” she said, sing-song, words rising up and downwith her rumbling, deep voice in a way that was absolutely terrifyingand enormously attractive. WithTerezi, the two things blended together. She was all claws and spikyquill-hair and teeth that could bite his arm in half at the elbow andshe wanted to keep him alive andshit that really meant a lot. On Alternia, in the meteor, on this newworld.

(Maybe they had achance in another time line to get close on the meteor. Maybe theyscrewed that up. Maybe they'd drifted apart in this timeline for awhile, but yeah, okay, this was an new world. A new chance, a newplaces; she'd promised him she'd seen all the possibilities of oldtimelines, and this was a new world. A new place. A new chance, andshe sealed it with a kiss between his horns, soft as falling leaveson water.

Then they both fucked it up because he poked her in the eyewith his horn and she thought he did it on purpose so she headbuttedhim and that ended up with them both falling into a pile of leavesand holy fuck she was heavy and for some reasonthey were both laughing. So that was okay.)

“Okay, fine, I give up, whatthe shit, don't drag out the suspense.” Karkat tilted his head up,and up, and up some more at the room filling glory thatwas Terezi Pyrope, sitting down with her legs crossed andsickle-shaped toeclaw cutting a weird spiral into the wood floor.Dammit. She was grinning. “You're gonna drag it out. Aren't you?”

“Hell yeah.” She grinned,lips mostly a deep black a few shades darker than the beautifulobsidian tone of her chitin, tinted teal at the seam lines artfullyinscribed into her chitin to state her lineage and story. Those lips,full and thick and entirely capable of making his whole face grosslymoist with a single overexcited smooch, were half painted teal.Karkat fumbled with the tools in his hands, impatient to finish thejob. “Guess what it is.”

“Come on, tell me!”

“Nah. It's cheating. Guess!”

Karkat grumbled but he complied,casting his power into the air, feeling it tightly. He felt the flowof the grass and the echoes of seeds from a thousand years ago. Hefelt how this forest had grown, planted ages ago, and he felt theedges of words spoken hundreds of years before that, shaping mindsthat would come to speak other words that led one day to peoplecoming here and placing down seeds, and then a seed became this tree,and here they came, putting up a tree house and staying there,together, free and safe like he'd never been, and she wasn't alonelike she'd always been.

He knew blood, and all the thingsit flowed through. Blood wasn't just life-juice in veins. Blood waswill, life, unity, andhe knew it well.

He felt the air, and heunderstood the memory upon the wind, something that never would havesurvived Alternia. He sniffed. “Consort?” he guessed. Coldthoughts, excitable but also inclined towards the depths, fond ofsand and water, looking for a beach to build a home, and with a hintof rain to its memory... “Turtle. One of Lalonde's, I think? Rose'sturtles. One of her consorts.”

Terezi nodded sagely. “Yep! Yagot it.” She grinned again, and wiggled her clawed fingersimpishly. “I'm this closeto being proud of you.” Her fingers were held apart a fraction ofan inch apart. “Thiiiis close.”

“Put those fingers closer so Ican bite them.” He gnashed his teeth in mock-threat.

“What, and risk you bustingyour cute little wanna-be fangs on me?” She scoffed, and stuck heralarmingly long tongue out at him. It smacked him in the face. “Noway! I like your teeth. Wanna keep them nice and intact so I can putthem on a necklace if anything happens to you.”

“You're the soul of romance,”Karkat said dryly, wiping off a bit of spittle.

Terezi wound her tongue back. “Iknow!” It was hard to tell if she was being sarcastic and reallygood at hiding it, or if she was being sincere. Probably the latter,she was smiling too much for it to be one of her attempts to hide herreal feelings.

“...I could bust out a few ofmy teeth so you could have a necklace?” Karkat said, feeling likehe ought to at least try tomake her sense of style look like she wanted.

“What?” She blinked.

“There's probably a hammeraround here. I could take a couple whacks-”

“What, no.”her hands clasped his cheeks, eclipsing his head. “I forbid you totake any implements of smackery to your teeny, adorable face muffin!”she paused. “The hell is a face muffin... WHATEVER, don't tellanyone I said that!”

