joonia’s palace

He had yet to take his eyes off you, but for every second they stayed on your visage, he was rewarded more and more. The clouds in the distant sky had moved on with the breeze, and the sun peered out just in time to form a halo behind your head.

Taehyung squinted from the intensity of the light. 

You kneeled down, placing his bag on his lap. “I don’t know who you are, but I can assure you. You’re beautiful.” 

There it was again. 

The word that opened his chest up and planted funny feelings inside it, feelings that made him feel like he was about to throw up. 

Or do something foolish. 

Or fly.

Taehyung said something really meaningful in response, letting out a cool “Ugh.” 

You threw your head back and laughed heartedly before getting up and brushing off your skirt. 

“I have every reason to believe!” You waved goodbye, and the afternoon sun embraced your figure once more until you were nothing more than a dot, blending in with the rest of the rushing student body on campus.

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

Kim Taehyung hated human beings.

Which, as a human being, was no difficult or great feat. There were plenty of reasons to hate people, justified and unjustified.

For example, Taehyung had woken up several hours early thanks to the pettiness of his housemates.

His hyung, Namjoon, was tired of everyone telling him how messy he was and spent the entire witching hour vacuuming the living room, as obvious as it was that it went against the decency of their housemate contract.

Taehyung glanced at the clock and realized his mistake. With a sleepy grumble, he went back to sleep, as one tends to do.

In the morning, however, thanks to his other housemate and roommate, Jimin, shutting off his alarm, Taehyung slept through one of the most important interviews of his career as a young artist. 

He awoke to 7 missed calls from his professor and 4 missed calls from the interviewer themself. He shot up in bed, already calling his professor, but there was no hope. It was too late.

His once in a lifetime opportunity of being the youngest student from Rolis University to hang his own art in a gallery as reputable as the Xiaks Institute of Craft was gone. 

It drifted out the window and was sucked up by a black hole like the vacuum that had woken him early that morning.

Now, don’t be mistaken. His hatred for human beings began long before the catastrophic events of this morning. But because he was having such a bad day, he decided he would hate all people just a little bit more than usual. 

Wallowing in his misery, with plenty of anger to spare, he crawled onto campus and seated himself in the empty art studio, hoping to make himself feel better.

What had actually transpired was, in a series of actions fueled by unholy rage, he had taken all of his works, including his prized piece, and destroyed them all on the lawn. 

Once the anger had finally dissipated, the gravity of his actions weighed on him until he collapsed at the bottom of a tree, sobbing. He screamed hordes of insults, complaining until his voice was hoarse about how much he could not stand the human race. 

Until you had appeared, that is.

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

“I love those eyes

the eyes that sought laughter

and kindness

and love

and me

through the hard times

through the good times

I knew as long as I had him,

I would be okay.

We would be okay.”

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

Taehyung went home that night, brushed off the apologies from his housemate and roommate, and beelined to the basement. 

They followed him, intrigued by his possessed behavior and watched as he wordlessly pulled out his paints and another canvas. 

Throughout the rest of his classes that day, the only thing Taehyung had been able to see was your face. There were doodles of you all over his notes. He could not stop picturing that moment in time where the sun was hiding in the strands of your hair. 

He immediately set to work recreating the image with pencil, erasing every curve and fold that did not feel correct to him. The entire time, he could hear your melodic voice repeating “You’re a human being, and you’re beautiful.”

It only took the next six hours to recreate the beauty that was his muse from the lawn, to put his raw emotions on the canvas. He had only stopped for a break a few times, but the resulting product was worth it.

He’d painted an exact replica of the scene he witnessed that morning: you, in your white attire, with a smile bright enough to rival the rays of sunlight peeking out from behind your head, the clouds in the blue sky overhead passing by without a care. It was exactly how he’d remembered. 

Taehyung lifted the canvas off of its stand, gently put it to the side to dry, went upstairs, and promptly collapsed on his bed.

He skipped classes the next day, turning instead to his computer to email his professor and the interviewer a formal apology for wasting their time. He ended the email assuredly, a tiny smile gracing his lips, before opening his sketchbook and continuing to draw his savior.

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

Two weeks passed since the incident and Taehyung’s life returned to its relative state of normalcy. 

He sat in classes, attentive but bored. He went home and bickered with his housemates. And eventually, that glowing, radiant image of you from the lawn dimmed until it rested peacefully in the back of his mind.

As the second youngest person in the household, Taehyung was used to being dragged around by his older friends. He only pretended to dislike it--as clumsy, loud, petty, and demanding as they were, they were also one of the few human beings Taehyung genuinely cared about. 

So when Namjoon dragged his half-dressed (but impeccably stylish) self to a Open Mic Night at a cafe in the middle of nowhere (off the corner of Ninth Street and Fresco Avenue in their secluded university town), he was completely prepared to fall asleep on a comfy couch with a cup of hot chocolate.

Namjoon was the event host for tonight, as well as the last poet reading for the evening. What Taehyung discovered as he listened to each poem was, the closer to the end a person went, the more phenomenal their writing was.

His hyung went up to the podium after the snaps for the previous reader, making a couple comments alluding to their work. Then, he began to speak about the next person.

“Now, it brings me great pleasure to introduce this next poet. She has been writing from a young age, and always manages to find words to describe what she calls the ‘innate beauty of the world’. From the intricate to the simplistic, the overt and the subtle, she names it all in her heart and wears it on her sleeve for all of us to enjoy. Please, give it up for (Y/N) (L/N).”

Imagine Taehyung’s surprise when he hears that same melodic voice, nervously but lovingly speaking into the microphone. His eyes shot up from his phone and, lo and behold, there stood his muse on stage.

“Good evening, everyone!” you beamed so bright despite the dimness of the cafe. “I am truly honored to be here, to have heard so many amazing pieces tonight. Words are a gift meant to be shared, are they not?” The audience laughed kindly in response. 

“The poem I wish to share tonight was inspired by someone who I found positively alluring. I hope my words can touch you in the same way my encounter with them touched me.” You smiled, opened your journal and began to read.

Taehyung sat entranced, captured by your appearance, your words, your voice. It was as though you were a siren, calling out to him hesitantly, but one note of your song and he was braving the storm to get to you.

Your poem, he realized (once he wrapped his head around it), depicted the two of you meeting that afternoon. You sang praises to his visage, comparing his tears to dewdrops on flower petals.

You had been taken by him, just as much as he was taken by you.

At the last word of the poem, silence blanketed the cafe. Soon afterward, however, the audience erupted into snaps and hollers, Namjoon cheering the loudest. You gave yourself a tiny curtsy before introducing Namjoon as the last reader of the night, and walked off the stage.

Taehyung wanted to jump up and go to you, but getting to listen to his hyung was the main part of the night he was looking forward to. Although a bit restless, he sat up in his chair and made sure to support Namjoon to the best of his ability throughout his reading.

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

At the end of the event, it was Namjoon who had received the most snaps by far. And he was well-deserving of it in Taehyung’s eyes, for he could write like no other.

But despite his best efforts to find his angel, (Y/N), you seemed to have disappeared after the event. He went up to his hyung, who was finishing discussions with some of the other readers, and interrogated him.

“Ah, (Y/N)? She’s my junior in the Department of English, in the same year as you, Taehyung ah. She always disappears after the end of the night--it takes a lot for her to build the courage to attend and she doesn’t like to stick around for the questions.”

“Why?” Taehyung blurted. “She’s exceptional...she’s the only person that comes close to your level, hyung.”

Namjoon laughed. “That’s what I keep telling her! But no one can or should force her to stick around...it means the world to me that she came tonight anyway.”

Taehyung stuck around to help with cleanup at the end of the night. By the time the two traveled back, they only arrived at their home in the early hours of the morning. 

Once again, Taehyung made a beeline for the basement and began working on two separate pieces. 

The first one was the partner piece to the recreation of his muse: a self-portrait of sorts. While he had painted your (s/c) arm outstretched to him, he began painting himself, seemingly climbing out of the darkness that was his mind that day, arm desperately reaching to touch you.

He painted black clouds creeping out from behind the tree his back rested on, accompanied by dark chords shooting out of the gloom to wrap themselves around his arms, torso, and legs. The light that stretched from your fingertips, your words, your presence was erasing them the closer you got, portrayed by the frailty of the faded, broken lines on his wrist, getting darker and stronger as they passed down his forearms.

The second one was a recreation of the scene he’d witnessed that evening. And with the thought of the fairy lights from the cafe, the gentle smell of warm baked goods, and her melodic voice swimming in and out of his ears, Taehyung set to work once more.

When Jimin made his way to the basement to look for Taehyung the next morning, he nearly stepped on his best friend, who was sprawled across the floor as his two new creations lay drying, propped up against the wall.

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

“He always held me close,

whenever I felt like life was going

to devour me,

he stood there and fought it away

he was the night,

and I was the sad, broken

damsel in distress

but he saved me

when I saw him, the world

had light again,

had color again,

I could feel again.”

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

The first thing Taehyung completed upon waking was wrenching his angel’s number from Namjoon. 

The elder was reluctant to hand it out so easily and wanted to consult you about it first, but Taehyung ensured that the surprise would please you in the end. Thus with a heavy glare and stern lecture from Namjoon not to hurt his favorite underclassman, the sophomore was off.

Fiddling with his phone, he nervously debilitated over how he should introduce himself. 

Should he mention where and how the two of you met the first time? 

...so that you would remember him covered in tears and snot? 

Better think again.

He recalled how he felt sitting in the audience that night and listening to your poetry. The way your words washed over him with a calm, loving sense of peace. 

With a decided smile, Taehyung sent his first message to his muse, his (Y/N).

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

It had been a relatively exhausting day for you so far, which wasn’t saying much considering you had just woken up and prepared for classes. You were on your way out of the dorms when you received a notification from an unknown number.

You opened the message and your brows furrowed, trying to make sense of what was sent to you. A moment later, it became all too clear and you flushed.

“My tears have never been likened to dewdrops on flower petals before, yet there’s something so fitting about them coming from you. Thank you for the lovely poem, angel.”

Taehyung had been so proud of himself for that message, for keeping his composure and coming off as suave and put together as possible. After the monstrosity he’d deemed your first meeting, he wanted to make sure you would only see him in the best light possible. 

Fabulously enough, it worked. You sent him a message back not even five minutes later, overjoyed that you had not only found the beautiful man you’d met weeks before, but that he had somehow heard the poem you wrote for him.

You asked him how he’d gotten your number and he responded, explaining how he knew Namjoon. You smiled at the mention of the upperclassman, a kind soul who always encouraged and supported you through your creative process.

Then you asked how he’d been doing since that day, and Taehyung filled you in on why he’d acted the way he had, and the opportunity he’d missed.

You sympathized with his cause, admitting that in such a helpless situation you wouldn’t know what you would have done either.

And then he joked that, rather than destroying all your best poems, you probably would’ve drawn inspiration from your feelings and written another one just as influential as the ones that came before.

The conversations between the two of you seemed to flow like the clouds. It was light and easy, drifting at its own constant pace, and the two of you understood one another in a way you’d never expected. 

Perhaps it was because you were both artists who paid special attention and gave more effort towards your craft, or perhaps it was because you were so well matched.

Taehyung never told you, but he liked to think that it was destiny. He’d never been a firm believer of “most things happen for a reason” but, then again, you caused him to believe a lot of things he’d never considered before.

After a solid month of texting, Taehyung worked up the courage to ask you if you would want to meet up with him. He offered to take you out on a date at the same cafe where he’d seen your spoken word. To his glee, you readily agreed.

Thus began one of the least acknowledged, yet most influential relationships Rolis University would ever come to know.

Your love was pure, in every sense of the word. Unblemished by greed, or by other people praying on your downfall. You and Taehyung simply encouraged one another to do your best. 

Taehyung showed his love for you without restraint, and this consistently made you feel bad, as your more introverted personality would restrict you from doing the same. 

He always waved you away, however, claiming that it didn’t matter how quietly you spoke it, or if you would just kiss him quick before running off to class. 

He always knew just how much you truly cared for him.

And he always showed just how much he cared for you.

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

That night in particular had been one of the rougher ones in your relationship, Taehyung remembers. 

The two of you had only been dating for about six months at that point. It was a beautiful night out, the type of night where it wasn’t so cold that the wind stole the sensation from their fingertips or kissed the tips of their ears red, nor was it so hot that it was muggy enough to cause people to shift uncomfortably in the heat.

The perfect kind of night, you liked to say.

He’d strolled into the cafe with gusto, fully prepared to enjoy another night of poetry. It wasn’t his favorite artistic expression in the whole world, and he really only showed up to listen to Namjoon, you, and, on the rare occasion, Yoongi, but Taehyung found ways to entertain himself.

He liked to play a little game with the lineup for any particular night. He would glance at the names and the title of their poems on the little provided program and, based on that one glance alone, bet on who he thought would have the third most successful poem of the evening.

(After all, you and Namjoon were consistent fan favorites. And he didn’t expect any less, as he had full confidence that the both of you were just that good.)

That night, he remembers glancing at the program and raising an eyebrow at the name listed above yours and Namjoon’s in skepticism.

“Hummingbird Beauty” - by Mateo Trian

“we are all made of stars” - by (Y/N) (L/N)

“badbye” - by Kim Namjoon

The title had peaked his interest the slightest bit, but as the night went on, he soon came to regret it.

“‘Hummingbird Beauty’?” He read aloud to Namjoon and looked up at the elder, only to find that his expression had soured. “Who the heck is Mateo Trian?”

Namjoon groaned. “I forgot they marked him down for tonight.” He sighed, sliding both hands down his face.

Taehyung snorted, gently folding the pamphlet and tucking it away into his pocket. “They didn’t just mark him, they put him down right before (Y/N). Is he that good?”

Namjoon pinched his face up in annoyance, the way he did when he wanted to yell or curse someone out but ultimately refrained from doing so for the sake of diplomacy.

He leaned closer to Taehyung, lowering his voice by several decibels so that the members of the club rushing around in preparation couldn’t overhear.

“In all honesty? No.” Namjoon glowered. “He’s the son of the head of the English Department, but he doesn’t have a lick of literary talent in his bones. He can barely tell a simile from a metaphor.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows shot up as he leaned back to look at him in surprise.

“Every so often, the department head will beg for us to let him read on stage to save face. He has us take pictures, put them on our social media sites just to keep up appearances. But his works...” Namjoon shuddered, not even bothering to finish his sentence.

“So he’s a tool.” Taehyung summed up. 

“Pretty much. We don’t like having him show up and read, but this club and our Open Mic Nights are founded by his dad’s department, so it’s not like we have much of a choice.” Namjoon grumbled, glancing toward the door before averting his eyes just as quickly. “Speak of the devil-”

“Namjoon!” A cheery voice called from behind him, and Taehyung turned to see one of the most annoying people he would ever come to meet.

The fellow college student was only a couple inches shorter than Taehyung, with mousy brown hair and eyes that were green like the algae that floated at the top of the campus pond.

“Mateo.” Namjoon nodded with a polite smile, dapping him up. If the guy had any theories about Namjoon’s dislike toward him, he’d never find any evidence. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, man! I’m pumped for tonight.” He turned to Taehyung with a smile that kindly displayed the rows of teeth that didn’t quite fit into his mouth and extended a hand. “Hey, how you doing, man? I’m Mateo.”

“Taehyung.” He shook his hand with displeasure.

“Taehyung here is like a younger brother to me,” Namjoon proudly introduced. “One of the top students in the university’s Art Department.”

“Dude, no way! You were totally giving me the artsy vibe.” Mateo grinned. “I heard everyone over there is stuck up their ass beyond belief--you fit right in!”

He then bursted out into the ugliest guffaw Taehyung had ever heard, and he stiffened up as he felt the other male’s fist hit his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, bro!” Mateo said, still chuckling when no one else was. “I’m totally yanking your chain. Loosen up! It’s a perfect night.”

Taehyung simply let out a smile (that looked more like a grimace) resisting the urge to punch the guy in the neck.

Just at that moment, Namjoon waved to someone from across the room. “(Y/N)! Come on over.”

You had walked out from the back area in search of Taehyung before the start of the show. He found you a wondrous sight compared to the person standing beside him.

For the past couple of weeks, the two of you would share a couch in the cafe, discussing people’s poems as they went before it was finally your turn. 

You waved back at them with a hearty smile that made Taehyung’s heart melt.

For a split second, he thought he saw a shift in your expression when you turned to look at Mateo.

But just like that, it was gone, and you were already walking toward them.

“(Y/N)-”

“(N/N)!” Taehyung bristled as the sound of Mateo’s voice shouting your nickname overpowered his. You gave him a halfhearted wave as you approached, standing between your boyfriend and your senior, and folded your arms across each other.

“Hey, Mateo. Welcome back.” Your voice, soft and graceful as ever, was a welcome change to the foolishness Taehyung had been forced to endure for the past several minutes.

“Hey, sunshine.” Taehyung tried again, this time thankfully met with no interruptions as he wrapped an arm around your waist to press you into his side. He lay a gentle kiss onto the side of your head, and you flushed, returning the show of affection with a kiss to his cheek.

Mateo gaped openly at the two of you before pointing a finger, switching it back and forth as though he’d made some great revelation. “Whaaat! You’re dating our little (Y/N)?”

Your brows furrowed ever so slightly. Since when were you his anything?

Meanwhile Taehyung, on the other hand, was about two seconds away from committing murder.

“She’s not our anything, Mateo. She’s her own person.” Namjoon deadpanned, already exhausted before the event could even begin. “And these two have been dating for some time now.”

“I didn’t mean it like that! No, that’s awesome for you both.” Mateo spread his hands placatingly, a folded piece of paper that was presumably his work clutched tightly in one hand. “Cheers to the happy couple!”

“Thanks, but no need.” You gracefully turned him down, choosing instead to turn to Taehyung. “Do you wanna go grab our seats?”

He beamed down at you. “Anything for you, sunshine.” 

Taehyung bid farewell to Namjoon and Mateo with a nod and whisked you away from there. He was relieved to be out of the other male’s presence.

Unfortunately, that was not even the most uncomfortable part of the night.

For the rest of the evening, you and Taehyung were subject to Mateo’s obnoxious boos for the lined up guest readers of the night, and when he did cheer, it was for those who had only signed up as a joke. 

Taehyung watched you frown as you saw an underclassman slump back to their seat in tears, and the hurt you felt for them made his blood boil. He already knew what you were going to ask when you turned back to look at him, and he just nodded, mouthing for you to go.

You did this for a while, hopping between tables to comfort those who were subjected to Mateo’s bullying. 

Finally, the first of many highlights to Taehyung’s night arrived.

It was Mateo’s turn to perform.

It turns out, “Hummingbird Beauty” was just about the most misogynistic piece of filth ever written. 

In the poem, the narrator describes meeting who they thought was the love of their life. The thing was, the other person had no interest in them whatsoever. They continuously chase after and harass the person, the “hummingbird,” only to ridicule it until it no longer possess its beauty.

The entire time, Taehyung stared blankly up at the stage. There was no way this was real, right? Your underclassman deserved to be up there more than he did with that trash.

Even so, the moment Mateo was done reading, claps were heard from all around the cafe. They were slow and unenthusiastic, but he still received applause.

Taehyung was aghast.

How could anyone possibly think that was good?

At this point, you were preparing to take his place on stage, and Taehyung couldn’t have been more relieved.

There was a brief interaction while Mateo was handing you the microphone that Taehyung missed, but he was just so ready to focus on your reading and get out of there for the night, he thought he saw wrong.

That is, until Mateo sat next to him.

“Sooo? What’d you think?” He waggled his eyebrows at him as though they were friends.

Taehyung ignored him, of course. 

“Ah, right. My bad. I shouldn’t interrupt while you’re paying attention to your girlfriend’s reading.” He whispered, continuing to speak. “I just felt you should know something. Y’know, from man to man.”

He glanced at Mateo, irritation seeping its way into his expression. The other male had no intention of getting the hint.