“Can I tell them you're beingprotective?” he mumbled. “It's kind of... oh god, please don'tput me in a toilet or something, I have to say this-”

“Don't you dare!”

“It's kind of cute you beingall protective.”

“OKAY FIRST OF ALL HOW DAREYOU.” She scooted back, arms crossed and her head tilted up to hidethat she was blushing very heavily. “I! Am a totallybadass troll, I have more badassin this pinky claw than you do in your whole body.”

He snorted, not disputing it.“Well, duh.“ Heconsidered her neck, bearing a little charm on it with the symbol ofhis ancestor upon it, worn in secret throughout her childhood as herown ancestor had done. “Some of my teeth would look pretty good onthat necklace. Hold on, let me find that hammer-”

Her arm curled around him. “No!”

“Let me be badass, dammit!”

“No way!”

“They'll grow right back,probably?”

“No!” Terezi crossed herarms, tugging Karkat into her lap and scowling so fiercely that itwas surprising that some of the tree house didn't light aflame fromher glare.

“Ugh, fine.”Karkat curled up against her thigh, her arm and her stomach. It wasreally comfortable there and despite how damn strong she was, verysoft. He poked her stomach. “You feel like a recuperacoon.”

She giggled despite herself,trying to cover her mouth. “Knock it off, you little shit-goblin!”

“Poke, poke!”

“Swear to your ancestor I will crush you between my thighs,you know I can!”

He paused, leaning against her,contemplating this. Terezi relaxed around him, leaning back andrumbling pleasantly as his head soaked into her. “Is that, uh.”He nuzzled her stomach, horns lightly sliding against her skin. “Isthat honestly a deterrent.”

“Suppose that depends on howthreatened you are,” she said, with a faint smile she wouldn't evershow so easily except around friends. But here, now, her personaswere allowed to slip, and she got to show the ones she could withoutworrying about image. She patted at her mouth. “So is this stuffdone, or what?”

“Oh, your lip paint and shit.”Karkat was quite comfortable where he was, but if she needed him todo a thing, then oh well for that. “No. Gotta finish it up.” hetried to scramble free.

“Oh, come on!” She hunchedover, scowling as Karkat loped slowly on all fours to the paint kit,most of them in shades of blue and green, and glowing faintly.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, quiteunconcerned. “I haven't even finished with the base layer, you knowthere needs to be something forit all to be on before I apply the subtle bits.”

“And then the glowy stuff thatlooks cool?” she said, without really expecting it to be over soquickly.

“Sorry, that comes later. Theface paint too, if you want to sit still for that long.”

“Ugh.” Terezi sat back, quiteenjoying the feel of his hands on her face. “Fine, IGUESS.”

Karkat mixed them up asappropriate. Terezi leaned in, so he could take a soft brush, paintedteal, and slide it in slow, lovely strokes across her lips, makingthem a bright teal one stroke at a time.

Minutes passed in this way, softand calm and gentle. Neither of them had a lot of time for thepassionate, soul-searing kind of love. Passion had its charms, yeah,but, right here and now-

It was good to just have thingsbe soft, be sweet and quiet. To trust, and to be in love withoutworrying at all.

Terezi smacked her lips. Karkatgrunted in annoyance but left her to it. “One of these days,” hesaid, patiently keeping at it, admiring the artistic effect of herlips against the chitin. “You could learn to do this yourself.”

“What, and not have my personalmutant attendant do it for me? That sounds boring.”

He mumbled, almost missing astroke when his hands shook, and he couldn't stop himself fromsmiling.

More time passed, the two of themtogether like this and Terezi gently moved a hand up, trailing hisside and studying the shape of his shoulder, moving up. He hummedgently as her claws lovingly moving up the side of his face, thentowards his horns, cradling the back of his head and just sliding inand out, into his hair and out, and he resisted the urge to purr. Shedidn't, her blind eyes closed and her mouth smiling softer than shedared to show in public, and her contented rumbles made a few windowsshake and leaves fall out.

“So, uh.” She was stillsmiling, her eyes closed. “If I kissed you know, would it totallyjust screw up everything you did?”