“What.” Taehyung whispered flatly.

“It’d be best if you heard it outside.” Mateo said, rising a few moments after. Follow me.”

Taehyung had no intention of doing so, but when he caught the look on Mateo’s face, he felt the need to change his mind. Besides, he didn’t want the prick interrupting anymore of the night than he already had.

Mateo led him out to the empty hallway that connected to the bathrooms.

“What do you want?” 

“I’m going to need you to break up with (Y/N).” He said with a serious expression.

Taehyung paused in genuine shock.

“...What?”

“You heard me.” He said, jabbing a finger into Taehyung’s shirt. “I’ve known her for much longer than you have. We have a connection, and we have history. She’s supposed to be with me. So don’t go sticking your nose into relationships that you have nothing to do with.”

The fool then looked around as if there was someone who would overhear them and, rocking back and forth on his heels, said “I don’t know if you can tell, but she’s my hummingbird. I wrote my poem about her.”

“Look,” Taehyung interrupted, his irritation seeping into his tone now, “I don’t know what you’ve got going on in your thick skull, but (Y/N) and I are together now. Always have been, always will be. I wouldn’t let her go for anything in this world.

“Besides, if you had so much time and history, why wouldn’t you have made a move by now? Unless you did, and she didn’t reciprocate your feelings. So I hate to break it to you, but that’s all there is when it comes to that.” Taehyung finished and turned away, thoroughly done with both Mateo and the conversation.

“Oh yeah?” He could practically hear the smirk in the little shit’s voice. “If she didn’t reciprocate my feelings, then why did I get to cop a feel on stage?”

Taehyung froze.

And then, he snapped.

He remembers the hallway lights flickering off for a few seconds, and the red ‘EXIT’ sign hanging above the door in front of them being the only thing illuminating his expression of rage.

He remembers dragging Mateo out of said door to the thunderous applause that sounded from the audience, impressed by your reading.

He vividly remembers grabbing the brunette by his thick neck and repeatedly slamming his forehead into the brick wall, the crunch an extremely satisfying contrast to his unpleasant voice.

And he did that until he was satisfied, and then he flipped Mateo over to hold him by the collar. 

“You didn’t get to do anything. You fucking assaulted by girlfriend, you self absorbed prick. You’re a nuisance to everyone around you, and I bet even little daddy dearest wouldn’t care if I left you a corpse in this alleyway. How about it, man? You tell me. Should I make good on my threat?”

“Nooo, n-no, I didn’t mean to, I swear I didn’t mean it.” Mateo was blubbering nonsense at this point, blood from his forehead cascading down his face in rivers, muttering shallow pleads for his life. “P-please don’t kill me, please.”

Taehyung stared at him for a couple minutes before he tsked loudly. “I shouldn’t even have to waste my time with the likes of you. Stop crying. You’ll live...for now.”

The other man sobbed gratefully, head swimming in every direction. “Thank you...thank you-”

Taehyung didn’t let him finish, jerking him forward to whisper into his ear. 

“But if I ever catch you hanging around (Y/N) again, I will personally drain your body dry and use your blood as paint in my next masterpiece. Got it?”

Mateo whimpered pitifully, nodding in his desperation to prove he understood.

“Good.” Taehyung grinned, then slammed his head into the brick one last time, leaving his body to slump to the floor.

When you went searching for Taehyung later that night to gather help for cleanup, you found him hanging out by the bathroom. 

“Hey, lovely.” You smiled and walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his midsection in a hug. “Where were you?”

“Had to make an important call.” He replied, grinning down at you and hugging you back. “I didn’t want to interrupt your or Namjoon hyung’s performance.”

"That’s fair. It’s a shame you missed it, though.” You hummed.

“Luckily for me, my girlfriend and one of my best friends are the two stars of the night, so they can read it for me anytime. And I’m sure you did amazing.” He nuzzled his nose into yours, then suddenly lifted you up and spun you around, and you laughed out in surprise.

Had you been just a bit more observant, you would have seen the drops of blood staining Taehyung’s shoes.

UnFortunately for you, you weren’t.  

Funnily enough, after that night, the English Department head called Namjoon and told him that Mateo wouldn’t be coming around anymore. In fact, he wouldn’t even be continuing his education at the same school.

You shared the news with Taehyung in happy surprise, and he’d simply smiled at you, saying “Perhaps it was fate’s intervention.”

That night, he made another trip down to the basement, one that resulted in a haunting painting of a man holding onto nothing in the air.

His shadow lay before him, cast into a brick wall, and on the shadow, blood surrounded his head like a halo and cascaded down like a curtain.

His housemates were thoroughly impressed by the site, typically used to Taehyung’s darker paintings, but extremely put off by this one in particular.

(Maybe it was them, but the blood in that painting looked a little too dark…even after the varnish was applied.)

Yes, it was completely acceptable for you be a bit more reserved, to take your time when showing your love.

For Taehyung would always be willing to show how much he truly loved you.

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

By the time most of his hyungs had graduated and you and Taehyung had entered senior year, your relationship was well underway. 

Before he’d graduated, Namjoon held a ceremony where he’d formally inducted you as the head of the Open Mic Nights, taking up his old position as the organizer of the event and the last performer of the night. 

Your boyfriend had proudly jumped on stage, presenting you with a brand new writing journal and a beautiful bouquet. 

Taehyung no longer needed Namjoon to drag him to the cafe. He’d frequented the place enough to know the inside and outside well in detail.  

He consistently attended the events, helping out with setup, cleanup, and most importantly, calming your nerves before you went out to read.

With his help, you gained the courage to stay around after all the performances rather than slinking into the backroom and hiding from any prying eyes.

Taehyung would never forget the look on your face when several starry eyed underclassmen approached you, entranced by your words and spewing questions about your poem. It took everything in him to bite his lip and hide the boxed grin of pride that was sure to burst out on his face.

While Taehyung assisted you with your craft, you did everything in your power to assist him with his.

Whenever the opportunity was presented, you would drag Taehyung to the nearest art museum and spend hours browsing around the galleries. 

There were times where you felt that poetry was an absolute comfort to you because it could compensate and speak for you where, otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to find the words. But other forms of art didn’t need words, and you appreciated them just as much, if not more.

You never explicitly asked Taehyung to show you his paintings, just as he never explicitly asked to see your poems. You both felt that your art was very personal, and most times only wanted to share the best of the best with one another.

Of course, there were also those rare, precious moments where you’d show him the abstract thoughts you planned to turn into a poem, or he slid a small sketch your way.

No matter how difficult college and life had gotten for the two of you, you stuck together. You were inspired by one another, and you both grew and flourished together.

It was a love that almost stood the test of time.

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

Druviere Fara did not take lightly those who wasted their potential in life.

As one of the most influential gallerists of his time, he picked and chose his artists with the utmost concern. He chose art that spoke to him, works that would not be found in his competitors’ array of blobs and splashes. Works that he could proudly call “art.”

Druviere Fara did not understand those who would willingly turn their back on fame.

As a lead curator in the Xiaks Institute of Craft, every fifteen minutes, he was meeting a young artist who had the potential to rocket up the artistic hierarchy. They approached him with determined eyes and impeccable fashion styles; something in their aura screamed “I am not of this world and it’s about time everyone else realized it.”

Years ago, he thought he’d discerned something akin to that in one art student his colleague had begged him to meet. They’d invited him over to Promise University and showed him the piece in person. 

There was a certain tenebrosity that hung around that work, he remembered. Something like the attitude of the chosen artists of Xiaks, but something unlike it as well. Something that showed Druviere there was more to this student than what met the eye.

He’d been feeling generous, tired of the familiar faces at Xiaks, and offered this student the opportunity to have his art hanging in their institute, something so prestigious and coveted, surely there would have been no way to mess it up.

Yet two weeks later, the kid was a no show, and all of his calls were going to voicemail.

Druviere Fara did not go to voicemail.

He had put the student out of mind and went on with his day.

Yet, some time later, he had received an email from said student, a sort of apology for wasting his time.

Nevertheless, for an apology, the email sounded anything but apologetic.

Dear Mr. Fara,

         I hope your morning is going well. I hope it is going much, much better than mine was the morning that we were intended to meet. I was, and still am, honored by the opportunity of having my art hanging in your institute, yet because of my foolish mistakes, I was unable to show you my best self and my best work. I sincerely apologize for having wasted your and Professor Kara’s time.

        Upon having realized this, I lost myself to my emotions, becoming a force of destruction to everything around me, including my prized piece. I was too busy wallowing in self pity to go on--that is, until I met a certain someone. She has become my inspiration, and for her, I will continue with my passions and career in life. Rather than letting this be the culmination of my efforts, this will be my turning point. 

        I hope to be able to meet you again someday in the future, where you will once again be able to offer me the advice and opportunity I so carelessly floundered. 

       I also hope that, at that time, I will have works that are truly representative of myself and my potential. I used to only be able to see art through one lens, forcing myself to create works that I did not put my entire soul into. As precious as it was to me, my prized piece was one of those works.

      Now, however, I am able to see the world through a much clearer lens. Perhaps a bit too explicitly, but clear nonetheless. As ugly, malformed, greedy, selfish, petty, and corrupted as this world and the people in it are, they are beautiful. And as an acquaintance of mine once said, we are human, and that makes us beautiful.

     Sincerely,

           Kim Taehyung

For the past two and a half years, Druviere wondered what possibly could have been going through this student’s head to make him think he cared. 

Yet, despite his outward attitude, this email never left his mind. It never left his inbox, sitting at the bottom of endless requests and pleas for his attention. It left him feeling unsatisfied, and curious, like someone who had given up on finding a hidden treasure.

Kim Taehyung’s email laughed at him from the bottom of the screen, twinkling in a sort of satisfied victory. “I will get famous on my own,” it taunted. “I don’t need you.”

Druviere Fara never lost. And he most certainly was never chucked to the side like a toy that lost its appeal.

And with his mind made up, he pulled his chair up to his desk and opened the aged email.

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

As much as you loved words, you had a hard time finding ones that would appropriately describe your senior year of college. 

A phenomenon unlike any other? A quick dive into Dante’s ninth circle of hell? 

Whichever words you decided to go with, it was finally over. 

You and Taehyung had both successfully gotten your degrees and, despite the lack of a clear path for the future, you knew that the both of you would walk it together, and that meant the world.

The two of you were planning to move into an apartment together next month, ready to commence the next stage of your relationship. 

That night, however, Taehyung had hosted a graduation party, inviting his old and existing roommates and a couple of your friends to the apartment he still shared with his best friend and younger friend. The newly graduated and alumni spent time drinking and catching up with one another, sharing their plans for the future.

His roommates looked at him in shock the moment they’d seen your face, some teasing him behind your back. Although you weren’t sure why, you found it endearing.

You greeted them pleasantly, excited to meet the friends Taehyung had practically been raised with. Namjoon gave you a knowing smile as the two of you hugged.

The night was just beginning when a close friend of yours, Armani, stood up, claiming she had an announcement to make.

“I would just like to thank the wonderful host and all of his friends for their hospitality,” she giggled as she hid something behind her back. 

“With as much as we have been through the past couple of years, it’s about time we get some good news, eh?” She waggled her eyebrows at you as the boys held up their drinks in agreement. You cocked your head at her inquisitively.

“As most of us know, our dear (Y/N) has a fantastic way with words. She delights the masses, scribbling in her journals endlessly and spends each day with her head in the clouds.” The guys cheered louder and you felt yourself growing embarrassed. 

“I am pleased to announce that, because of all her hard work, her dreaming now comes to an end!” Armani slaps her hand on the table, bringing down and envelope with it. An envelope that stated it was from TreasuredLivres, an up and coming publishing company within their city.

Your jaw dropped and your hand trembled as you reached for the letter. Knowing Armani, it wouldn’t have been opened already. But they only would have sent this if--

“They want to publish a collection of your poetry!” Your friend squealed and tackled you in a hug as the partygoers cheered. 

Your heart soared. “No way...there’s no way! Are you serious?!”

“One of the editors was a fan of your readings at the cafe poetry jams! They happened to sit next to me and I told them all about your works and dedication to your writing.” Armani gushed, hugging you while you held on to the envelope. “We exchanged emails, I snuck some of your poems away, and long story short...”

As long as it took with your trembling digits, you opened the letter and read its contents for yourself. Upon seeing the “We are pleased to inform you of our decision,” you knew it was the truth.

Your friends stood around you, cheering with excitement while it was all you could do not to let the tears fall down your cheek.  

It was just like Armani to hide a surprise like this, just when you would be stuck in your mind, thinking about your next, unsure stage of life.

Taehyung gathered you in his arms, a familiar boxy grin on his face and held you as the sobs broke. They were happy tears, of course, but he made sure he was the only one who would be able to see them.

Eventually, you were able to calm yourself and thanked everyone for the congratulations. 

To you, there had never been a more beautiful night.

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

Later in the evening, closer to the early morning, when the music had quieted down and everyone else had gone to bed, Taehyung gently took your hand and led you down the stairs of his apartment.

The walk down was familiar, and so was the smell of paint drying and the sight of canvases propped up against the wall. 

What wasn’t familiar, however, was the bright, white sheets that covered each canvas.

He stood you in the center of the cold room, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. “Angel, can you do something for me?”

You nodded, a little nervous.

“Can you close your eyes for me? I need those pretty jewels to stay away until I say so, okay?”

You blushed and nodded again, closing your eyes and covering them with your hands for good measure.

You heard Taehyung huff out a laugh before he stepped away, rustling around with the sheets. There was the sound of a flip switching and some more rustling before he stated very, very softly. “You can open your eyes now.”

You slowly peeled away your hands, mouth gaping open at the fairy lights that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. They dangled over the canvases, the painting’s surface filled with imagery and color that brought more tears to your eyes.

It was you.

In his art, in his prized pieces. 

It was you talking to him that first day on the lawn, you reading at the cafe, you looking up at a painting in the museum, you standing amongst a myriad of flowers in a field.

You had never imagined that, after all this time, Taehyung was as inspired by you as you were by him. He’d never said, and you never assumed. You didn’t want to hinder his process by asking any invading questions but to think he had you on his mind with such frequency that he could perfectly replicate your moments together...

It made you dizzy with happiness.

You turned around to say something, anything, but the sight before you made you stop short. If the paintings hadn’t made you speechless, this certainly had.

Rather than a box, Taehyung presented you with a (silver/gold) ring resting on photograph. You had seen this picture before; he always claimed it was his favorite one. 

In the photograph, the two of you sat in the grass underneath the very tree where you’d first met. It was taken around your third or fourth date; he had suggested an impromptu picnic on the lawn so that the both of you would still have time to meet up that day before jetting off to classes.

You sat unbothered by the breeze, laughing in the picture with your face scrunched up in joy. He had a similar smile on his face, but rather than facing the camera, his head was turned toward you.

Taehyung gulped and gently picked up the ring. He flipped the photograph over, allowing you to see the words written on it, and you laughed as you started crying for the second time that night.

It was a poem.

He’d written his proposal to you in a poem, the bunched-together words telling tales of the moment he knew he’d fallen for you, and the promises he’d make and keep for you.

As you read, you had to keep pausing to wipe the tears out of your eyes.

When you finally finished, you looked up and to your surprise, he was crying as well. Silently, brown pools filled to the brim with water, glossy and warm under the fairy lights.

Like dewdrops on flower petals in the early morning, curling, stretching past the hurt.

Wordlessly, you nodded and flung yourself into his arms. 

And the both of you dissolved into joyous laughter, refusing to let each other go long enough for him to even slide the ring onto your finger. 

But he did, and Taehyung swears he’d never felt more complete than the moment he knew you were his.

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

“I will never forget the beauty in

his eyes

as he looked into my own

and pledged his love to me.

and I will always remember

feeling the beauty in my eyes

as I looked into his,

and said “I love you too.”

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

Taehyung woke up the next morning over the moon.

He spotted his muse, still asleep, and smiled, admiring the way the morning light glinted off of your ring.

There were no words for the way that he felt, so heavily his love for you weighed down on his chest.

The only thing he wanted to do was to snuggle up next to you and go back to sleep, dreaming of your future life. However, an email notification on his phone caught his eye, and he whispered the sender’s name aloud in amazement.

“Druviere Fara...?”

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

 It was a once in a million tale of meeting your soulmate in college, and living a life of happiness and success together forever after. 

After graduation. you went on to become a fairly well known poet.

Of course, it took some time for your first collection to gain traction, but one well placed remark in an interview from accomplished poet and editor Kim Namjoon was just the right spark to put you on the literary map.

As your works flourished, so did Taehyung’s career.

The one and only Druviere Fara, unable to rid himself of that cursed email, met with Taehyung after all those years and finally got to see his paintings. 

The tenebrosity of the young man’s work had not changed; if anything, it had just gotten stronger. 

Yet it was because of that feeling, the emotions lurking in the shadows, that he wanted those same paintings to hang in his gallery. 

“And who is this lovely young woman?” Druviere questioned the younger artist. 

Taehyung smiled fondly, looking at your visage. “My fiancée, the acquaintance I spoke about in our email.”

Druviere nodded, intrigued by his portrayal of her image. “These works are exquisite...I must admit, I’m especially partial to the couple paintings of her and the self portrait you have created.” He cleared his throat, prying his eyes away from your painting.

“It would be good for these works to be hung in the gallery first, along with some of your other creations.”

The smile on Taehyung’s face didn’t drop. Rather, it became tight and cold, as if it were painful for him to keep his jovial expression up.

“With all due respect, Mr. Fara, I have no intention of displaying these to the public.” He spoke concisely and sharply, making it sound as though the aged gallerist were the one brought in to be scrutinized. “It is extremely personal to both my fiancée and I. She is not such an outgoing person in the first place. The only reason why I brought it here today is because you requested to see all of my works.”

Druviere stared at the young man for a long while. The gloom and anger of the self portrait seemed to be coming to life before his very eyes, and he knew better than to mess with such forces.

“Of course, Mr. Kim.” He laughed in a good natured manner. “You have provided me with quite the selection.” 

He offered Taehyung a position as curator, giving him the opportunity to fill out the appropriate paperwork and attend an interview. Should he pass, he would be allowed access to design his own gallery in one of Xiaks’ museums.

“I simply request you hang your self portrait and a few other choice works in the gallery; everything personal may remain under your jurisdiction.”

Needless to say, Taehyung yearned for the opportunity. In front of Druviere, however, he remained calm and collected. 

His icy facial expression sent a chill down Druviere’s back, and the older man preened with pride. 

“That’s the composure of a Xiaks artist,” the gallerist gruffly praised. “Keep that, and we can send you well on your way, soaring to the sky.”

The temperature in the air rose back to normal and the graduate reached his hand out to shake. “Then we have a deal.”

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

Later, when asked, Taehyung would say that he’d always known she’d be his.

Later, when asked, their colleagues would mention how pure their love for one another was. 

They would talk about how they inspired one another from the very beginning and went on to live very happy, enriching lives.

At least, that’s what was supposed to happen.

So how did it get to this?

How had the ending to your fairytale become so grossly corrupted, so irrevocably challenged?

When did the person meant to be your Prince Charming become your greatest antagonist?

Perhaps you were the one to blame.

——————————————————————

You hated it. 

Everywhere you went, people muttered about the shocking outcome of your grand “battle” with the Augustus princess. The stories being spun about the entire thing could’ve won creative writing contests.

Some of the students figured you took the week off in an attempt to cover up for your convenient disappearance from Ichabod. 

Others said you escaped from the brink of death and fought Aemilia, only returning to school once you were victorious. 

There were even some who said that you managed to summon Wylynne herself and convinced her to give Aemilia her due divine retribution.

By homeroom, students who were “supporting” you in those two weeks prior to your...incident...were exchanging bets with those who were backing Aemilia. 

You were not used to being the center of attention, and definitely not in the way that you were receiving it now.

Someone even stopped you between classes, trying to interview you for an article in the school paper. 

“Small time, little known family girl abolishes small town royalty.”

It was not as though anyone really liked Aemilia, or even felt bad for her. It was simply the way things were. She was one of the people at the top and everyone else, wasn’t.

According to even more rumors, no one had seen her since Friday. 

Brooklyn and Constance hardly knew anything, either, given their huge argument. If they heard any rumors out of Aemilia’s favor, they didn’t defend her, but they didn’t say anything about the rumors that supported you, either. 

The environment was turbulent. 

The queen bee goes missing over the weekend, and you coincidentally return, entering the school with the Kims after receiving an unofficial omen of death. 

It didn’t take long for people to put the puzzle pieces together.

Despite the fact that, to you, they were collecting pieces for a puzzle that didn’t exist.

The lunch bell rang and you couldn’t find the energy in you to move from where you sat, head slumped over onto your folded arms, resting on your desk. 

There was little point in focusing on a Geometry lesson when everyone, yourself included, was busy pondering your chances for survival tonight.

Next to you, Jimin tried to peer into your eyes from under your arms, tilting his head until it was below his desk to meet your gaze. “(Y/N)?”

You met his gaze and looked away but didn’t budge, letting out a heavy sigh.

Mana clapped loudly in front of you. “Alright. Enough of this mopey attitude. You did nothing wrong, (Y/N). It’s not your fault that no one in the school can hang onto their common sense.”

Their snippy tone softened by a multitude and they continued. “I know you skipped breakfast this morning like the nervous wreck you are. Let’s go to lunch so you can get something to eat. Then we can come back here and you do whatever you want. How does that sound?”

You pondered their request.

“They’re right, (Y/N).” Jimin joined in, his voice low and comforting. “I’m familiar with what you’re going through. The rumors will die down eventually but you don’t have to worry, we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

As much as you didn’t want to move, you could hardly refuse such a logical argument. Besides, having them with you would make the entire experience that much easier to deal with.

You slowly sat up, now relieved by how quickly your classmates had left the room, and nodded. 

Before you could reach for your bag, Jimin grinned and took it for you, then walked off toward the door. He waited for Mana to drag you up and out the room and you smiled slightly at him in thanks.

When the three of you reached the cafeteria doors, you found Jungkook leaning casually up against a wall, paying no mind to Taehyung, who paced restlessly in front of him. Jungkook waved at you all with a smile, causing his brother to turn around.

Taehyung grinned. “You guys kept us waiting! I’m starved--let’s go!” 

Before you could say anything, he shimmied himself between you and Jimin, locked arms with you, and pulled you into the cafeteria. 

If the staring was bad the last time the five of you had lunch together, this time was astronomically worse. 

The room fell dead silent and stayed that way, even as you walked to your regular table and took your seats.

You shifted uncomfortably under the weight of everyone’s gazes, wanting to eat without being scrutinized, and hoped that chatter would pick back up again soon.

It did. 

But only because Brooklyn and Constance were heading in your table’s direction.

Mana sucked their teeth as the two approached. 

You noted that the brunette switched places with the blonde, making sure Constance was on the other side of her, closer to you and Mana, than to the boys.

That didn’t seem to make them feel any better about the interaction. You sent a quick glance in the males’ direction and shivered from how cold their gazes were, eyes locked onto Constance and Brooklyn.

You slid your eyes back toward the two and lifted a hand, waving halfheartedly at them. “Hey. Did you have another soda to ‘accidentally’ drop down my back or...?”

Mana snorted as Constance flinched. “No, no. We...we wanted to say we’re sorry about that, and all the other dumb things we did.” She spoke in a clipped tone, as if every other word was caught in her throat, but at least she apologized. 

Your friend scoffed. “You think your apology will suddenly make up for everything? You and you best friend bullied her for weeks. And if you couldn’t do it yourself, you found someone else to do it. But all of a sudden it’s okay?” They rolled their eyes. “If anything, I bet you two were the ones who put that missing poster up in the first place.”

Jimin and Taehyung narrowed their eyes at the accusation.

Constance’s eyes comically popped open and she shook her head and hands. “No, that wasn’t us! I promise!”

“She’s right,” The brunette confidently chimed in, “It was Aemilia. I saw her stay after school last last Friday.”

You stiffened.

“She looked as though she was coming from the roof, and she was walking toward the bulletin board with some papers in her hand. I didn’t try to follow her to see what was going on, though.”

“You could have taken it down.” Mana argued.

“We couldn’t have. You know the policy about removing missing posters from the board.” Brooklyn stated.

Mana was right, though. Knowing how often Brooklyn and Constance got away with anything and everything, they could have taken the poster down and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference to the school faculty. 

They glowered at the girls. 

Brooklyn pursed her lips. “We just wanted to clear the air and tell you that we’re no longer Aemilia’s...friends.” Her expression darkened. “That’s mostly what I wanted to talk to you about, anyway.”

You blinked. “...Really?”

“Yes.” Brooklyn tapped her nail against the back of her phone case, shifting around uncomfortably. “As unexpected as it was, you helped us bring the truth about Aemilia’s feelings and actions about us to light.” You noticed as the brunette curled her lip as she spoke the other girl’s name. 

The strawberry blonde’s regard for them must have been just as bad, if not worse, than you thought. 

“Thanks for telling it to us straight, I guess. If you hadn’t, it would’ve taken way longer for us to have realized. We...” She cast a quick glance to the three glowering brothers at your table and quickly focused back on you.

We might’ve been stuck wherever Aemilia is now, suffering with her. All for nothing.

“...It’s...something else...when someone you’ve treated poorly has your interests in mind more than someone you thought you were close with. And you didn’t have to do that at all. So yeah. Thanks.”

It wasn’t that Brooklyn was being ingenuine. She truly just wasn’t used to apologizing or owning up to her actions. 

Yet another thing she had grown comfortable with in Aemilia’s presence.

You shook your head. “It’s fine. What happened, happened. I wasn’t holding any grudges anyway.” You sent her a small smile.

“I’m glad that you two at least have each other as friends,” You said as you looked out at Mana, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. “They can make a world of a difference around here.”

The brothers preened at your praise, the irony of just how much of a difference they made on your life not lost on them. 

“...Yeah. They can.” Brooklyn held your gaze for a long while and nodded, before a small smile appeared on her face. “You know, you aren’t so bad, (L/N). Soda soaked or otherwise.”

She then took Constance’s hand and, without sparing a glance to anyone else in the cafeteria, they walked out.

You had been so caught up in this conversation that you hadn’t realized the impact it had on the rest of the student body. The moment the two left, even more puzzle pieces clicked into place in people’s minds.

Aemilia had lost the support of her posse because of some discovered truth. You were the one to help Brooklyn and Constance realize that. 

The Hayes and Pierre children treated you with something akin to....no, something that was, respect.

Indeed, the hierarchy of Ichabod Academy was shifting.

And somehow, (Y/N) (L/N) just found herself placed near the top.

——————————————————————

When Jimin came home that afternoon, he felt like he was floating on air.

Ever since lunch, he’d had a huge smile on his face. It hadn’t been washed away by the droll of afternoon classes or by anything his brothers said or did, much to their annoyance.

Any outsider would have assumed that something glorious would have happened in order to induce that cherubic smile. 

In fact, something glorious had happened.

He practically skipped into the living room, causing Seokjin and Yoongi to look up at him in curiosity as he threw his school bag down onto a settee. 

The second oldest scoffed with a small smirk on his face. “What’s got you so excited?”

Jimin sat down with a satisfied plop and informed them of what happened at lunch today, relishing in the memory.

He couldn’t stop replaying it in his mind. 

Aemilia’s lackeys came up to you, unprovoked, and apologized. 

Namjoon and Hoseok shook their heads as Taehyung and Jungkook jumped in with their own details, telling how they struggled to hold in their laughter at the sight of Constance shaking in her boots behind Brooklyn.

Yoongi’s smirk widened into a gummy grin and Seokjin’s eyes lit up with a proud, mischievous light.

Finally, you were starting to receive a glimpse of the respect and treatment that you were well deserving of. 

It was everything they’d wanted. 

Delightful chills went down Jimin’s back as he recalled the uninvolved expression on your face, the way you barely glanced at your peers, and kept your head high as you walked between them.

Rather than having the stench of Aemilia’s putrid perfume drifting around them, or the irritating sound of Brooklyn and Constance’s tittering follow behind them all day, they much preferred being surrounded by your quiet intensity.

Even though all the brats around them couldn’t stop talking today, not one of them dared to cross your path or violate your space like they had in the past weeks.

Couldn’t you see? 

What did it matter that you wanted to remain in hiding?

Things were better this way.

It seemed as though Namjoon’s plan was successful after all.

The boys felt much better in this moment than they had in the entire past week, their anxiety and helplessness curling away like the smoke of a dying flame.

To make matters even better, Moonsik and Eunbyul weren’t there to annoy them with their presence, considering how the two had been away from the house all day to prepare for the ceremony.

What could possibly make their day better?

The seven stilled as the piercing sound of chains rang out, rattling below them, loud and tempting.

Jimin’s eyes practically shone as he grinned.

He stood corrected. 

——————————————————————

Your knees couldn’t stop shaking.

You sat at the kitchen table as your mother stood over the stove, fresh out of work. The two of you were still in your respective uniforms and your mother was making dinner, trying to come up with a meal that would be able to sustain you both long enough for around midday tomorrow.

It was necessary to take your fill tonight, as hardly anyone was able to comfortably eat after witnessing the horrors that awaited you in the early morning.

But now, you were caught in quite a dilemma.

Your feet rested on the leg of your chair and it provided enough leverage for you to bounce your metatarsals up and down in worry.

You huffed quietly and dropped your phone on the table, offended by the fact that the device couldn’t properly do its job of distracting you, and leaned your head back against the top of the wooden chair.

The ceiling fan went around and around and around and around. You kept your eye on one particular panel as it circled, the rest of them passing like a blur outside of your vision. 

You tilted your head to the right, watching your mother’s back.

“Hey, Mom?” 

“Yes?” She responded, focusing her efforts on perfecting the meal.

“I love you.”

Your mother didn’t turn around but you could hear the frown in her voice. “Don’t say it like that. That’s so cryptic.”

You snorted at her response, a smile appearing on your face despite your worry. “What do you mean? I can say it how I’d like.”

She hummed disinterestedly and threw her head over her shoulder to reply, but caught the expression on your face. “What’s wrong?”

You met her gaze and shook your head, and she didn’t look like she was buying it. Thankfully, though, she didn’t question you any further.

You wouldn’t have known how to vocalize your concern. 

The fear that currently rested in the pit of your stomach was different than any usual fear you experienced the evening before a ceremony. 

Uncertainty crawled its way from your stomach up your throat and wrapped itself around your vocal chords, making you feel as though you’d choke if you tried to say anything else for the rest of the night.

“I love you too,” She stated after a while. It was quiet, but it was strong, and you smiled as those few words put you more at ease.

Looking back on this month, it was undoubtedly the strangest interval you had ever experienced.

You had suddenly started talking to and associating with people you normally don’t, and it felt like the usual order was thrown out of wack.

And something was going to have to happen to put things back in the proper order--whatever that was going to be, it was what you feared the most.

You’d had a terrible feeling at the pit of your stomach since this morning, and the day’s events only made you feel worse.

Sure, it was all well and good that Brooklyn and Constance apologized and wouldn’t be tormenting you anytime soon. But they didn’t apologize because they felt bad. They only did so because they were grateful to you for getting them away from Aemilia’s antics before they took the fall with her.

Yet who were you to have jurisdiction over their fate like that?

The sound of your mother clanking dishes onto the table broke you out of your thoughts, and even though you didn’t have much of an appetite, you forced yourself to eat.

After dinner, you allowed yourself a slight reprieve from your earlier thoughts. You took a shower, completed some of your missing assignments from the past week, read some books, scrolled through social media, and succeeded in trying to distract yourself from the inevitable.

Then, far too soon, you heard a knock at your door. 

Your mother opened it, already dressed in her ivory gown, and gave you the look.

Without another word, you stood from your bed and removed your pajamas, changing into the white dress that had been hanging on your closet door since earlier this afternoon.

You left your phone charging on your pillow and met up with your mother by the front door. She had already retrieved your cloaks from her closet.

She looked you in the eye as she took your hand in hers, giving it a tight squeeze. You locked eyes with her and nodded.

The door unlocked and swung open.

Then, the two of you were off.

——————————————————————

The forest was alive at night.

Wind whistled around tree trunks, causing the branches and leaves to sway to their own rhythm. Every shift made shadows dart in and out of your vision and you hiked your dress up higher. 

Shadows always made you feel like the forest was hunting you.

Your mother’s grip on your hand tightened, bringing you back to reality. She held you tightly as if she could tell you were ready to sprint out the forest at any moment.

For your sake and hers, she would never let you.

The earth squelched beneath your feet, the ground still wet from the bouts of rain over the weekend. 

The monotonous dripping from the leaves and your slow footsteps caused your mind to drift away once more, and you couldn’t help but remember the last time you were here.

The cold press of the gun into your back.

The numbness in your wrists from the ropes.

The ache in your ribs and head from the several hits you’d received.

You winced, pressing your free hand to your forehead. Your mother cast you a worried glance but you ignored her, letting your hand drop back down to your side.

The trees began to separate as their branches sneaked toward the sky, indicating that the two of you were nearing your destination.

Without realizing, your breathing had quickened. You tried gathering as much air into your lungs as possible, and found none there.

Your hands shook.

Your mother pulled you aside and threw her cloak onto the ground before pulling you down to sit on it. You did just that, resting your back against a random tree trunk.

She cradled your cheeks in her hands and carefully kneeled in front of you, making sure you were looking at her. 

She softly spoke.

“(Y/N). You haven’t been feeling well since this afternoon.” She moved her hands, resting them on your shoulder, her grip strong but caring. “But you have nothing to worry about. This is a night just like any other. You are going to come out of this perfectly fine.”

She waited with you until she couldn’t any longer. 

Thankfully, air flowed back into your lungs and your breathing soon returned to normal. You tightly squeezed her hand in silent thanks.

You made your way down the path, pausing as you reached the edge of the clearing.

The moon was bright tonight as well.

Your mother shook both the cloaks, throwing yours over your head and pulled the hood down as far as it would go. Even when you were too overwhelmed to speak, she seemed to know exactly what you needed.

Her cloak was a little muddy from where she’d thrown it, but it didn’t seem to bother her. Besides, the entire town would stand in a circle at the meeting, so no one would be able to catch the stain on her back anyway.

Your mother cast one more look in your direction.

You nodded. 

There was no more time to waste.

The both of you stepped into the clearing, joining the rush of townsfolk making their way to their positions.

From where you stood, you could see Mr. and Mrs. Kim at the forefront of the wooden stage. Their sons stood behind them, their respective masks over their faces.

They stood still as statues as the last of the latecomers joined the circle.

It was only when everyone stopped moving, when the silence in the forest itself was deafening, that he stepped forward.

Kim Moonsik lowered his hood and smiled, then twisted his wrist in a full circle and pointed his hand at the sky, slowly lowering his pinky and middle fingers. “Greetings to the moon from her earthly servants.”

You repeated the gesture and salutation along with everyone else, quietly uttering the phrase. 

You hadn’t seen him since the night where you’d been introduced to Seokjin and Yoongi. You remembered how he casually mentioned Chance Pierre and his “divine” punishment, how his oily voice lamented about the poor, foolish sinners in his midst.

The moonlight made his eyes turn black as night, as empty and soulless as the eyes on his sons’ masks.

“I am overjoyed to be standing here, in Wylynne’s divine presence, with you, my fellow citizens.” He beamed. “We find ourselves at the end of yet another month, graced by the moon’s eminence, as Ichabod stands tall and proud in all her glory.”

You shifted in place as he carried on with usual fervor. He spent the next twenty minutes praising the moon’s appearance on this fine, early morning and waxed poetic about how blessed you all were to be able to bask in her presence.

Just as you reached the point in his speech where you decided to stop listening, his tone darkened.

“Regardless,” he said, the smile slipping off his face, “A word of caution to those who wish to tempt fate.” 

His eyes hadn’t even moved in their direction, but you felt the atmosphere shift as, across the circle, the Pierre family stiffened.

“It will not end in your favor.”

It wasn’t hard to note them, considering the fact that poor Chance was still in a wheelchair. Two figures stood on either side of him, presumably his parents, his sister making the last of the line.

Those standing next to them inched a couple of steps away.

You internally sighed.

Kim Moonsik was always like this.

When you had all had a “good” month, the meeting was considerably short. He would rave on and on, praising Wylynne’s divinity, give out due punishment, then send everyone home.

On the contrary, when you had all had a bad month or, more specifically, “a month of sin,” his speech would warn against vanity and pride, or whatever it was that caused the individual’s downfall. Then he would give out due punishment and send everyone home.

You found it funny how the mayor would claim that Wylynne was treating you all so kindly, but every month someone got punished, regardless of whether they had received capital punishment or not.

“It is Wylynne who grants us favor, who pours prosperity and wealth into this town.” He continued. “It is by her endless grace that we flourish in the society that we are. Only by turning to her can we ease our troubles. Everything you wish for, everything you desire, is reached through her.”

Even freedom? You thought to yourself, even though you highly doubted it.

“For your own sake, refrain from attempting to go out and seek your own glory.” He finished, his voice calm despite the obvious threat his words carried. 

You glanced back toward the Pierres. They looked properly scolded; you couldn’t tell whether the slight movement of their robes was from them trembling from fear or from the cold.

Mr. Kim was silent once more, remnants of his speech echoing over and over again in your head. 

The nervous feeling from earlier returned full force and you shivered, gripping your mother’s hand even tighter. All this time, you clung to her, afraid that you would vanish into nothing the moment you let go.

“On that dreary note,” He finally spoke, clasping his hands together, “I come before you all with a heavy but joyful heart.”

“It is time to relinquish our sinners’ souls into the welcoming arms of the moon goddess.”

The pyre behind the stage was lit, orange flames dancing wildly in the wind. 

You could barely look in the mayor’s direction, frightened that once you met Kim Moonsik’s eyes, the purple flame within them would set you alight.

You wished the silence would swallow you whole so that you wouldn’t have to bear witness to the atrocities.

But without fail, unmistakeable screams pierced the clearing, coming from the side of the circle that was closest to the stage.

You saw two middle-aged people, a man and a woman, fall to the floor, doubled over in pain. Their hoods slipped off but they could hardly care, too busy gripping their heads.

Your mouth parted in shock.

Aloysius and Domitia Augustus were curled up on the ground, their low cries painfully loud in the clearing. 

Aemilia was nowhere to be found.

Soliders, the very same soliders who no less than a week ago took their orders from the Augustuses, dragged the two to the stage, kneeling them before the mayor.

Now that they were labeled as sinners, the middle man had been completely cut out, and the officers immediately responded to the Kims’ direct orders.

Kim Moonsik gazed down at their writhing bodies with little sympathy, raising his voice to be heard over the sounds of their cries. “The sinners of the Augustus family should have been punished years ago with their forefathers, but Wylynne granted them mercy. Our goddess blessed them with another chance, and what did they do? They squandered it.”

“Please!” Domitia Augustus cried out, fighting through the urge to wail out in pain. She yanked her arms out of the officers’ grip and grabbed at Mr. Kim’s robes. “Please spare my daughter-”

“Still, Wylynne is benevolent, and in order to keep their souls pure, she is allowing them into her heavenly army.” He carried on without batting an eye.

“The fault is ours, completely ours! She’s innocent, I beg of you!”

The mayor looked down at her. He gently pried her hands off of his robes and clutched them in his, placing one of his hands beneath hers and the other on top. He smiled at her, the moon causing his eyes to glisten.

“May your failures be a lesson, victories a reward, and may your soul live on with the moon forever.”

Nowhere in those dark, brown eyes could one find any sort of pity or remorse.

“May your soul live on with the moon forever,” you whispered the prayer of goodwill with the rest of the citizens.