“What, shit really?”He thought about it, the first impulse being something along thelines of 'hell yeah Pyrope go for it'.“Well, shit, if you wanna, I'm not gonna stop you.” Her mouth wasvery inviting, the curved blades of her teeth beauteously fierce.

Terezi made a pfftnoise. “It's not fun if youdon't whine a little first!” She leaned closer  to him, loomingover him like a dragon over its most treasured hoard. “But. I thinkI can deal with it.”

Her lips brushed against him,cool and soft, gentle as tree roots finding purchase in the mostverdant of soil. He leaned into the kiss, his heat warming her kissand it remained smooth ad calm, as steady as something they both hadso desperately needed, and now it was here, and it was safeand yes, this was love, not thekind of thing either of them had thought they needed with so manymovies telling them that love was hot and wild and ended in blood.

There is a kind of beauty inpeace, and in not being afraid anymore.

Terezi parted, it felt like yearslater than neither of them noticed. Karkat didn't bother to clean upthe teal, because he could still feel her breath on him and the smellof her on his face, and hell no tojust wiping that off. Instead he blushed, head tilted up and throatbared, and in such a position he was well equipped to kiss on thecheek.

She didn't giggle, or laugh, orrumble, but she did sigh contently, putting an arm up to loosely hughim.

All was right and well, for both.

#homestuck #karezi #terezi pyrope #karkat vantas #karkat #terezi #my writing #long post #fics #Anonymous

[paperficwriter]

All That Glitters (BNHA, Fantasy AU, Kiribaku)

I’m sure you’ve noticed that shapeshifting is kind of in my wheelhouse, right? How could I resist?

Dragonboy!Kirishima was very much inspired by @xkumah‘s beautiful, adorable pic of Bakugou getting sweet hugs from scaly boi. Dragon form Kiri was heavily inspired by...well, this guy.

Enjoy! Cut is for length, not for content.

---

“Get back here, you piece of shit!”

Bakugou’s feet barely touched the ground as he sprinted through the woods after the red creature. Bits of grass and dirt stuck to his skin, only making him angrier. Angry at himself for stopping to wash off in the stream, angry at the elk that had bled so much that he had had to stop to wash off in the stream, but especially angry now at whatever the hell had decided to take off with his bone and stone necklace his mother had just given him.

Not that he cared that much about the thing, but she would murder him if he came home without it.

“It’s stupid and gaudy,” he remarked when she put it around his neck. There were several layers to it, with red rocks from the mountains, shiny ocean glass, and what seemed to be bear claws. Okay, that was something he liked. “And heavy.”

She smacked him upside the head. “Don’t be a jerk. You’re old enough to know that you need to start carrying it. What are you going to give your mate when you find them, huh? That raggedy wolf pelt?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

“Or maybe one of those boots that smell like horse shit?”

“I get it, woman! Gods, your endless screeching is annoying.”

That had led to a night spent with the hounds. Wouldn’t be the first or the last, though. But if he had gone through all that trouble to now have it stolen by a mangy animal of some sort…

“I’ll fucking kill you!” He had just managed to get his pants back on, but his feet were bare, catching little cuts from the brush and bramble as he tore through it. He hadn’t even managed to get a good look at whatever it was, but he knew a few things: it was quick, had a long tail, and moved on four legs that left taloned marks in the ground beneath its feet. And its skin - not fur, that he knew from how the sun shone down on it as it slipped through the thicket - was a rich crimson. Maybe he could make a leather from it…

When the woods opened to a clearing, Bakugou figured this could be his best opportunity, because there was only a short distance before a cliff that dropped a quarter of a mile. He grinned savagely. “Okay,” he said, pulling his knife from his belt, pausing only when the animal turned, and he realized what he was dealing with.

It was the smallest dragon he had ever seen, with short legs and a stocky, muscular body. It blinked at him with wide eyes that shone like garnets, and it flicked at the treasure hanging from its mouth with a small pink tongue. “Drop it,” he ordered, because now that he has seen what it was, he knew he couldn’t just kill it like any other beast. It was a commonly accepted tradition that hurting a dragon - let alone killing it - could bring great misfortune, since they were considered wise and ancient creatures of the earth.  

But then the so-called “sacred” being tossed its head back and swallowed Bakugou’s necklace like a damn bird with a worm, and Bakugou lost any sense of cautionary tales.