A tear fell down Mrs. Augustus’ eye and she turned to her husband, only to see him alight with bright purple flames. A sob escaped her and she bent over in defeat.

It wasn’t long before that bright flame consumed her as well, and soon, there was nothing left of them.

The clearing fell eerily silent. 

You waited in anticipation for Mr. Kim to say his usual farewells and bid all of you goodnight, prepared to hightail it out of the forest as fast as possible.

It was moments like these that made you want to run away and stay away from the Kims.

The thought of having to see Jimin’s father again while you two were working on your project made you physically ill, especially after that sight.

But as the silence stretched on, deep, deep down in your gut, you knew.

Something was about to go wrong.

Horribly wrong.

Even so, it was already too late.

You heard yet another pair of guttural screams and you turned, barely catching the look of horror on Brooklyn’s face. Her hands shot to her head, fingers unceremoniously pulling on her hair as tears streaked out the corner of her eyes.

Why?

Constance was faring no better, the blonde’s screams hiccuped by heaving gasps and sobs. She kept on trying to push herself away from her parents, but her mother couldn’t seem to let go of her. 

Her son was taken not that long ago, and now her daughter? Her firstborn? The woman held on with the strength of a viper.

Why them?

“Why her?!” Mrs. Pierre bawled aloud, as if she had heard your thoughts.

“Wylynne has declared them sinners,” Mr. Kim said as if that served as a proper explanation for everything, “sinners on their way to salvation.”

Brooklyn’s parents pulled her into a hug and her eyes watered, voice raspy from the never ending shrieks.

You felt your own eyes begin to water, disbelief etched into every part of your face.

Some would say it was inevitable. 

Others would call it justice. 

You dubbed it cruelty.

Those same soldiers pried the teenagers away from their families, despite all of their efforts to fight. 

It was only when one solider started dragging Mrs. Pierre up to the podium with her daughter that Mr. Pierre dragged his wife back into the circle.

Her screaming matched the volume of her daughter’s.

Kim Moonsik sent a comforting look to the girls, laying his hand onto their head, and repeated his prayer of goodwill.

You covered your mouth with your hand, too shocked to even repeat the phrase along with everyone else.

Behind Mr. Kim, the entire time, none of his sons had moved. If they spoke or shifted their gaze, you could not see it due to their masks.

Brooklyn weakly reached her hand out to her best friend, shrieking even louder when, instead of her hand meeting skin, she was burned by the flame.

In nothing more than a few seconds, Brooklyn Hayes and Constance Pierre were reduced to ashes. Constance’s mother was still screaming, though the sound was slightly muffled by her husband’s hand. 

She seemed to have lost the strength to stand.

Mr. Kim smiled wistfully, and he watched the place where the two teenagers once kneeled. “To her heavenly grace, the moon, may they travel. To my fellow citizens of Ichabod, I bid goodnight.”

The Kims’ men doused the pyre and you stood frozen, watching the smoke curl upwards into the sky. Your mother had to wrap her arm around you and shove your head down from behind as everyone bowed in farewell to the Kims.

The youngest brother’s cloak disappeared as the family walked off into the trail of the woods specific to their home, and you were free to raise your head.

You lifted your skirts with one hand, grabbed your mother’s hand with the other, and bounded out of the clearing, back down the forest path.

Your mother wasn’t able to keep up with you and she slipped her hand out of yours, allowing you to fully pick up your dress and take off into the night.

You kept running, even when you made it out of the forest.

And you didn’t stop until you were in sight of your own front door.

Little did you know, you were not the only soul running in fear, in uncertainty, for your life that night.

——————————————————————

The sound of beating wings and rushing wind behind her only pushed Aemilia to go faster, despite the way her body ached.

The last thing Aemilia had seen was Namjoon’s glare, his hardened eyes resting above a mirthless smile.

The next time she woke, she found herself in some combination of an underground bunker and prison, chained to a bed.

Food would appear once a day, and no matter how much she screamed or rattled the chain, no one would appear.

That was, until today.

When Kim Jimin and his brothers appeared out of nowhere, she’d thought that they’d be able to help her.

Jimin had laid his hand on her chained leg, a sweet smile on his face.

She’d smiled back.

And then, before she could even ask him to unchain her, his grip on her leg tightened until she felt a tight, uncomfortable pinching.

She heard a sharp snap.

And then came the excruciating pain.

It hadn’t stopped there. 

In the past twenty four hours, Aemilia had experienced every form of torture her family’s officers had been trained in, and then some. 

Every time she was brought to the brink, she cried in relief, thinking it was finally over, only for them to yank her back from the edge of oblivion.

She had always known there was something special about the Kims, ever since she was a little girl, watching her parents quake in fear before Kim Moonsik and Kim Eunbyul.

It wasn’t until today that she could understand why.

Aemilia was so lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t seen the tree branch jutting out from the path. Her foot hit it and her body crashed into a muddy puddle.

She wanted to lie there and just wait for the end, but she had an incentive. One that she would never give up.

So she pushed herself up from the ground and kept on running.

“That’s all I have to do? Make it out of the forest?”

She narrowed her eyes at Namjoon, hope dimly glowing in her eyes. The boy smiled.

“Yes. If you’re able to avoid being caught and can make it out of the forest, we’ll set you free.”

“You might even get what it was you were searching for.”

After hearing those words leave his mouth, Aemilia had been filled with a determination unlike anything she had felt before.

This feeling was stronger than her urge to leave her parents, even stronger than her urge to destroy you.

This was her last chance.

She ducked with a scream as black, feathery wings sliced past her, unsettlingly close to her head.

She heard someone cackle at the sheer panic in her voice and the boy disappeared as fast as he’d arrived.

Aemilia wanted to pay more attention to where he was and what he was doing, but she got distracted when she saw moonlight peeking through the branches.

She was near the edge of the forest. She could feel it in her bones.

The trees were sparse and had no leaves, indicative of how far into the autumn season they’d already gotten. The ground slowly began to morph from wet, softened dirt to a hard, slippery concrete, telling her that she was nearing gravel or some type of road.

Several minutes later, just as she felt her chest was about to burst, she broke past the tree line and was greeted with the familiar sight of a cul-de-sac, houses and cars lining the street.

Aemilia’s heart leapt in excitement. 

She’d done it.

Everything you’ve ever wanted is right at your fingertips; just take one step closer.

She ran out into the middle of the road, desperate to reach the other side.

Just wait for the look on that bitch’s face, on everyone’s face, when you claim your rightful spot on your throne.

She was already picturing how she would turn back to the brothers with a victorious smirk, prepared to begin her reign.

Aemilia finally reached the sidewalk and, in her joy, fell backward onto the grass, ready to collapse from exhaustion.

But there was no feel of prickly, damp grass.

The ground disappeared from beneath her.

She shrieked as her heart sunk rapidly in her stomach, the wind stealing her voice and plugging her ears.

She was falling.

But how? Why?

And then, the picture-perfect image of suburban Ichabod steadily melted away.

There were no parked cars or houses. 

There were only foreboding, gray clouds.

A crumbling, decrepit cliff.

And still, icy waters.

Strawberry blonde locks glowed beneath the moonlight, the strands whipping around the Augustus princess’ face like some sort of demonic halo.

“Your parents are dead and gone, little sinner.” A voice close to her spoke and she whipped around, trying to catch them.

Kim Taehyung flew leisurely beside her, making no move to stop her descent. “And soon, you will be as well.”

“Though, there’s no need for you to worry,” Another voice sounded out, and this time she was met with the sickening, saccharine smile of Kim Jimin. His wings beat behind his back and when she tried to grab onto him, he darted out of reach. “I’m sure you’ll still get everything you wanted.”

“Wylynne will grant you all the freedom and royal positions you desire,” he sneered.

The brothers had never intended to spare her.

They’d tricked her.

Up until the very end, she was meant to lose.

Instead of the gratifying taste of victory, she found her mouth bitter with the taste of her own defeat.

After all, she was nothing like you.

With this final thought, Aemilia crashed into the waters. 

“Thus, the grand prestige and heritage of Ichabod’s Augustus family came to an end.”

Kim Jungkook giggled as his feet made contact with the ground, the gravel beneath them shifting slightly. He walked to the edge of Lorne’s Ledge, peering over the cliff at the girl as she fell to her own demise.

He looked up toward Jimin and Taehyung who hovered in the air, watching Aemilia as she fell into the depths. 

Her scream cut off with a large splash the moment she hit the water. They waited for any sign that the rat was still alive and kicking, but she didn’t seem to put up a fight. Long after the last of her air bubbles rose to the surface and the ripples in the water stilled, there was still no sign of her.

Her death was nothing more than a suicide, and even if it was investigated, which it wouldn’t be, her entire family were declared sinners and burnt to a crisp. 

No one in Ichabod would welcome her with open arms, much less feel any remorse for her loss.

Taehyung grinned at the sight, swooping around. “Ding dong, the witch is dead!” He cheered in excitement.

Jungkook laughed and leapt into the air, repeating the phrase with him.

Jimin hushed them, but even he couldn’t suppress the smile on his face.

“Come on,” he called out. “Let’s go tell our hyungs the good news.”

With three great flaps, the brothers quickly flew off, made it through and over the forest, and descended into town. 

——————————————————————

The elder Kim brothers were perched on the roof of a (house/apartment building) that was remotely close to yours.

Seokjin and Yoongi flew overhead, far away enough to have a private conversation but close enough that they could still hear any conversations being held below. Hoseok sat near the edge of the roof, one leg pulled into his chest and the other leg dangling over the side, while Namjoon stood behind him, jaw clenched in deep thought.

They had perched here after separating with the other three, waiting to see you enter your house safe and sound.

What they saw instead surprised and amused them as much as it concerned them.

From where they were, they saw your form, hoisting up your white dress in your arms and tearing down the avenue as if your life was in danger.

For a moment, they thought something had gone horribly wrong. That Aemilia had somehow escaped, and actually found you.

But it was nothing of the sort.

You simply ran from the woods, and you didn’t stop running until you reached your front steps.

Minutes later, your mother arrived and you dropped yourself into her arms in a hug. She kept her arm wrapped around you, supporting you until you were properly changed and back in bed, dead to the world for the night.

From their perch, they were able to peer inside of your room, and spent the rest of the time watching you as you slept.

Regrettably, you didn’t seem as though you were having a restful sleep. 

Every so often you twisted and turned, and your face would scrunch up in confusion.

They were distracted from your visage by the sound of wings flapping, and the youngest brothers joined the rest of their siblings.

Jimin landed first, wrapping his arms around Hoseok and hugging him from the back. 

“I trust that business was taken care of?” Hoseok asked as he turned to face Jimin, a relaxed, heart shaped grin on his face.

“Perfectly, hyung.” Jimin beamed back. “Taehyungie’s illusion worked wonders.”

The second youngest beamed with pride at having played a significant role in Aemilia’s downfall.

“In the end, you were right, hyung.” Jungkook said as he landed next to Namjoon. “She believed anything, just for the sake of her own pride and selfish desires.”

Overhead, Yoongi scoffed. “Are any of us surprised at that?”

“No,” Namjoon huffed out a laugh through his nose. “That’s exactly what we were counting on.”

“It’s funny, how pride works.” Seokjin stated, casting a pointed glance toward Namjoon.

The younger was silent, knowing better than to speak out at this moment.

“You know what they say,” Taehyung said as he lay down on his back, bringing his arms to rest underneath his head. “The meek shall inherit.”

For a moment, they breathed in the calm and quiet of the early morning, basking in their victory, enjoying the fact that they were one step closer to claiming their angel.

Unfortunately, the stillness of the early morning was rudely interrupted by yet another scream.

Rather than irritating them, however, this scream caused their blood to run cold.

For that harsh, awful wail, was yours.

——————————————————————

Every time you dream, you think that the vague, cursed images you lay subject to at night could not possibly get any worse.

And every time you dream, you prove yourself wrong.

There were several words you could have used to describe the being before you. Ephemeral. Hauntingly beautiful. Monstrously ethereal.

Yet when faced with said being, not one word came out of your mouth.

The figure’s skin was dark as night, a deep contrast to the blindingly white robe they wore, as well as the circle of rings that hovered above their head. 

As if the rings were not off putting enough, each ring had several eyes on it with flames streaking out the corners, and the figure had three pairs of wings extended from either side of them.

You peered up at them in frightened fascination.

Even without the circle of rings or the three pairs of wings, you could tell that the being before you was otherworldly.

They tilted their head at you, almost curious at your lack of recognition. 

You followed their gaze and peered down at yourself, where you sat on a large, throne-like wooden chair, downed in a white, ceremonial gown not unlike the one you wore in your last dream.

Though this time, it was free of any suspicious, red substances.

The figure righted their head, still and silent as ever. They extended a large hand to you, holding it out, flat, right before your seat.

You looked at the hand then back up at them as if asking permission.

They simply blinked.

You did as they wanted, carefully hopping down from your wooden seat into the palm of their hand.

You stumbled as you landed and sat in their palm, pulling your legs into your side.

Then, to your amazement, they lifted their free hand and waved it, and the air wrinkled as your surroundings proceeded to change.

The room around you shifted from that of the attic of a solitary, wooden cabin to a grand, golden hall.

Despite the dilapidated interior, the room shone. Columns lined with streaking arcs of gold and ivory decorated the halls, and the walls were made of sandstone. There were seats in the room, and it appeared as though they were carved out of stone as well.

It was shaped similarly to a courtroom, the panel of seats occupied by multiple figures.

Each figure varied in terms of skin color and height, but they all had two or more pairs of wings.

A figure sat upon an wooden chair erected in the middle of the grand hall, relatively small compared to those around them, with two pairs of white wings softly beating behind their back.

The tallest figure stood at the front of the room, a reflection of the one currently holding you.

If this was a courtroom, that must have been the defendant, and your figure was the judge.

No, this was not a courtroom.

It was a council.

You looked up at them, but they remained facing forward, eyes glued to the scene.

This must have been some sort of memory of theirs, you thought to yourself.

The figure on the chair was calm and relaxed, despite the fact that, as the conversation went on, the beings surrounding them seemed furious.

Their facial expressions morphed into those of anger and they would roughly beat their wings in varying levels of agreement or disapproval depending on what the council leader would say.

Still, the figure remained calm, a serene smile on their face, the feathers on their white wings rustled by the wind caused by those around them.

“You’re very powerful you know, and you possess a great wisdom beyond your years,” You jumped as a voice sounded out from above you.

When you looked up, the figure carrying you was looking back down at you again, but this time their mouth was pressed into a hard line.

You noted their words, feeling as though you’d heard them before.

Before you could reply, they continued, lifting their head to observe the scene before them once more. “It is because you possess that great wisdom, that one would think you’d know better than to let history repeat itself.”

You followed their gaze. 

The angry, beating, and rustling wings had lessened by a multitude. 

It appeared as though the council had come to a decision.

The council leader moved from their place at the front of the room, approaching the figure on the chair.

They smiled up at the figure, the way an innocent child would smile up at a stranger.

But for some reason, you felt as though the two were anything but. 

The council leader reached a large hand out to the smaller figure, wrapping it around their back. They smiled back at them.

Their hand gripped the base of their wings and tugged.

And this is the part of the dream where you were convinced you were experiencing a nightmare.

For the moment the figure starting tugging on the smaller person’s wings, the breath was knocked out of you and a searing pain burned through your shoulders, all the way down to your lower back.

They tugged harder, but the wings would not move.

And your pain would not go away.

It was only when you heard the sound of tearing flesh that you felt it.

Your skin was being ripped apart.

And you howled in agony.

——————————————————————

~taglist~

——————————————————————

Your eyes flashed open and you winced as you immediately wished they hadn’t.

Your head pounded, each thump forcing your eyes shut with the intensity, still not having recovered from the several hits it received. 

For a moment it felt as though you were still unconscious and drenched in darkness, as when you tried to get a glimpse of your surroundings, you only saw shadows and moving, ambiguous shapes. 

The movement of the ground beneath you, however, quickly dispelled such thoughts. 

It appeared as though you were being carried over someone’s shoulder. Despite the extra weight, the person you currently rested on was light and quick on their feet, moving with a speed that made you feel worse than you already were.

The familiar crunching of leaves and branches on the ground made your heart beat just a bit harder. 

According to their footsteps and what you could see of your surroundings, you surmised they had taken you to the forest.

It had been mid afternoon when Aemilia and the people who worked for her and her family accosted you at the roof. Now, there was barely a hint of the moon in your surroundings.

Did she intend to have her people tie you up to the wooden pyre and set you aflame, like some sick imitation of a witch burning at the stake? Or to make it seem as though the Kims had done it?

Despite how afraid of Mayor Kim the citizens were, there was no way everyone would believe you died in such a gaudy display. 

Only the purple fire that Mayor Kim was capable of conjuring left nothing behind, after all. If they were to going to get rid of you by fire, your remains would be found.

There’s no way you could ensure that, however. 

There’s no guarantee that Aemilia wouldn’t be able to make good on her promise and utterly destroy you.

A light cough broke the silence, bringing you back to the present, and you tried to calm your heartbeat. There’s no way your captors would believe you were asleep if you kept scaring yourself like this.

You felt a tight, scratchy material around your wrists and your hands laying against your back.

You successfully clenched your hands. So they hadn’t drugged you while you were out. 

You were hesitant to shift, as you feared your captors would notice your cognizant state, so you resorted yourself to blinking at the ground and gritting your teeth from the pain and nausea. 

Thankfully, the people you were with appeared to be none the wiser. 

“Are we almost there?” A deep voice, seemingly annoyed, huffed.

“Be patient, Lee.” You felt the vibrations of the person carrying you as they replied. “This isn’t just any other job.” 

“I understand, but don’t you think Miss Augustus is going too far?”

Your captor scoffed. “If you want to question the Augustuses, thereby questioning the Kims and their authority, be my guest. I just hope you and your family will be able to deal with the consequences.”

The second captor, Lee, had nothing else to say after that. 

The quiet of the forest left a buzzing in your ears and the swinging sensation your body was making whilst strewn over the person’s back became too much to bear. 

You figured you’d just make your captor angrier if you barfed down their back and tried to shift to draw their attention, but it was too late. 

The acrid taste of bile and what you had for lunch earlier that day reached your mouth and your lifted your head, spitting out as much of it as you could.

There was a yell of anger and disgust, and your captor shoved you off of them and onto the forest floor. 

You held back a shout as you hit the ground, injuring your side even further, and let out the rest of your meal.

“What the-?! This disgusting bitch!”

Your captor launched another kick at your stomach and you fought back tears as they aggravated the wounds already in place. 

Lee stopped them after a while, complaining that another round of beating would just delay their job even further. 

You wiped your mouth off on your shoulder and grimaced.

To your surprise, you found that you could move your legs.

The first captor lifted you to your feet by your collar, and you recognized him as Mr. Byun, the man the strawberry blonde had referred to earlier. 

“Your legs still work for a reason,” he sneered and pushed you forward.

Your legs did indeed work, but were wobbly after hours of no use. 

You tripped and almost fell to the floor again, the bonds around your wrists preventing you from reaching out to break your fall, when the second captor grabbed you by the back of your shirt and held you up. 

“I’m not really in the mood for any of your foolishness, girl.” Lee glowered down at you. “Use your legs properly, or I’ll break them and drag you by the hair. It would be all too easy.”

You heard a suspicious click and your eyes flickered over to Byun, whose hand rested on his waist. In the other, however, he fiddled with a small lever on what appeared to be a firearm.

“Do you understand?” The second captor shook you and your brain protested, rattling around far too much for its liking. 

The thought of escape, which had been curling up inside you like the beginning of a fire, was quickly extinguished. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

He pushed you away from him and you walked, following him with Byun at your back, trying to think of a way out of this situation.

You couldn’t tamper with the ropes around your wrist, as Byun was watching your every move. There was also the gun, and the fact that both men were trained in the use of it as well as martial arts.

Was there truly no way to escape?

——————————————————————

The three of you walked for what felt like hours, reaching a part of the woods that you had never seen before.

Here, the trees were sparse and had already lost all of their leaves. The dark branches coiled and twisted toward the sky, as if reaching for affection that would never be reciprocated. The stumps were old, the ground hard.

And then, a clearing. But not the one you were used to seeing.

Your heart dropped as you walked between two trees, noticing the view beyond them. 

You could now tell that it was well after midnight, for the sun was nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, as always, the moon was high in the sky. 

Wylynne gazed down on the clearing with a force, as if the moon goddess wanted you to see bright and clear what awaited you.

The crumbling cliff before you overlooked a tranquil lake. Clouds hung in the distance, obscuring what was undoubtedly the outside world.

The outside of Ichabod.

Such tranquility had no business here, you thought to yourself as the pace of your breathing increased. 

Your captors had brought you to Lorne’s Ledge, also known as the edge of no return.

It was forbidden territory for any Ichabodian citizen.

Even before Mayor Kim came to town, even before the Augustus family had their reign: this was one of the oldest, most sacred spots in Ichabod.

The lady of the cliff, Lorne, saw to it that the forsaken never returned home.

You shuddered. The folklore didn’t scare you in the slightest. It would always be the work of man that you detested. 

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel some foreign, oppressive gaze resting on you now that you were here. As if Lorne herself were staring at you, waiting for you to join her in the watery depths--

That familiar click sounded again and your eyes shot to the side. You tried to slowly turn around, but the press of metal against your back forced you to stop all movement.

Lee smirked. “We have arrived at your final destination, my lady.”

“Miss Augustus was generous enough to leave you with two options. You can walk off and take a nice rest in the lake, or you can die before your body ever hits the water.” The man smiled mirthlessly down at you. “Which would you prefer?”

You blinked rapidly, mind racing. Even if you were capable of swimming, with these injuries, you wouldn’t be able to survive the fall off the ledge, 

They truly meant for you to die.

Lee didn’t seem to be in the mood for your deliberation as his cruel smile slipped into an infuriated frown. “Choose.” He growled. “My friend here would be all too happy to make the choice for you. How does a bullet in your brain and being rolled off the cliff sound?”

Byun dug the weapon into your skin and you winced, shaking your head. 

“I’ll-I’ll go. I’ll walk myself.”

Your voice cracked horribly after not speaking for so many hours, but the message was received. 

The metal was removed from your backside and you sighed in relief.

The man in front of you said nothing, simply stepping out of your path. 

You took a couple more breaths and slowly turned to face him. “C-Can I ask you to do something? As a final request.”

He raised an eyebrow at you in response.

You titled your head in the direction of your back. “Can you untie my hands? After I disappear, there might be a search for me, and someone might try to dig through the lake for my body. A suicide will be completely ruled out if they find the ropes.”

There was no way this would work. Even the Augustuses were too intimidated to bother touching the lake for fear of Lorne’s wrath. 

Besides, the police knew when and where to look, and where to say they looked. They would lie to your friends and family through their teeth.

Lee must not have been on the force for very long, however, because he grunted and pulled your hands to him. 

With a slice, the ropes fell to the ground and you clutched your wrists to your chest, nodding partly in thanks and partly in disbelief.

It...worked.

You rubbed your hands together and gently blew on them, fingers numb from the cold breeze. 

Your captors stood together between the trees, blocking the entrance. They murmured quietly to themselves and you continued to morph your face and body expressions into one of a pitiful teenager about to die, concealing the rather reckless thoughts you were having.

You finally turned around and walked back until you were in front of them, catching the two men off guard. They quieted and stared at you, hands at their weapons. 

You met each of them in the eye and bowed, lower than you ever had before, then stood upright.

They looked at you incredulously, giving you just enough time to give Lee a harsh kick between his legs and pry the knife out of his hand.

You slashed at his neck, adrenaline returning full force, and actually managed to cut the man. 

He shouted in pain and brought a hand up to the wound, trying to stop the blood.

Before you could turn to face Byun, however, the loud crack of a gunshot was heard throughout the forest and you felt a painful sting on your hand. 

You yelped as you dropped the knife.

Then, there was a second gunshot and the pain returned full force, this time on your shoulder.

The elder captor, completely fed up with your actions, slammed the gun against your head and you crumpled to the ground. 

You could feel something wet on your hand and clothes, but there was too much of it to be sweat in the midnight chill. You slowly lifted your hand, only to see it covered in a dark liquid.

Byun restrained Lee from attempting to beat you this time, barely casting a glance at your pitiful form. 

“Calm yourself. She won’t be alive for much longer.” He gruffed. “She said she would walk herself, so walk she will. We’re just here to watch and make sure it happens.”

He stood over your form and pointed the gun at your head. “What a useless attempt. Get up.”

Your shoulder and hand burned like hell, but you complied. 

You got to your feet once more and stumbled forward, every step taking you further and further away from the two. 

The barrel of the gun followed your every move.

The tears you’d been struggling to hold back ran full force now at the thought of your imminent death. But rather than let your captors feast upon the sight of your defeated form, you stopped.

You were covered in blood. Your uniform was sullied by your own vomit and dirt. 

But you straightened your back, ignoring the pain in your shoulder, and held your head up high. 

You had reached the edge of the cliff now, but your vision was too blurry to see anything besides the vast blue beneath you. 

The lake that rested below had no warmth or safety to provide for you, but neither did the forest behind you.

You considered praying to Wylynne to see if, in all her majesty and grace, she would save you.

Yet clearly, just like all the people who had come before you, just like the lady of the lake herself, the moon goddess had forsaken you.

You were tired. Too tired to fight against what some would call fate.

You whispered an apology to your mother and Mana, and perhaps even to the brothers, the reason why, you did not know.

Your eyes captured the overcast image of the outside world one last time, then you turned around and took a backward step off the cliff with a sad smile, eyes falling closed, mentally locked on that solitary picture.

Above you, you thought you heard the pained screams and grunts of your captors, sounding as though they were struggling against something or someone. 

But before you, you saw your mother with her arms outstretched, that patient, loving smile on her face. 

You reached forward, wrapped your arms around her, and readily slipped into darkness.

Above your falling form, a shadow zipped through the dawn, racing to reach you before you hit the water. 

He saw you smile and lift an arm into the air, before the smile slipped off your face and your limbs went limp.

The large, black wings at his back beat furiously and he flew faster than he ever had before until he had your beaten form cradled to his chest. 

The two of you suddenly shot upward into the air as your descent slowed, and as the first rays of daylight peeked out from above the clouds, his form hung in the air, almost frozen in time, black wings outstretched and supporting the two of you as he floated above Lorne’s Ledge. 

Kim Jimin hovered, adorned in the light of the early morning sun, peering callously down at the vermin who lay trembling between him and his brothers. 

Or what was left of them, at least.

Jungkook had managed to get his hands on the elder one, and the arm he had been using to carry the gun had been ripped clean off. 

He was now whimpering in excruciating pain, clutching at the place where his limb had once been.

The younger one, on the other hand, lay resting against a tree. 

Unmoving, his eyes unseeing. 

All it had taken was one touch from Hoseok, and the man’s life force was gone, sucked out of him before he could even protest.

He was now nothing more than a lifeless sack of meat.

Taehyung picked up the body as Yoongi kicked one of the elder’s legs to get his attention.

The others stood threateningly over Byun, glowering down at him in utter loathe, as though he were a louse.

The old man whimpered, looking up and between them, then paling in horror as he saw Taehyung and Jimin.

The younger brother walked toward the elder as Jimin gently touched down on the ground, your form still protectively pressed to him. The two Kims met eyes and nodded at each other.

Taehyung turned around and flashed Mr. Byun a crazed smile before flinging Lee’s body as far as he could over the cliff.

He gaped in horror and his voice rose multiple decibels, pleads for his life escaping before he could properly think them through.

Seokjin squatted down until he was at an eye level with him, strong, black wings threateningly displayed. He grinned. 

“If you think you have even any hope of escaping your friend’s fate,” he said as the smile slipped off his face, “you’re dead wrong.”

He glared at Byun with cold, amber irises. “But before we end your insignificant, paltry life, you’re going to tell us who sent you and why.”

They already had proof of Aemilia’s crime from Aloysius Augustus himself but they wanted to be sure.

He looked at the younger gentlemen with tears in his eyes. He fought through his pain and got on both knees.

“There’s no use in begging,” Namjoon stated, arms crossed over his chest. For the first time, he couldn’t find anything amusing in the matter.

“Please! We were only receiving orders, Miss Augustus--”

Before he could finish his sentence, Yoongi used Lee’s discarded knife and slashed it across Byun’s neck, silencing him in an instant. 

The light left his eyes and the man’s body flopped over.

Taehyung didn’t think twice about kicking him off the cliff, either.

Now that those pests were taken care of, the seven rushed to turn their attention on you. 

The bleeding from your shoulder and hand had not slowed in the slightest, and they could hardly feel your pulse.

“We need to get her to the hospital, and fast.” Hoseok said, swallowing the rising lump in his throat.

“I’m the fastest. I can take her there.” Taehyung volunteered.

The brothers agreed, and you were gently deposited into Taehyung’s arms. 

“When you’re sure she’s safe, meet us back here in the woods,” Yoongi said. “You’ll know where to find us.”

"Yes, hyung.” Taehyung spread his wings and took off into the sky.

He carefully cradled you, shifting your body into one of his arms, and attempted to heal some of your worse injuries along the way.

He pressed one hand to your abdomen and began muttering under his breath, a panicked tear slipping out the corner of his eye as he peered at the extent of the damage.

Once your ribs were mostly healed, he pulled his hand away, leaving behind a canvas of dark blue, yellow, and green bruises. He winced and moved on, pressing his hand to your head.

You made no movements, body as limp as ever in his arms. 

Taehyung touched down on the roof of the hospital and tucked those magnificent, black wings together, the appendages fading away as if they were never there. 

He held his arm out, his palm facing the door. He only meant to unlock it, but utterly destroyed it in his haste. Quite frankly, he couldn’t have cared less. 

He hurriedly walked down the stairwell and burst into the hospital’s eleventh floor lobby, reserved for VIP care and treatment. 

A receptionist was working at the front desk, typing away without a care in the world.

He was interrupted by Taehyung’s shouts. “I found her in the woods outside of our home this morning--she’s badly injured, please help!”

He looked up at the boy’s outburst, eyes widening when he realized just who and what he was looking at.

He immediately called for available nurses to bring a bed and admit you to a room, then paged any available doctors.

“Do you know who she is, Mr. Kim?” A nurse asked as she examined you for damage.

He nodded. “She’s a classmate of mine, her name is (Y/N) (L/N). Her mother also works here--please notify her of her daughter’s arrival.”

The man nodded once more, sending someone else to page Nurse (L/N) from the fifth floor.

As the nurses wheeled you away, Taehyung grabbed the receptionist by the wrist and he whipped around in fear.

“This patient is very important,” Taehyung stressed, squeezing the man’s wrist harshly. “She is being admitted under the protection of Kim Moonsik himself, at the behest of our entire family. If anything happens to her...”

The receptionist gulped and nodded. “Of course, Mr. Kim. You don’t need to explain any further. We’ll do our absolute best to ensure her care and recovery.”

Taehyung glared down at him for a bit longer before he threw the man’s wrist aside and turned away from him. 

He rubbed at his wrist, knowing it would bruise in a couple of hours, or perhaps even minutes.

The man returned to his desk, beginning to fill out the paperwork for your stay. 

When he looked up to ask Taehyung more questions about your injuries, the boy had already disappeared.

——————————————————————

In Taehyung’s absence, the six brothers stretched out their wings and flew to a certain section of the woods behind the Kim family home. 

This part of the woods remained untouched by both the Kim family and the general public. It was only the seven who came out here, and only in times of dire consequence. 

Several trees in the area had fallen over, cracked in half as though hit or pushed in anger with some spectacular force.

Leaves and branches strewn all over the ground were blown away by the boys and the sudden breeze they brought, large wings disrupting the peaceful quiet of the forest.

The early morning sun peeked through the leaves, painting a picturesque view of the woods, a sharp contrast to the heavy, violent atmosphere headed its way.

Jungkook planted his feet on the ground first, tucking away his wings until they were out of sight. He angrily flicked what was left of Byun off his face, disgusted by the thick feel and metallic smell of mortal blood. 

Jimin followed right behind him, then Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin entered, Namjoon being the last to touch down on the forest floor.

Jimin and Jungkook met eyes with one another, their anger not even close to subsiding at the death of your captors. 

Yet, soon enough, curiosity and dread brought them out of their rage when they realized just how quiet it had gotten between the older members.

Jimin shifted his gaze, the frown on his face deepening when he saw the eldest brothers’ attention turn to Namjoon, who was standing deathly still, staring blankly ahead.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow as he glared down at the younger. Namjoon refused to meet his gaze.

The six of them stayed like that for a long time, even when they heard the loud beating of another pair of wings, and Taehyung joined them in the forest.

He turned to Jimin in confusion but the older simply shook his head and grabbed for his and Jungkook’s hands, squeezing them. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, Seokjin spoke. 

“There is no mercy for the prideful,” he stated with finality.

Namjoon flinched away at the words, eyes stuck to the ground.

“You weren’t able to uphold your oath, Namjoon ah,” Hoseok said. His words were concerned, but his tone reeked of condescension.

“And because of that, because of your utter failure, our beloved angel got hurt.” Yoongi hissed. “She almost died.”

Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin took menacing steps toward the leader. 

He heard his older brothers walking up to him, but refused to meet the wrath that was surely boiling in their gaze.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook watched on with bated breath, their hands still linked together.

Namjoon was frozen in place. 

As the leader of their group, there was rarely ever a moment where he was seen as weak. 

But the second he had received news of your capture, he lost even the strength to stand on his own two feet.

It was the thought of you, of saving you and bringing you to safety, that had kept him going. 

It was the only thing that had kept all seven of them sane.

Now that they knew you were going to live, he knew he couldn’t avoid his punishment any longer.

Namjoon’s facial expression didn’t change, even in the moment where, with surprising speed, Yoongi lashed out at him, decking him in the face and knocking him to the forest floor.

The student body president winced, gingerly gripping his nose as blood started to leak from it.

His older brothers stood, looking down at him in a mock semicircle.

“Yoongi ah,” Seokjin said, turning to the younger, “what is the punishment for those who commit the deadly sin of pride?”

“Being broken on the wheel, hyung.” Yoongi replied impassively. 

“Fortunately for you, or unfortunately, I should say,” Hoseok grinned down at Namjoon, “we don’t have a wheel.”

Seokjin stepped forward and lifted his foot above Namjoon’s right leg. 

“This is what happens when you place too much pride in yourself and in your actions.” He stated, then brought his foot down on Namjoon’s right leg.

He didn’t let up until there was a sick, audible crack. 

Namjoon reeled back, grunting in pain but refusing to scream. 

Yes, it hurt, but he knew he deserved it. He failed (Y/N). 

This is the least he could do to atone for his actions.

“All things considered, we’re being quite generous with you.” Yoongi stepped up next, kicking his broken leg aside to stomp down on his left one.

This time, Namjoon let out a jarring scream. 

“You still have the audacity to scream? To feel pain?” Yoongi ground his foot into the injury as though he were trying to put out a cigarette. “Imagine how much pain our beloved is in right now. Imagine what she wouldn’t have had to go through, had you done your job properly. Had you listened to us.”

The elder had never been kind or considerate when it came to delivering punishment, a fact that the younger brothers had quickly become accustomed to.

Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook looked on blankly, but inside they felt a deep sense of pity. 

Namjoon was their brother and their leader, the constant face of their strength.

It hurt to see him in so much pain, no matter how necessary it was. 

Namjoon sat on the forest floor, both legs twisted at an awkward angle. He grit his teeth together as he tried to control his breathing. 

He noticed no one else was approaching him, but he knew that the punishment wasn’t over yet, not so soon. He slowly, inquisitively lifted his head.

The eldest three looked at Namjoon expectedly. He pleadingly raised his eyebrows, but their stares held no mercy.

He bowed his head in defeat. 

The senior wrapped his right hand around his left forearm and squeezed until he heard something crack. 

There was the quick, soft sound of a sob coming out of his mouth, and then all was quiet. 

Hoseok went last, shuffling through the leaves on the forest floor to squat next to his younger brother, wiping away some of his tears and gently running his fingers through his hair. “We’re doing this for her. Everything we do is for her, you know that as well as we do.”

Namjoon glanced at him warily, tense because he knew what was coming next, but didn’t know when to expect it. 

“That’s why you’re prepared to face the consequences for your actions, yes...?”

With a sickeningly sweet smile, Hoseok wrapped his hands around Namjoon’s right forearm, breaking the bone in a quick moment.

Namjoon clenched his teeth together so hard, he swore he heard something else crack. 

Any movement within the top or lower half of his body left him in excruciating pain, and he stifled a scream each time.

“You did so well, Joonie.” Hoseok continued patting his head. 

They surrounded him, praising him with how well he took his punishment. 

He was only able to withstand a few more minutes of cognizant thought before his eyes rolled back into his head.

Hoseok caught his younger brother, gently laying him back onto the dirt.

The six men stood in the silence, staring at the form of their treasured leader with pity. 

Seokjin turned around and met each of his younger brothers in the eye. He then wordlessly walked away from the clearing and Namjoon’s broken body.

Yoongi and Hoseok followed him, blank expressions on their face.

The youngest brothers were all too quick to pick up on the message. 

Overstep your boundaries, and endure the same fate. 

After taking one more look at Namjoon, the youngest brothers trekked out of the forest, silently following behind the other angels.

——————————————————————

When you finally pried your eyes open, you were greeted by an unfamiliar chill.

You were cold. So cold, the chill settled uncomfortably in your bones.

White blankets were tucked around you, pristine sheets morphing to mimic your form. 

For a moment, you incredulously thought that this must have been your arrival to heaven.

Then, you soon heard a monotonous beeping and you felt the subtle prick of wires along your skin, an IV casually grazing across the back of your hand. 

It hurt to move your right shoulder, and your abdomen ached, the areas bandaged so tight you could just barely feel them. 

There were bandages around your wrists and hand as well, and the pungent scent of ointment told you those were for your rope burns and bullet graze. 

Your head injuries were also wrapped, if you deduced the source of your current headache correctly. 

You were alive. Alive, and well taken care of.

“(Y/N)?”

You winced, your head not taking too kindly to the reintroduction of noise. A swivel to your right, however, and your mother’s worried face appeared.

“...Mom?” You voice cracked horribly, and she smiled and hummed in acknowledgement, lifting a water pitcher next to her and pouring you a glass of water.

You drank as if you were Tantalus himself.

“I was so worried.” your mother stated, her voice breaking right along with yours. The sound alone nearly brought tears to your eyes. 

She lifted her hands and grasped your uninjured one, intertwining your fingers.

 “I got paged yesterday morning and asked to come up to the eleventh floor, just to find out that you had been admitted.” Your mother spoke, answering your questions before you even got the chance to ask. “And at the request of the entire Kim family, no less. Kim Taehyung brought you in himself, claiming you’d been assaulted and found outside their door.”

You tilted your head, peering at your mother in disbelief. 

She met your gaze and flicked her eyes toward the door, then back towards you without turning around. You followed their direction.

Outside the small, rectangular window of the door, there stood a tall figure dressed in dark clothing.

Your mother leaned toward you and whispered. “That woman has been standing guard since the doctors finished their checkup.”

You gulped and nodded in understanding.

“(Y/N).” Her tone shifted slightly, still holding concern but taking a solemn turn. “I never ask you questions about how school is and your life is going. We usually leave each other to our own devices, and that’s clearly been a mistake on my part. But I need you to be completely honest with me here.”

“Have you displeased the Kims in any way?” Her grip on your uninjured hand tightened to the point where all of your knuckles turned white. “If they have you here under some sort of watch until the next meeting...if they’re trying to...” 

Your mother gulped, unable to finish the rest of the sentence. 