“That’s it!” Taking off at a sprint, he dove at the dragon, tackling it. He tried to bring his knife down at his flank, and the shock ran all the way up his arm. It was like stabbing a boulder, a hissing, kicking boulder. Bakugou jumped back to his feet, but as he did, he failed to take into account the massive tail until it had struck him in the middle, knocking the air out of him and blowing him back several feet.

But instead of hitting the ground, he bounced. Right over the edge of the cliff.

The wind whipped around him as he fell, head over heels, his limbs flailing, no telling which way was up or down. He reached out for the rocky face as it blurred at his side, but it only succeeded in cutting his arm. Too fast. Way too fast.

Bakugou squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.

Yet, it was.

And then, something else entirely was happening. A whistle by his ear, and then he hit a surface other than the ground, and for a second it seemed like the inside of his body was still being pulled by gravity. He chanced opening his eyes slightly, and all he could see was red. And then he heard and felt the thrumming of wings, of muscles moving beneath him, and the reality made itself known: he wasn’t dead. He was flying. On a dragon. On the dragon.

It was only a few more seconds until they landed, and when he put his feet on the ground, his knees buckled. They had arrived at the base of the cliff, and when he looked up at it, the edge where he had started seemed too far away to see clearly.

That had been too close.

“Fuck,” he gasped, gulping down a few more breaths. When he glanced up, the dragon crouched on the grass in front of him, staring at him cautiously, as if it was expecting him to attack again. Perhaps he had been too shocked to let go, but Bakugou realized he still had the knife in his hand.

Slowly, he set it on the ground between them.

And damn if the dragon didn’t take that too.

“The hell?!” Bakugou snapped, but instead of running away again, the creature trotted past him and wriggled into a bush by a rock. Bakugou followed him, finding a small hole that dropped into a cave beneath, cool and silent but for the trickle of water that had made its way from a spring deeper in the plateau and collected in a pool.

The hoard - if it could be called that - was in a bed-sized pile in the center. But instead of gold and jewels, there were fairly common items: many river stones, a broken saucer, a few coins that were more pocket change than treasure, a pot lid, a mirror, a polished chain. Perhaps the most unique item was a sword, which the dragon nosed at to make room for Bakugou’s knife, and then…

“Fucking gross!” Bakugou protested as the dragon arched its back and threw up the necklace like a cat expelling a hairball. It was covered in a film of saliva, but it seemed satisfied as it placed it around a garden statue. The massive beast moved a few more of the items with its tail before it sat on top of the collection of flotsam and puffed its chest out. “I don’t know what the hell you’re so damn happy about. This is the shittiest hoard I’ve ever seen.” The dragon made a noise. “Did you just growl at me?”

It got up and walked back toward him, and Bakugou bent his knees, ready if it tried to snap at him, but it didn’t. However, it did stand up on two of its leg, the shape of it morphing and changing, and then...it wasn’t a dragon anymore. Not exactly, anyway.

“I said it’s not shitty!” The young man who now pouted in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, still wouldn’t exactly be what Bakugou would call “human.” His tanned skin was still scattered with red scales in places, especially down his arms, and the frill around his head had become vibrant hair, pointed ears and two sizable horns. And with his still-present tail and wings, Bakugou couldn’t help wondering what the point of this form would be, because there was no way he could pass for being a normal person. “I’m still working on it.”

“Do you even have any gold?”

“Yes!” He turned back to the pile and moved things around, producing several shiny rocks flecked with yellow. “Look!”

Bakugou smirked. “That’s pyrite, you idiot.” He was surprised how immediately he regretted saying it, because his face fell, and Bakugou wondered if today would mark another first: seeing a dragon cry. He pointed at the sword. “That’s pretty cool, though, I guess. And there could be gold in the pommel. If you cleaned it up.”

“Really?!” Immediately, the sad expression switched to one of absolute glee. “I thought so too! But I don’t want to damage it. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Did you steal all of this?”

“Steal?” A small laugh and a tilt of his head. “I found them, if that’s what you mean.”

“Uh. You stole my necklace. And my knife.”