Her voice lowered into a harsh whisper. “Tell me. I’ll go alert a trustworthy coworker, and I will have you out of this town before Kim Moonsik can utter another prayer.”

Your eyes widened comically. “Mom, no! Nothing like that happened. They saved me. The Kims saved my life.” You repeated, gripping her hands. “If they hadn’t brought me here, I would have-” 

The weight of your words finally hit you, and before you could realize, tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. “I could have...”

You fought to speak through the trembling of your lower lip. “I’m sorry I never told you about my day, I just thought I’d be able to handle it all by myself. The police commissioner’s daughter, she was trying to get rid of me and she-Mom, she-”

Your mother cupped your cheeks as your tears cascaded down your face. She gently rubbed your lower back as you muffled your cries by burying your head into her neck.

She didn’t let you go for a while, even after you managed to collect yourself. 

She poured you another glass of water and you sipped at the beverage, telling her the trials you’d faced these past couple of weeks.

“I thought it was a regular instance of bullying,” you sniffled, putting the plastic cup down. “that she didn’t want me getting too close to her crush. So I endured because I had no intention of taking anything of hers away. Who am I, in Ichabod, compared to a woman of prestige like that?” You sarcastically asked.

“But apparently, my mere existence bothered her.” You shakily recounted what had ultimately been the most terrifying moments of your life to your mother. 

You obscured some parts of the story, not wanting your mother to worry even more, and claimed that the Augustus’ men had taken you to the clearing to scare you and beat you up, and that you surmised they dropped you off outside of the Kim home afterward. 

By the time she finished hearing the whole story, her grip had embedded itself into the edge of the hospital bed. 

Your mother’s vexation was interrupted by the sound of people speaking outside your door.

“Ma’am, I apologize. By the order of Kim Moonsik, only family members are allowed to visit the patient right now.” The figure outside your door spoke with an uninterested tone.

“With all due respect, officer, please don’t assume my gender.” You heard a familiar voice snipe. “My best friend is lying in there and she’s practically a sister to me. I don’t particularly give a damn about your order. Kim Moonsik can kiss my-”

“Mana!” You yelled, trying to catch both of their attention before your best friend could get themselves arrested. 

You flipped the hospital blankets off of you and your mother helped you to your feet, then to the door. The injuries on your abdomen and head protested with every step.

The guard’s eyes widened a bit as you slid the door open, and so did the eyes of every hospital staff within sight of your room. 

“Ms. (L/N), I implore you, please go back to bed to rest!” A nurse in the hallway rushed over. 

The guard hastily nodded in agreement. “Yes, please do. I sincerely apologize for the commotion.”

You waved them off, reaching a hand out to Mana. “I'll go back to bed, but only if you let Mana in. They’re family.”

Mana stood in the hallway, hurriedly dressed in sweatpants, a disheveled oversized hoodie, and sneakers, but gingerly holding a teddy bear with a card.

The guard looked between you, Mana, and the nurse for quite some time. The nurse’s frantic expression must have convinced her, though, because she finally stepped aside.

Mana extended their arm, gently grabbing your hand in return and waltzing past the security guard with a smug expression. 

The moment the three of you were back in the room, however, they ushered you back to bed as well.

“(N/N)!” Mana said, going to hug you, then rethinking it when they spotted all the bandages. 

They placed the teddy bear in your arms and stood a card that cheerily read “Get Well Soon!” on your nightstand. “How are you feeling? I’m so sorry--I should have been there with you!”

“My head and chest hurt, but I’m alright.” You shook your head with a small smile, clutching the doll to your chest. “Don’t apologize, you had no idea this was going to happen. This was all the result of my stupid decision--I was the one who fell into her trap.”

Your mother excused herself, leaving you and Mana alone for a few minutes.

You filled them in on what had happened to you, withholding no details, and their face lit up in anger. “She ordered them to take you to Lorne’s Ledge?! That psychotic cunt! Just wait until I drag her across the square, we’ll see how high and mighty she is then-”

“Mana, calm down.” You smiled, thankful for your friend’s protectiveness, but weary after everything you’d just gone through. 

“I never want to stoop to her level,” you admitted, wringing the sheets in your hands. 

Your mother gently slid open the door, returning with water and a tray of food for you.

“I think...I’ve had enough of mind games and tricks for a while.” You whispered, then smiled at her as she lay the meal in front of you.

Mana’s gaze turned soft, and they patted your hands and back in support. 

“I don’t even want to think of what would have happened if the Kims hadn’t gotten there in time.” your mother muttered. 

You nodded in agreement. 

You weren’t particularly sure how or why, but the Kims had saved your life. 

Not only had they offered you some of the best care in the city, free of charge, but they even stationed people outside your room.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, something told you that holding them with such a mindset would put you exactly where they wanted you to be. 

Yet something else countered that thought, claiming that it was that same distancing mindset that had pushed you into the arms of danger in the first place. 

Perhaps Mayor Kim felt responsible for it because his men got usurped by a high school girl.

Or, perhaps, it was his sons who felt even more responsible.

Your mother and Mana stayed with you the rest of the night, each taking up their own positions on the furniture. Mana draped themself on the couch while your mother took the armchair.

You allowed yourself to drift off to the sound of them breathing, the chill and fear of the previous morning now a distant, foreign thing.

——————————————————————

Your mother and Mana weren’t constantly at your side, as one had to attend to her duties at work and the other had to go to school. 

There were other individuals who were perfectly happy to waste the day with you, though.

On the first day, you were visited by Jimin.

The sophomore’s usual high-energy self was nowhere to be seen as he stepped into your hospital room holding a small bouquet of (your favorite flowers). 

Jimin rushed at you, barely giving himself enough time to greet him before he fell to his knees in front of your hospital bed. 

You gasped aloud in surprise and urged him to stand, but he would have none of it. 

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” His eyes glistened as water streaked down his cherubic face. “If I had read your message earlier, if I hadn’t been so stupid to turn my phone off, you never would have gotten hurt like this.”

You winced as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, your hand only hurting slightly less than it had before. “You didn’t know at the time, I wouldn’t blame you for that. When you did know, you rushed to help me. That’s something I will be forever grateful to you for.” 

You exhaled and smiled your rare, genuine smile, a warm countenance on your face that pierced Jimin’s soul. “So please,” you held your hand out to Jimin.

The boy looked up, pitiful expression morphing into a delighted smile. He gently took your hand and stood, then ushered you to rest comfortably back at the top of the bed. 

The two of you spent the rest of the day talking, Jimin distracting you from your current situation with stories about his family and their travels. 

By the time you realized you’d never gotten answers to your questions, the sun was starting to set and you were having trouble keeping your eyes open in the middle of Jimin’s conversation.

If the raven haired boy had noticed it, he didn’t say anything. 

If anything, he continued speaking, his voice low and chiming with laughter as he recounted precious memories.

When he heard the familiar sound of your soft, slow breathing, he stopped. He simply gazed upon your visage, smiling at the way your (s/c) skin lit up in the afternoon sun and held a hand up to block the light from getting in your eyes.

He stayed that way for the next several minutes, then gently caressed your cheek, letting his hands linger for shorter than he would have liked.

Once the night was well underway, Jimin collected his things and left your side with one more forlorn look.

He shot a strict gaze at the guard, who gulped and nodded at the unspoken order.

Finally, he turned and walked down the hallway toward the elevators. 

——————————————————————

On the second day, you were visited by Taehyung. You were still asleep when he first came into the room, but your mother was sitting beside you and her eyes widened when she saw him.

Before the younger boy could even speak, the older woman bowed low in gratitude.

Few people had ever seen your mother in a vulnerable state, you included, as she purposefully made it so. 

Taehyung was a rare exception that day as he gently gripped her shoulders, feeling the slight trembles that coursed through her as he straightened her posture. 

Suppressing an amused smile, Taehyung thought of the differences between you and his supposed mother. 

While the actress trembled out of fear for her own life, your mother shook at the thought of losing you.

As expected from the woman who raised you, their perfect treasure.

“I can never repay you for the hospitality you’ve shown my daughter,” your mother whispered.

“There’s no need for such matters, Ms. (L/N). We’ll always protect and watch out for your daughter. We’re honored to have her in our lives.” Taehyung replied with a sincere tone.

She accepted the flowers he brought, carefully laying the bouquet on your nightstand, right next to the vase where Jimin’s flowers lay. 

When you did wake up, you had your own chance to thank Taehyung for finding you and bringing you to safety, along with sponsoring your stay in the hospital. 

He waved away your thanks, claiming that he was simply glad that you had turned to Jimin for assistance so that they were able to know about it.

“You know we’ll always be there for you, right (Y/N)?”

Always.

“Just say the word and we’ll come running.”

We love you.

His heart ached with the weight of the words he couldn’t say.

But you smiled in appreciation and he melted, as it was the smile they had longed to see for so long. The one that you usually reserved for your mother or Mana, the one that they had only gotten glimpses of in the time that they had known you.

He wouldn’t let you do anything for yourself the entire time, claiming you needed to rest up and heal as soon as possible. You reluctantly agreed, enjoying an unusually lazy day.

He played music for you, and soon enough the two of you were lost in a passionate conversation about your favorite artists. Funnily enough, there were several of them who you shared interest in.

Before Taehyung returned home for the day, he insisted on covering you with the blanket as well, tucking it up to your neck and pressing it in at the sides.

Your eyes were closed out of embarrassment as his form hung over yours. 

He fought the urge to bend down and kiss your forehead, for he still feared that he could frighten you away.

Instead, he reached up and switched off the light directly above your bed. With an ambiguous smile, he left, closing the door behind him.

——————————————————————

On the third day, you were visited by Jungkook.

The atmosphere was a little awkward at first, considering how soft-spoken the freshman tended to be around you.

When you tried shifting the conversation by asking him about his personal interests and passions, however, his eyes lit up.

Jungkook demonstrated several different types of punches for you in the room, even helping you weakly set up your form with your still healing hands. 

You learned much more about boxing forms and gaming techniques that day than you could ever remember, but you did leave with plans to have private self-defense lessons with Jungkook after you’d finished healing.

At some point during his visit, you had drifted off and by the time you woke up again, Jungkook was already gone. 

You panicked slightly, worried that he’d be upset and think that you wanted him to leave. As you turned to your phone, however, you noticed a folded piece of paper resting on top of the back of it.

When you opened the paper, you saw a beautiful pen-and-ink sketch of you, lying in your hospital bed and napping. 

Jungkook had somehow taken your messy, disheveled state and turned it into something that evoked a tender feeling within you.

You grinned down at the paper, amazed by his talent. Was this how he saw you? As this...ephemeral, peaceful being?

You gently stood the paper up so that it rested between the two vases that housed Jimin and Taehyung’s flowers, right next to Mana’s card.

The afternoon soon gave way to evening, then evening to night.

——————————————————————

On the fourth day, Seokjin saved you from the monotony of bland, hospital food by bringing you home cooked meals. 

The mere smell of the dishes had your mouth watering. 

He refused to let you do anything yourself, much like Taehyung had the other day. But unlike Taehyung, Jin went so far as to feed you himself.

It was embarrassing, but no matter how much you protested, he wouldn’t let up.

He sat in the chair your mother usually preoccupied and held the utensils out to you, neatly making sure you finished your meals.

At one point, he pretended the food was an airplane and you playfully slapped his arm, resulting in him dissolving into a surprising windshield-wiper-like laugh. 

Jin spent the rest of the day with you, telling you awful jokes that under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have found that funny. 

His companionship was greatly appreciated, however, and you found that you grew surprisingly fond of his laugh.

Before Jin left for the evening, he gently lifted your hand and placed it in his lap, then revealed another bag he’d brought on his visit.

To your surprise, he clipped a small (silver/gold/rose gold) bracelet around your wrist. The ornament carried two charms: one of a well-detailed moon, the other a pair of angel wings.

You rushed to have him take the bracelet off, hesitant to accept such a valuable gift. 

Yet the look in his eyes pierced right through you, his previous joy still present and glimmering but hidden beneath the depths of something more sinister.

You leaned against your pillows as Jin gently lifted the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it, just like he had the first night you met. 

“The moment I saw it, I thought of you.” He smiled, affectionately rubbing his thumb over your wrist. “Keep it. For me?”

It wasn’t a request.

——————————————————————

On the fifth day, you were visited by Hoseok and Yoongi.

You were slightly surprised at the fact that they had come together, as their outer attitudes seemed to be opposites, but you found that they complemented each other very well. 

They were extremely considerate of you, allowing you to do things for yourself but offering their assistance should you need it. 

Hoseok spent the day cheering you up by performing routines for you in the little space the room provided.

As strict as he was infamous for being, Hoseok clearly knew his craft. You were mesmerized by his movements and insisted on clapping for each of his performances, your hand healing quite nicely now.

Yoongi delighted you with tales of his rambunctious actions in high school, and some of the best well-kept faculty secrets.

There were several things you learned about Ms. Divii and Mrs. Hargrove that day that you would have been perfectly happy not knowing for the rest of your life, but you giggled and gossiped all the same.

It appeared as though the elder Kim brothers had a similar thought process, as Hoseok and Yoongi each gifted you (silver/gold/rose gold) jewelry similar to what you had received the day prior.

Hoseok looked as though we was going to cry when you went to turn down his gift.

One sharp look from Yoongi later, you closed your mouth, smiled, and expressed your thanks.

Hoseok fondly clipped the necklace onto you, his heart performing somersaults as you leaned into his embrace. 

He silently gulped, overcome by the sudden desire to press his lips to your neck. 

When he made eye contact with Yoongi over your shoulder, his face reddened slightly as the elder smirked at him.

He reigned in the perceptible want in his eyes and leaned back, flashing you his signature smile. “There you are, angel. Pretty as a picture.”

You lowered your head to hide your flush. “You guys really don’t have to bring me these gifts,” you murmured lightly. 

“With a visage as perfect as yours, we simply can’t help ourselves.” Yoongi stated in reply, lifting your ring finger to slide a band onto it. 

How unfortunate it was that it was the right hand instead of the left.

He was able to hide his disappointment from you, but not from Hoseok. 

Nevertheless, there would surely be an opportunity in the near future.

How else would all of those worthless people know that you belonged to them?

——————————————————————

On the sixth day, Namjoon limped his way into your hospital room, a grimace on his face. 

You greeted him with a warm smile that quickly shifted into a worried expression. “Oh goodness, are you alright?”

Namjoon nodded, taking the seat next to your bed. “I injured my leg, it’s nothing serious. I should be perfectly alright soon.”

Seokjin had been kind enough to heal most of his limbs, the elder worried about your reaction to seeing him in such a state. 

They purposefully made him wait in agonizing pain for nearly a week, however, to rub the punishment in, before clearing him to go visit you. 

It seemed as though the student body president had lost his usual self-assured, constantly amused atmosphere. He was strangely quiet, and his body language was similar to that of a man who’d been beaten into submission. 

That was far from the Kim Namjoon you knew.

For several moments, the two of you sat in awkward silence.

The two of you hadn’t been on the best of terms the last time you spoke. Just thinking back to that moment when he’d felt like he was on top of the world, completely in control, made him cringe. 

Then, you turned and smiled at him. “You know, if you really need to, you could always join me as a patient. It’d definitely make the days less boring.”

Namjoon knew you knew there was a change in his attitude, and rather than lording that over him, you simply welcomed him as you usually did.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” The words blurt out before he could stop them.

You shook your head, slightly amused. “What’s with you and Jimin these days? You don’t need to apologize for saving me. Unless you want to, and, well, that’s a completely separate manner--”

“No!” Namjoon lifted his hands up and waved them around. “I just-"

You smiled, entertained by the frantic side of the normally suave, composed teen. “Think nothing of it, Namjoon. You have nothing you need to apologize to me for.”

Your expression darkened slightly as you continued. “If anything, I should apologize for not trusting you all more.”

Namjoon’s lips quivered, desperately wanting to form a victorious smirk, but he settled for an understanding smile.

In the end, he’d been right.

As usual.

“Who remains close to you, who you decide to trust, that’s completely your decision. You should never have to apologize for it.” Namjoon said.

You smiled in acknowledgement, then furrowed your brows in confusion when Namjoon started to dig around in his bag.

“I heard we were gift giving this week.” He pulled out a beautiful, leather bound journal and fountain pen and carefully placed the items on your lap. 

“This is absolutely gorgeous. How did you know I like writing?” You smiled. 

Of course he knew. He knew everything about you.

“I didn’t,” he replied, shrugging with a small smile. “I like to write in journals as a form of catharsis, and thought you might want to try.”

“Thank you so much.” You lifted an arm up and gestured for a one armed hug, one that Namjoon happily accepted.

Clutching the journal to your chest, you gathered the courage to ask him the question that had been running around in your head the past week.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

“How did you guys find me in time?”

The elder clenched his jaw and shifted his gaze aside as if he couldn’t beat to direct his apparent anger and frustration toward you. 

“We heard from Jimin that Aemilia took you and interrogated the police commissioner about any of our private guard’s movements. He fessed and told us that Aemilia told him that I texted her, claiming that there was another soul in need of punishment.” 

Namjoon grit his teeth, vexation rolling off of him in waves as he practically hissed out his words. “He authorized members of our private force to move under her order in order to subdue you.”

Recounting the ridiculous lie that the redhead told her father, and the father’s idiotic tendency to believe her, made his blood hot.

“After we heard that, we rushed to all the places in the forest that the Augustus men might have taken you. Thankfully, we got to Lorne’s Ledge in time and Jimin was able to save you before you could fall off the edge.”

“Are you sure?” You said. “I could have sworn I stepped off...I thought I was a goner.”

Namjoon shook his head. “We definitely got there in time to save you. You sustained several head injuries, so I’d understand if you didn’t see Jimin or blacked out.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pondering his response for several moments before nodding at his answer. 

There was no way you would ever be able to forget what happened that night.

You knew for a fact that your feet had left the ledge. 

But he was right, you did take several nasty hits from Byun and Lee.

You wanted to keep asking him questions, but the pained, forced look in his eye made you pause on that front.

Perhaps that projection you saw of your mother had actually been Jimin.

You wrung your hands together. 

“What matters now is that you’re safe and sound.” Namjoon gently placed his hand atop yours and gave it a supporting squeeze. “All you need to focus on is getting better. We definitely won’t let them get away with this.”

You nodded again, smiling slightly at Namjoon in thanks for his concern.

——————————————————————

Halfway across town, Aemilia Augustus paced around in her room, practically biting off her perfectly manicured nails in worry.

It had been seven days. 

Seven days of nothing.

Not a single word had come in from Byun or Lee.

When she arrived at school that first day and heard everyone talking about your absence, she felt pure and utter bliss. 

There was no joy like the joy she felt in that moment.

Such euphoria simply couldn’t be replaced.

The only moments that could possibly top it were her future engagement with Kim Namjoon, or the day she would take over her family business.

Because so many days went by without a single peep at your face, she thought her plan was working. 

She felt on top of the world.

But Byun and Lee were two of the most promising soldiers on the squad. There was no reason as to why they were taking so long to get back to her to confirm your measly little death.

As a result, she was starting to panic.

Of course, she had an emergency plan. 

She had no need for it, as there was no way her plan could go wrong, but she always had to be prepared, after all.

Just as she was about to take deep breaths to calm herself down, she jumped at the sound of pounding footsteps and yelps drifting into her room from downstairs.

She heard the annoying cry of her mother and father, and then the sound of several people talking.

A grim chill fell over her.

Unexpectedly, her plan had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

There wasn’t much time left now, as she could hear the footsteps get closer and closer.

To hell with her parents--their capture was inevitable.

Aemilia Augustus would not be captured like a criminal, not as long as she was alive and well.

Aemilia padded over to her bedroom door, shutting it closed as softly as possible and smacking the lights off.

She dove into her walk-in closet and squeezed herself as tightly as possible into a corner, a rack of evening gowns and day dresses covering her.

Every couple of minutes, a door would slam open and she listened, holding a hand over her mouth as the pounding feet searched every room on her floor.

It didn’t take them long to arrive at her room, and she shook as she heard them throw things around.

A rectangle of light shone into the room as someone opened the closet door and Aemilia stilled as though she were encased in ice.

It was silent for a long, dreadful moment. The officer turned their head this way and that, walking into the room and turning on the light to search.

From where Aemilia was hidden, there was no way they would be able to find her. She thanked Wylynne that she hadn’t taken up on her mother’s offer to hire a maid to clean her closet.

The officer turned away to leave and Aemilia cheered in her heart.

After the guards left the premises, she would collect as many valuables as possible from the house and run off to her family’s private home in another part of town. From there, she would plan what to do next.

Her plan wasn’t perfect, but she would be able to get away with it.

Or at least, she thought she would.

Just as the officer was about to close the door, a strong, invisible force yanked Aemilia out from her hiding spot and she came crashing down noisily from behind the evening gowns, taking a few with her.

The officer immediately turned around, beckoning his partner to get her. 

She hurriedly gripped a platform heel and attempted to plunge it in the man’s eye, but he caught her wrist and painfully twisted her arm behind her back.

The redhead screeched in fury and pain. His partner soon joined him, and they dragged her out into her room, each officer tightly holding on to one of her arms.

“What are you doing? Unhand me this instant!” She shrieked, writhing around in an attempt to escape. “Have you forgotten who you take orders from?!”

“No, but it seems as though you have.” 

She paused at the sound of that familiar voice.

Her beloved casually strode into the room in all of his glory, his head held high, that ever present cocky, amused smile that she loved so much on his face.

“Namjoon.” She whimpered. “Namjoon, they’re hurting me.”

The student body president kneeled down in front of her and gently took her chin in his hands.

Her eyes filled with tears and she stuck out her bottom lip, waiting for Namjoon to tell the men to let her go. They better anticipate the earful they were about to receive. How dare they treat their future queen this way?

Namjoon lovingly stroked her cheek with his thumb, wiping away her tear. She nuzzled her cheek into his hand, looking up at him with a pitiful gaze. He smiled at her.

Surely he would save her.

Aemilia closed her eyes, suppressing a victorious smile as she felt Namjoon pull his hand away from her face.

But rather than the sound of him barking orders, she was met with the sound of a harsh slap.

Her eyes flew open in shock.

Her face stung.

“Nam..joon...?” She whispered, stupefied.

The senior was sneering down at her, pulling a handkerchief out the square pocket of his jacket and wiping his hand on it.

“What disgusting thoughts you have,” the man spat, dropping the handkerchief in another subordinate’s hand. 

“Burn that.” He commanded.

Aemilia simply stared up at him in disbelief. 

Had he...hit her?

“Namjoon, why are you doing this?” Her voice trembled. “You’d never hit me, you’re my...we’re-”

“Nothing.” Namjoon interrupted with a disinterested gaze. “I am not your anything. I’ve never given you any inclination that could lead you to assume that I loved you, or liked you, or cared for you in the slightest.”

Aemilia dropped to her knees in incredulity. 

“That’s not true! You cared for me, I know you did! Ever since that (h/c) haired bitch appeared, you’ve turned away from me!” She screeched, her shrill voice piercing their ears. “I should’ve gotten rid of her sooner!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, all the air in Aemilia’s lungs disappeared. She heaved her chest, trying to breath, but found herself unable to.

He squatted down to face her.

“Let’s get one thing absolutely clear.” Namjoon spoke in a frighteningly low tone. “I never cared for you. You were nothing more than a useful little pawn in my game. A pawn who somehow tricked herself into believing she could become a queen.”

Her face turned redder and redder from anger, embarrassment, and the lack of oxygen.

“(Y/N) is more of a queen than you could ever be,” Namjoon stated, smiling at the memory of you sitting up in your hospital bed, grinning at him, the sun forming a halo behind your head. “She’s an angel. Our precious everything.”

He turned his gaze back to the creature before him. “She isn’t someone the likes of you can ever attempt to touch, much less harm or overthrow.”

Namjoon straightened, moving to walk towards the entrance to her room. “That’s my fault, I’m afraid. After all, I wasn’t able to properly regulate my inferiors.”

Black dots swam at the edge of Aemilia’s vision. She kept her eyes locked on Namjoon, still praying that this was all a prank or a joke, and that he would comfort her by sweeping her up into his arms.

“You truly have no idea what’s going to happen to you, do you?” He chuckled with a mirthless smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix that soon enough.”

Finally, her body gave in and shut down from the lack of oxygen. The redhead flopped over on her side, Namjoon’s cruel glare burned into the backs of her eyes.

——————————————————————

On the morning of the seventh day, you took advantage of your solitude by pondering the events of this week and the rather complicated emotions that came with them. 

Despite their reputation and despite your fears, you had grown closer to the Kims over the past month. 

They never threatened or harmed you or the people you cared about. They had welcomed you into their lives with open arms. 

You had kept them at an arms length in an effort to protect yourself and your loved ones. But what had distancing yourself from them gained you?

Still, there was no way your method could be wrong. It was your livelihood, your path to survival in Ichabod. 

There were rules here, rules that couldn’t be broken. 

Yet the majority of those rules had been broken the moment you invited Jimin to sit with you at lunch.

Was it even possible that an alternative path to salvation freedom existed?

Had the Kims truly provided another way? 

Your mother went around the room collecting and packing up your things for you as Mana helped you change in the bathroom, making sure to be careful of your still-healing shoulder.

When they left to fetch your discharge papers, you sat at the edge of the hospital bed and deliberated what could potentially be one of the most important decisions of your life.——————————————————————

i am so, so, so sorry for taking longer than usual to post! college and midterm season caught up with me--i’ll try not to let assignments interfere with my writing schedule in the future ;-;-; thank you so much for sticking with me through the wait! the long awaited day has finally come! revenge has never been so sweet hehe. also, the way that i have no idea how to write fight scenes--pfft. i hope you all enjoy the chapter <33

~taglist~

Another school day had come to an end, and you walked out the building with Mana and Jimin at your side. 

Seeing how the end of the month was coming up, you and Jimin decided that it would be best if you went over to his house to work on the project again. The beginning of the presentations were not far off and it was about time you completed your research.

It didn’t take long to convince your mother. The both of you found it easier for you to go over to the Kim residence than to ask Jimin if he could come to your home.

You sat on a granite bench outside of the entrance. Mana stood on your left, leaning up against the wall and Jimin sat to your right, perched on the bench. 

You were waiting for Driver Bin and Mr. Waye to show up when you heard a familiar voice call out.  

“(Y/N)! Jimin hyung!” You watched as Taehyung came running out the school doors, Jungkook trailing calmly behind him.

You waved at the two and gave them a tired smile. Taehyung made himself comfortable on Jimin’s lap as Jungkook stood along the wall near Mana.

“Did you have a good day, (Y/N)?” Taehyung hummed, eyes teeming with concern.

“Yeah, it was fine.” You said, struggling to actually mean that statement. 

Mana gave you a knowing look and huffed out a laugh under their breath.

It’s not as though you almost had your things stolen twice in one day.

This morning, Hoseok saw you chasing a junior who was running away with some of your notebooks and folders in hand. 

His charming smile dropped and he gave her a grim look. All he had to do was extend his hand and she placed the items in his palm, which he then promptly returned to you.

Then one of your classmates stole your laptop while you were at lunch in an effort to wipe the thing. Had it not been for Namjoon walking into the library and catching them in the act, you surely would have lost all of your information. 

Thankfully, he safely retrieved your laptop from your classmate. You made a new password for all of your devices and resolved to never let your bag out of your sight again.

“I’m glad you’re coming over again, though! Maybe we’ll get to watch a movie or play some games together.” He flashed you a boxy grin and you sent him a small smile in return.

“Jungkookie’s got loads of games,” Jimin added, peeking his head out from behind Taehyung. “He’s such a hoarder, he rarely lets us play with him. I’m sure he’d let you, though.”

Jungkook punched Jimin in the shoulder, looking at the ground in embarrassment. “Hyung, what are you saying...”

 “Yeah, that sounds nice.” You sighed absentmindedly. “I could do with a break from school and homework for like, the next month.”

The youngest brother flushed, peeking up at you through his bangs. “If you wanted to, I’d be happy to play with you.” He mumbled as he smiled.

“Oh, there’s Driver Bin!” Taehyung called, hopping up and pulling you and Jimin to your feet. 

You hugged Mana goodbye as the black van pulled up to the curb. Just as you turned to follow Jimin, however, someone knocked their shoulder into yours. 

“Oh, sweetie. You should really watch where you’re going.”

Brooklyn stood in your path with her arms crossed. Over her shoulder, you saw Aemilia and Constance standing a short distance away.  They looked as though they were about to make their way towards Aemilia’s family’s car. 

Of course, she could have just walked around you, but why would she ever let you off easy? 

The strawberry blonde wore a satisfied smile and she leaned over to whisper something in the ear of a haggard Constance. Constance merely blinked and nodded in response. 

You smiled at the girl in front of you. “Of course. It was all my mistake. I’m so sorry, Brooklyn.”

You stepped closer as though you were going to confront her and grabbed her arm, pulling her toward you before she could step back.

She fought against you but that only made you grip her arm tighter. You could feel your nails start to dig into her skin.

 “I’m sorry that you’re nothing more than a means to an end.” You murmured in her ear.

The brunette stilled.

“I’m sorry Aemilia couldn’t care less about you or your family.”  You continued, speaking in a low voice. “I’m sorry that your so called friend sees you as mere disposable goods, or should I say...a useful little puppet?”

You released your grip on her arm, bringing your hand up to her shoulder instead and giving it a few consoling pats. “Didn’t your little sister just get the lead role in the school play? I would hate for you to be the next Constance...”

You looked toward the blonde just to emphasize your point and Brooklyn’s eyes followed your gaze.

Constance was staring, unseeing, at the ground, nervously clinging to Aemilia like a lifeline. She was strangely quiet and obedient...like a dog in fear of disobeying its master.

Brooklyn looked back and forth between you, Aemilia, and Constance in utter shock. You sent her one more sympathetic look before moving around her to follow the Kims into their car.

The remaining students whispered, wondering about what you said and in the corner of your eye, you saw Mana tilt their head inquisitively. You knew they had questions, questions you would have to answer later.

You bowed in greeting to Mr. Bin and entered the car behind Jimin like last time, Namjoon going in after you.

Mr. Bin closed the door and walked around to the other side of the vehicle in preparation to leave.

“I’ve never seen Brooklyn look so shocked,” Taehyung said from the backseat. He put his hands on the headrest behind you and poked his head around it. “What did you tell her?”

You shrugged. “Something that could hopefully put her life in a different perspective.”

“I don’t know how you deal with those girls, (Y/N).” Jimin said. “Aren’t you tired of the tricks Aemilia’s playing?”

“Don’t you just want to get rid of them, once and for all?” Taehyung asked, tone darkening.

You shrugged. “For whatever reason, she’s currently obsessed with me-”

The reason being all of you-

“-and of course I want her to stop, but I would never give her the satisfaction of letting her think she won. She’s petty, and a bully.”

You texted your mother an update on your location and locked your phone, looking up at your classmates. “She just needs a reality check. I’d be happy to give it to her every now and then.”

Part of you felt like trying to care for Brooklyn was pointless, especially after the way she treated you. The other part of you felt you were killing two birds with one stone--you were opening her eyes and isolating Aemilia in one go.

While Namjoon and Hoseok nodded in understanding, the rest of the boys couldn’t help but worry. 

They all followed Namjoon’s advice religiously in fear of scaring you away. But what if your independence only made it harder for them to be able to be there for you? What if you never came to them on your own for assistance?

...They would simply have to make it so that you had no other choice, would they not?

But the circumstances were not yet that dire, so for now, you had nothing to fear.

——————————————————————

The ride into the woods was pleasantly silent, and this time you made sure you didn’t fall asleep.

All too soon, Mr. Bin drove the van past the wrought-iron gate and up the impressive driveway. You weren’t as nervous as you were your first time visiting their residence, but you still had your guard up.

The boys bound up the wooden steps and opened the front door, piling into their home. You entered last, quietly closing the door behind you. 

As you were taking off your shoes, you spied a pair of nude slides next to all of the black ones.

Jungkook noticed you looking at them and smiled. “Mother prepared them for you. She saw you wearing hyung’s pair the last time you came over and ordered them after you left with your mom.”

“That’s so kind of her,” you said, slightly in awe. “I’ll be sure to express my thanks.”

You never thought you’d reach the day where Mrs. Kim would welcome you so readily into her home, but here you stood corrected. 

“(Y/N), let’s go!” Jimin called to you from the stairway.

“Coming!” You lay your shoes at the door, slid your feet into the slippers, and went to catch up with him, climbing upstairs. 

The library had hardly changed since you were gone. The shelves were just as dusty and dilapidated as before, and the couch was just as comfortable.

You maintained a safe distance away from Jimin this time as well so he wouldn’t get the opportunity to pull any tricks.

You spent the majority of the afternoon on writing the paper together, as you both had agreed. A few hours later, you finished and decided to get a head start on the presentation.

“‘The strength of a Nephilim depends on which angelic order their parent hails from,’” You read out to Jimin as he added to your shared document from his laptop. 

“‘The sheer majority, however, were parented by those in the third sphere. This was the lowest order consisting of the angels most concerned with the affairs of humans: Principalities, Archangels, and Angels.’”

“Got it.” He claimed, typing out a couple more sentences. “I think we have enough for the background information, but Mrs. Hargrove also wants us to discuss the religions they come from, their abilities and their weaknesses.”

You hummed. “Angels are mentioned in a multitude of religions, but Nephilim are really only mentioned in the Hebrew Bible, according to sources.”

“So that question shouldn’t be so difficult to answer,” He smiled, marking it. 

“Nephilim are really strong,” you said from behind the book cover, fascinated by the information it held. “They appear as ordinary humans on the outside but possess celestial powers bestowed upon them by their angelic parent. They’re faster and stronger than ordinary humans, and are excellent at reading people.” 

Jimin took the book from you and glanced further down in the book to see if he could find more specific powers for your project. 

“Oh, I found something here.” 

You opened your laptop and prepared to type as he read. 

“It says Nephilim possess super strength, longevity, the power of flight, healing abilities, teleportation, telepathy, angelic wrath, illusions, the ability to drain someone’s life force, and telekinesis.” He raised his eyebrow in awe. 

You chuckled as your hands raced to keep up with his words. “Illusions, the ability to drain someone’s life force, and what?”

“Telekinesis, the ability to move things with your mind.” He said. 

“I could use that all the time--like, the other day, I was waiting in front of the student council room to return the uniform I borrowed.” 

You recounted the story for Jimin as he peeked up at you. You were too engrossed in typing, however, to notice his gaze.  “I could have sworn the door was locked, but then Namjoon appeared and it unlocked without him pulling out a key or anything. He just flicked his wrist and open sesame.”

Jimin unabashedly stared at you, a small smile on his face. You always noticed the littlest things about them and it made his heart pound for you a little harder.

“Namjoon hyung always comes in at the coolest moments,” he replied, looking down at what you’d managed to gather so far. “So, we have the powers and where they come from. I think we found a section on their weaknesses the other day.”

“Yeah, it sounds like their main weakness is original sin, or the innate tendency to sin, all humans receive once they’re born.” You thought back to the section you and Jimin read before. “Because they’re part human and part angel, they are constantly at war with themselves and the human side typically wins.”

“Do you think that’s a bad thing?” Jimin asked. 

You closed your laptop. “...What do you mean?”

Jimin shifted, tucking his legs underneath him. “I mean, they’re celestial beings. They have cosmic powers at their disposal, access to the heavens, and everything they could have wanted. But they have a choice to throw it away, to sin, for...whatever the reason may be.” He muttered, glancing aside at the carpet. “If they gave it up, do you think they would have made the right decision?”

You paused for a moment, eyeing the shadows nearby branches cast on the library windows. “It think it depends on the person and what they’re sinning for. Whether they were doing it for their own self interest, or to protect a loved one-”

“What if they were doing it because they loved someone?” Jimin interrupted, eyes widened in curiosity.

Your eyes left the window as you turned to face him. “I would admire their dedication. And it’s not as though they lose their abilities when they fall from grace. I only wish that person would be worth it, and that they’re happy.” 

You smiled wistfully. “An angel losing their wings to love someone for the rest of their life. What a sad, beautiful thing. ’Tis the plight of being human, I suppose. They’re really not that different from us--besides the celestial gifts, of course.”

Jimin grinned and hummed in agreement. 

As always, only you could understand them perfectly.

You stood up from the couch and brushed off the back of your skirt. “Uh, Jimin, could you please tell me where the bathroom is?”

He smiled. “Yeah! You just make a left at the corner, then a right, then another right, and there should be a guest room with a bathroom in it.”

You zoned into and out of your thoughts momentarily and blinked, smiling and nodding at him. “Thanks.”

——————————————————————

Perhaps Jimin told you the directions incorrectly, or you made a left when you should have made a right, but there was no doubt about it. You were lost. There was no bathroom where he stated there was, and you’d been wandering around the third floor for several minutes now with no clue as to where it was.

“Damn this house.” You muttered under your breath. “Only seven people live here, why is it so big?”

You finally came upon what looked like a guest room, one that hopefully had a bathroom inside, when you heard two voices speaking from the behind the partially open door. 

“Seriously. You need to be more careful with these sorts of things.” The first voice said, deep and mature.

You stopped in your tracks immediately.

“It’s not like I wanted this to happen.” the second one spoke. Their voice was much lower and raspier than the first. 

“Of course you didn’t. That’s why you should pay more attention when doing your work.” The first voice nagged and you heard someone hiss.

“Ah, it’s fine. It was worth it. Still, thanks for patching me up, hyung.”

You were stuck near the crack in the door, too afraid to move in fear of being heard. 

“Whatever. You’re too reckless. Maybe this’ll teach you a lesson.”

“Oh, come on. How was I supposed to know that the kid would make such a-”

“Stop talking.” The first voice stated, sounding much lower than it had before. 

Your eyes shook at the sudden silence and you whipped around to look at the hallway, quickly searching for a place to hide.

About two steps behind you, there was a five foot long indent in the wall, courtesy of the prominent display of a large painting.

You risked it and threw yourself backward, stepping as quietly onto the wood as you could before throwing your back up against the indent, facing away from the room. 

And not a moment too soon, as you heard the door fly open the second you were hidden from view. You sunk to the floor in a crouch.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” You could hear the younger’s voice sound from the room much clearer now.

You sucked yourself as tightly into the corner as you could.

There was no response from the older and you strained your ears for a sign, a hint, anything.

Breathing felt too loud, swallowing felt too loud, the brush of your clothes against your neck as you turned your head felt too loud. Everything was deafening.

Please don’t find me, please don’t find me, please don’t find me-

There was the slow, soft padding of feet on the wooden floor. You trembled as it got closer and closer to where you sat. 

In the corner of your eye, you could see a socked foot, inches away from where you hid.

“Jin hyung!”

Your savior, none other than Jimin, appeared at the end of the hallway, yelling in excitement.

You know he saw you, of course he saw you. It was impossible not to coming from his direction. You cast your eyes down, praying he wouldn’t reveal your presence.

He grinned as he ran towards the man. 

“You came back early!” The younger boy tackled him in a hug, wrapping his legs around him. 

The force drove the man back several steps and he grunted, his foot disappearing from your sight. “Jimin, you’re getting a bit too old for this, don’t you think?”

“Yes, but I know you’ll always carry me, hyung.” You heard him giggle. 

“What are you doing up here?” The other voice asked, joining the other two in the hallway. You remained where you sat, not moving an inch. 

“Yoongi hyung! You came back too!”

He scoffed. “Of course I did.”

“Answer his question first, Jimin ah.” You heard the elder comment in a much warmer voice than the threatening tone you heard behind the door. 

“I was in the library working on a project with my classmate. She had to use the bathroom but she never came back, so I came looking for her.”