“You gave me your knife,” he pointed out. “And I found the necklace.” Bakugou glared at the very pointed way that he didn’t say it was his necklace.

“And the fact that I was running after you when you took it wasn’t any indication that I still wanted it?”

“I thought we were playing!” The man grinned, showing off sharp, pointed teeth.

“I tried to stab you!”

“I knew you couldn’t get through my hide.” His smile faded. “I didn’t mean to knock you over the cliff though. I’m sorry. I got a little too excited, and you got hurt.”

Bakugou noticed for the first time that blood was still dripping from the cut on his forearm. When he looked up again, he startled a bit, because the dragon boy had stepped up close to him, peering at it. His eyes had stayed the same...or it felt like it, at least. Before he could stop him, he grabbed Bakugou’s hand and licked the wound.

“The fuck are you doing?!” Bakugou shoved his face, but he held on, swiping it again with his slightly pointed tongue. “Get off!”

Finally, he did, and when Bakugou went to wipe his arm against his pants, he was surprised to find that the wound had closed entirely. Once the blood was rubbed away, it was like the skin had never been broken. The man grinned at him again. “The elders always say not to eat humans because they taste bad. But you taste pretty good!”

Bakugou’s face went red, and he shouldered past the strange creature and reached down to retrieve his necklace. “You might have thought you found this, but it’s mine, so I’m taking it back.”

“All of it?” There was that pitiful expression again, and he gestured with a black, pointed nail at one of the sticky threads.

“Yes, all of it!” He sighed at how disappointed he looked, and finally he removed the piece with the knotted sea glass, placing it back in the pile. It wasn’t like a dragon understood the implications, and his mother probably wouldn’t ask about it. He hoped. He considered taking the knife too, but that was more easily replaced, and he did kind of owe it to him for not letting him become a smear on the forest floor. “Fine. Here. Happy?”

He was. “Thanks!”

“Quit smiling like that.”

“Like what?” It only brightened, and then he was once more in Bakugou’s personal space, wrapping his arms around him, his tail snaking around his ankles. An odor like sulphur and burning leaves tickled Bakugou’s nose, and he stood awkwardly, not sure what to do. Was he…hugging him? “I’ve seen humans do this when they like one another. Am I doing it right?”

“It’s...okay.” Bakugou paused. “It’s not usually this long, though.”

“Oh.” He let go. “I’m Kirishima. What’s your name?”

Could he tell a magical creature his name? Wasn’t there some rule when it came to that, about them being able to bind someone if they knew their true name? Maybe just his family name would be sufficient. “Bakugou.”

“You’re going to come back, right, Bakugou?”

“How the hell could I do that? Don’t know if you noticed, but I nearly died getting here. I can’t exactly climb down easily.” Come to think of it, he didn’t know how exactly he was going to get back to the village now either...

Kirishima’s face scrunched up as he thought, then he clapped his hands together. “We can meet at that stream! Would that work?” Realization dawned on his face. “Do you want me to fly you back there?”

Fly him…? “No. I can make my own way.” He climbed back out of the hole by the bush, staring up into the sky, which glowed pink and orange as the sun slowly descended toward the horizon. Kirishima followed close behind him.

“Are you sure? It’s a half day’s hike up the side of the cliff, and then you have to climb up, and it’s really sheer…it would be quicker and easier! I don’t mind!”

Bakugou frowned at his sincerity, still wary. But to be frank, the thought of trying to make his way back up the incline did not seem appealing, especially since it was late in the afternoon now. “Whatever. Do what you want.”

Bakugou was going to have to learn quicker that he needed to be more direct with Kirishima, because no sooner had he said it than he found himself lifted into his arms and they were airborne. And Bakugou would never say that he yelped, but he certainly was surprised, and he wrapped his arms around Kirishima’s neck as he watched the ground disappear. “It’s okay!” Kirishima called over the wind. “I won’t let you fall! I promise!”

Every bone in his body screamed that he shouldn’t believe him. But he did.

And maybe that was why when he was finally on solid ground again he was willing to agree to see him again. “Tomorrow, then!”

Even if he was annoyingly eager. “Tomorrow.”

#my paperfics #boku no hero academia #kiribaku #bakushima #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #fantasy au #dragon!kirishima