You blinked rapidly, staring at the wooden floor in front of you.

There was a pause. 

“Have either of you seen her?” Jimin asked.

“...No, we haven’t.” The deep and mature voice, which you now matched to the eldest brother, replied. 

“I’ll just keep looking, then. But you should head downstairs. Father will be home soon, he’ll be pleased to know you’re here!”

Due to the series of complaints you then heard, it sounded as though Jimin took both of his brothers by the wrist and led them to the stairway down the other side of the hallway. 

You waited in that spot for several moments, until you couldn’t hear anything but the wind blowing up against the walls. Once you ensured that they were gone, you ran back down the hallway you came, bladder be damned.

Of course. How could you have possibly forgotten Mr. and Mrs. Kim’s two eldest children?

Kim Yoongi and Kim Seokjin.

Had you not moved when you did, and had Jimin not interfered when he had, you might have...no, you surely would have lost your life in that instant.

——————————————————————

You made it back to the library, quickly and quietly opening the door before rushing in.

Jimin still hadn’t returned, so no one was there to see you fly over to the couch and plop down to sit. You tried to catch your breath to slow the pounding of your heart.

Kim Yoongi and Kim Seokjin. You were almost caught eavesdropping on their conversation.

You had never wanted to purge your memory more than in that exact moment.

What if they suspect I heard everything? What if they have the Augustuses’ people capture me for it? It couldn’t have been that important--it sounded like they were just patching up wounds. Maybe one of them got into a fight? Surely this wouldn’t be enough to warrant such violence. Even they have limits, yes? Then again, when did they ever need a reason to-

The library doors flew open and you flinched, looking up at them only to sigh in relief.

“(Y/N), there you are! Did you find the bathroom alright?”

Jimin’s eyes twinkled playfully as he smiled at you. You restrained yourself from cursing at or hitting him in anger and relief, choosing instead to let out a deep sigh.

“Yeah,” you stated quietly. “It was fine.”

At that moment you received a text from your mother stating that she was downstairs.

"My mom says she’s here. I guess it’s time for me to go.” You stated, beginning to pack your laptop and notebooks away.

“Sure! I’ll come downstairs with you.” He smiled and turned away from you to return The Word of the Lost to its proper shelf.

“Thanks,” you whispered, then zipped your bag up.

Jimin was already gliding away toward the back of the library, the leather bound book in hand, but he still managed to hear you. He didn’t respond, but he smirked triumphantly.

You accepted his silence as a “You’re welcome” and took the moment to fix your composure. When you were both ready, he led the way downstairs.

“My eldest sons have finally returned home!” You heard Kim Moonsik cheer from the living room. 

His tone, usually melancholic and oily, was much lighter today. You surmised that even his mood could be improved by the sight of his family.

He sat on one of the two settees while his two oldest sons perched on the long, gray couch in front of him. 

They both had black hair and dark eyes, like their brothers and parents. One was casually dressed in a large black hoodie and black sweatpants, while the other looked comfortable in a neutral toned sweater and slacks.

The one sitting on the left rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand why you had hyung drag me here a week earlier than necessary, Father. It isn’t that big of a deal.”

Kim Yoongi was notorious for his rebellious attitude. You had heard that since his days at Ichabod Academy, he never listened to authority figures--his classmates were afraid of him and his teachers let him do as he please. The only time he would adhere to rules and tradition was at the required monthly meetings, for obvious reasons.

“On the contrary,” The older man chuckled. “Every time you come home is cause for occasion, my prodigal son.”

“Have some sympathy for me here.” The eldest drawled with his arms crossed. “I get a headache every time I’m forced to drag you home with me.”

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand, was an entertainer. He would lower people’s defenses with a friendly expression and a joke. The citizens of Ichabod found him much more agreeable and respectable as Mayor Kim’s eldest son. They thought him harmless. They fawned over him and Namjoon, praising the mayor for how well he’d raised them in terms of respect and diplomacy.

They were fools. For even now, you could see it as he lounged back relaxedly in his seat: Kim Seokjin may be considered kind and polite, but he was by no means harmless. 

“Do you want me to bring you some medicine?” Jimin piped up from beside you on the stairs, drawing the three’s attention. 

You could feel the college students’ gaze burning into the side of your face.

You kept your facial expression neutral and descended the stairs behind Jimin, who skipped down the rest of them. 

“Who’s this?” You heard Yoongi question.

“This is my classmate, (Y/N). She’s the person I was looking for earlier,” Jimin said, seating himself in between his older brothers.

You bowed toward them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Seokjin smiled and reached out his hand. You extended yours, expecting a handshake. 

He held it, turned it over, and pressed his lips to the back of it. “The pleasure is all ours.” 

Yoongi smirked as you took your hand back, fighting a blush. “How lovely it is to make your acquaintance.”

“Thank you, you too. It’s nice to see you again as well, Mr. Kim.” You addressed the older man.

“You also, (Y/N) dear. I’m simply ecstatic you took up our invitation.” Mayor Kim said, the usual, passionate fire in his eyes blazing. 

You fought back a shudder. 

“You know the entire town needs to be present, Yoongi ah.” Mr. Kim continued the conversation from before. “You’re no exception.”

“I never said I was,” the second oldest retorted. “I just prefer to spend less of my break here.”

“How’s everything at school, Jiminie?” Seokjin asked as Jimin wrapped his arms around his midsection, skillfully redirecting the subject matter.

“Strange, as usual.” He mumbled, hesitantly looking up at you. 

“I heard the police finally found the Pierre boy,” Mr. Kim added, and you suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable in the presence of this conversation.

Where’s my mother? Weren’t we supposed to be leaving?

“Yes, we heard about it at lunch.” Jimin said. His tone when speaking to his father wasn’t as clipped or standoffish as it was when he was speaking to his mother; rather, it was more lackadaisical. “Right, (Y/N)?”

All four heads spun to you, still standing in the middle of the living room. 

“Why are you standing there looking so stiff?” Seokjin sent you a sinister smile. “Come join us.”

This was the last place you wanted to be, but you had no choice in the matter. You smiled awkwardly and shuffled to the empty settee. 

Before you could sit down, however, Jimin jumped up and pulled you to the couch, seating you in his old spot between his brothers. He then claimed the spot on the other side of Seokjin.

You stiffened and relaxed in a second, praying to everything that you didn’t look as uncomfortable as you felt.

The atmosphere was stifling. You couldn’t breathe.

“It’s a shame what happened to him, truly.” Mr. Kim continued, humming in sympathy. “I sincerely hope something like that doesn’t have to happen again.”

How dare he sit here and act as though he had nothing to do with it? What happened to Chance Pierre was his fault! You unconsciously balled your fist in your lap.

“I’m sure everyone will take this lesson to heart, Father.” Seokjin consoled him. “May they never underestimate the power of Wylynne’s grace again.”

“She is holy and forgiving, but some actions need to be punished, yes.” Yoongi added from your right with a cruel smirk. “Praise Wylynne.”

“Praise Wylynne.” Jimin nodded, eyes twinkling with amusement.

It suddenly occurred to you that you were the only one left who had not spoken. When you raised your eyes to meet with the others’, indeed, they were waiting for your response.

“...Praise Wylynne.” You smiled. False religion or not, there was no way you would be testing your luck in front of the divine priest and his sons.

Mr. Kim nodded in approval, then broke out into a laugh. “Wise, hardworking, and devoted; like mother, like daughter. Wylynne surely smiles upon the women of the (L/N) family.”

You laughed awkwardly. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

“Will your mother be arriving to get you soon?” Mr. Kim asked you.

“It was to my knowledge that she was already here-”

“(Y/N)!”

Your head spun toward the sound of your mother’s voice and found her standing in the entryway next to Kim Eunbyul. She wore navy blue scrubs today and her hair was pulled back into a bun with a few loose strands in the front. 

You had thought right. The two were a vision next to each other.

Mrs. Kim walked over, bringing your mother with her. “I apologize for the wait--(M/N) and I were having the most delightful conversation. (Y/N) my dear, how are you?”

She sat next to her husband on one settee and your mother took a seat on the other, empty one. 

This was your second time seeing Mrs. Kim, yet you still could not get over her beauty. She wore another silk housedress, a muslin scarf draped behind her back and over her inner arms. 

Her elegance was neither ostentatious nor arrogant. She demanded respect but gave it in return. 

She had what Aemilia desperately sought after but could never possess.

You nodded with a smile, bowing slightly. “Good evening, Mrs. Kim. I’m fine, thanks for worrying. And thank you so much for the sandals, I really appreciate you going out of your way for me.”

The former actress waved her hand lightly as she laughed. “It was no trouble at all!”

She took your hands in hers and looked down at her feet. “Besides, we match!” Following her gaze, your eyes widened. Indeed, you both had the same style and brand of slippers on.

“Thank you so much for the welcoming her so warmly, Mrs. Kim.” Your mother smiled. 

“Of course.” She assured. “Think nothing of it. I already think of you both as family.”

Your heart warmed a bit and you smiled in response to her words, for you already greatly admired Mrs. Kim. To think that she had taken a liking to both you and your mother...

It was then that the rest of the brothers trekked downstairs in curiosity, then heartily grinned once they realized their oldest brothers had arrived.

“How about we let the kids step aside so us adults can talk properly, hmm?” Mrs. Kim suggested, taking her husband’s hand.

Mr. Kim grinned and squeezed her hand in response. “A wonderful idea, love.”

The boys then quickly pulled you away from the main couches, moving your discussion toward the glass windows. 

You looked back at your mom a couple of times while the brothers greeted each other before focusing on the conversation at hand.

The eight of you stood in a circle near the windows, and you were currently stuck between Jungkook and Seokjin. 

“The other day, (Y/N) said she really liked your interior designing, Jin hyung.” Hoseok piped up. “She said she thought the living room was lovely.”

“Did she? She must have impeccable taste.” He playfully winked at you.

You smiled weakly. “Thank you. I really admire what you’ve done with the space.”

Yoongi, across from you, leaned against the glass. “How is everything at the academy these days?” He asked. 

You hesitated to answer then directed your gaze to the floor thinking the question was not meant for you. When you didn’t hear any of the other boys speak, you looked up and found six sets of eyes on you.

Their gazes were so focused and intense, as if you would break or disappear the moment they looked away. You shifted your eyes.

“It’s not the easiest, but isn’t that what high school is like for everyone?” You grimace-smiled.

“(Y/N)’s being bullied.” Taehyung revealed, draping himself over Jimin’s shoulder. “Aemilia Augustus and her lackeys won’t leave her alone.”

This little-

You whipped your head around to see if your mother had heard anything. Thankfully, Taehyung’s voice was lowered at the time. She seemed engrossed in her discussion with Mrs. Kim. 

“The Augustus princess?” Yoongi asked, interrupting your thoughts. 

“She’s what?” Jin started in surprise, his polite smile turning into a displeased frown. He glanced at Namjoon. The student council president simply nodded in response.

“She has the other kids pester or steal from (Y/N).” Hoseok added, glaring out the window. “The students can hardly stop talking about it.” 

Jungkook gently tugged on your shirt sleeve to get your attention. “If she’ s bothering you--” 

“It’s alright.” You assured them before they could really give Aemilia and her people a reason to go after you. “I’m working it out.”

“And how well is that going?” Namjoon snorted, giving you a knowing look.

You grimaced, locking and unlocking your phone. “...I’m working it out.” You repeated, suddenly fascinated by the wooden floor.

“If she ever gives you a hard time, you let me know.” Yoongi said, holding up his fists. One hand was wrapped in bandages and the other hand was bare, knuckles covered in torn skin and still-healing scabs. “I don’t get these from just lying around, if you catch my drift.”

You gaped at his hands and at the offer. Kim Yoongi? Offering to beat someone up for you? Where had his famous apathetic attitude gone?

“Violence is never the answer, Yoongi ah.” Seokjin replied before you could. He gently took your phone from you while it was unlocked and swiped around until he found your contacts. “If you ever need help, just give us a call. Don’t be afraid to reach out. We’ll always be there.”

You opened and closed your mouth in distress. 

Seokjin pointedly ignored the glare Namjoon was sending his way. 

He was jealous of his younger brothers, who got to see and speak with you every day. Earlier, he’d been in the middle of healing and wrapping Yoongi’s injury when he saw your shadow outside the door. 

He’d barely been able to hold himself back from ripping you out your hiding spot and pulling you into his arms. But then all of their progress would have been for naught. 

So he allowed Jimin to drag him away. 

But not anymore.

He understood that you needed your time and space but, really, their angel shouldn’t be so stubborn around them. 

He held the device out to you and you took it back, observing the six newest additions to your contacts list. He’d taken the time to add not just his number, but the rest of the brothers’ numbers as well.

“Thank you,” You confided with a rare, genuine, and small smile, “really. But I can handle it myself.”

On the outside, some of them nodded while the others frowned at the floor.

On the inside, however, they collectively sighed inside their head, tired of your age old response.

They just wanted you to be able to lean on them, to see them as another option that was always available to you, and only you.

How long was it going to take for you to trust them? How far would they have to go to capture the object of their desire?

Whatever the obstacle, they would surely overcome it. 

Your mother called your name once more and you shouldered your bag, replacing the nude slippers with your school shoes.

“I hope you have a pleasant night,” You said to the brothers, fumbling with your shoes. “I’ll see you in school tomorrow.” 

“See you tomorrow!” Jimin waved you off with a smile and his brothers and parents chorused farewells behind him.

You both bowed once more to the Kim family and descended the stairs, making as hasty but collected an exit as possible.

“I swear, (Y/N), I lose years off my life every time I come to this house,” your mother murmured once you both sat in the car.

“You know what, Mom? So do I.” You exhaled, slumping down in the front seat. “Drive slowly, won’t you? I might be the one throwing up once we reach the edge of the woods.”

Your mother barked out a laugh and nodded in thanks to Mr. Bin as he opened the gate. 

As you drove away from the Kim family home, you opened your messages and texted Mana, updating them on how you’d nearly lost your life this time.

That night, you ate dinner, cleaned up, finished other assignments, and had an hours long conversation with Mana about Brooklyn and your latest visit to the Kim residence.

The way their eyes bugged out of their head when you told them about how you’d nearly gotten caught made you laugh. Of course, it hadn’t been funny in the moment. Even thinking about it now made you slightly nauseous.

But you went to sleep that night all the same, dreaming once again of haunting, magnificent black wings.

——————————————————————

Once the front door of the Kim household closed, Jimin’s cheerful face dropped into a scowl. 

And he was not the only one upset. All seven of them glowered around the room in the aftermath of (Y/N)’s departure.

Kim Eunbyul and Kim Moonsik sat deathly still on the couch, unprepared for whatever was coming.

When someone is explosive with anger, they are destructive. One might break things, they may say harmful words, but for the most part, one takes their anger out in that single moment.

The seven men behind them were different.  

When they were angry, they plotted. The harder it was for them to get what they wanted, the harder they fought. They made sure there would be nothing that could possibly be in their way. 

“We told you to be patient, hyung.” Namjoon broke the angry silence. “Don’t ruin all of our plans with your ineptitude.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?” Seokjin scoffed. “I put your number in her phone, too. Try being a little grateful.”

“Don’t disrespect your elders, Namjoon.” Hoseok chided, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We told you to put your dog on her leash.”

“You weren’t complaining when Aemilia’s antics gave you opportunities to help (Y/N),” Namjoon sneered. “I loathe her very existence as well, don’t misunderstand me.”

“You should hear the rumors going around at school, Namjoon hyung.” Jungkook frowned. “People are placing bets on how soon Aemilia’s going to destroy her.”

“I know you’re the brains of this operation but if (Y/N) gets hurt, this is not going to end prettily.” Yoongi stated solemnly.

“I won’t let it get to that point.” Namjoon assured.

“Get it together. And keep that girl in line.” Seokjin nodded.

There was a significant reason Eunbyul was so receptive of the (h/c) haired girl and her mother. 

Despite the fact that she really did enjoy your company and was happy to welcome you into their home, she knew what would await her if she ever dared to mistreat you.

You precious thing. You precious, hardheaded, stubborn thing. Why did you not give in to what they wanted? Could you truly not see how much they how much they longed to protect possess be with you?

Perhaps you’ve already started picking up on it, and this was why you wanted to distance yourself from them before it was too late.

You beautiful, foolish thing. It was already far too late.

Eunbyul quivered, squeezing her husband’s hand. Moonsik wore a stony expression on his face, but he squeezed his wife’s hand back with surprising strength. 

When she looked up from her lap, she gasped, for Jungkook was squatting directly in front of her. She felt as though his dark gaze was piercing her soul.

The probability of that very thing happening in this instant was high.

She exhaled and carefully avoided his gaze.

“Mother, Father,” he hummed, “is everything alright? You’re shaking like leaves in the wind.”

“Oh dear.” Taehyung replied, resting his arms on the back of the settee behind them. He tilted his head and frowned down at the two as if they were insects, scurrying around in an attempt to escape their deaths. “That doesn’t sound very good.”

“I’m sure it was just a result of them working so hard.” Seokjin smiled at Moonsik. “I must say, I was impressed.” The elder simply nodded and avoided his gaze.

Namjoon strolled over to Eunbyul’s side of the settee and gently pat the woman on her back. “Your performance today was especially moving, Mother.”

“At least she wasn’t trembling in front of (Y/N) like she did last time,” Jimin kissed his teeth. “Useless woman.”

Hoseok bent over in laughter, the outburst shortening into a light giggle as he joined them by the couches. 

“They work diligently, why not praise them once in a while?” He suggested, suppressing another laugh.

“Like I’ll ever.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “I really hope you know what you’re talking about, Namjoon hyung. I’m going to bed before I feel the need to hit something--or someone.” Jimin glared and bounded back up the stairs.

“It’s alright. We’re fine.” Eunbyul forced out. “Thank you.”

“Yes, you should be. If you weren’t, it would imply you did something wrong.” Yoongi smiled.

“And if you did something wrong,” Jin continued, “...well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

She stiffly nodded. 

“Of course not.” Taehyung grinned and pat her head condescendingly. 

“Of course.” Moonshik repeated, willing his hands to stop trembling.

He had never expected this to happen. He never thought he would be living the life that he did.

He had called for power, and he had surely received it, but not in the way he thought he would.

Was the insurmountable power worth the treatment he received in his own home?

Yes. And if he had to repeat it, he would have made the exact same decision. It would surely be worth it. That was what he told himself day in and day out, the prayer he spoke to his god in an attempt to convince himself of the lie.

It would surely be worth it.

“We’re trusting you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim.” 

——————————————————————

The Augustus residence was a fairly old building, a beautiful family manor transformed into a modern, affluent home. It stood in the center of the city, as their family used to be the epicenter of society. 

Aemilia found both her home and its location extremely fitting. 

As unfortunate as it would be that she would have to move from this stately home to one in the middle-of-nowhere woods, she was willing to deal with it. She would follow her future husband anywhere, everywhere, if need be.

Usually, the esteemed Augustus home was silent. 

“How could you?” Brooklyn shouted in anger.

But today, those grand old walls whispered in the wind through quite the ruckus.

“The people that work for your family dragged Constance’s little brother out of his home in the middle of the day! They tortured him for two weeks! You knew where he was the whole time, and you didn’t say a thing!” Brooklyn gestured toward their friend. “She came to you for help, and you slammed the door in her face!”

The blonde had stopped talking long ago. She curled herself into a ball and tucked her head into her chest, looking well on the verge of a panic attack. 

The three girls had arrived at Aemilia’s house earlier, prepared to do the usual: finish some homework, study, and binge watch some shows. 

But (Y/N) (L/N)’s words had been ringing inside of Brooklyn’s head all afternoon. 

A means to an end. 

Disposable goods.

A useful little puppet.

She couldn’t take thinking it anymore, so she finally voiced the dreaded question. Brooklyn asked Aemilia what she and Constance meant to her.

The strawberry blonde tilted her head, staying quiet for several minutes. She then grinned and replied,“My ladies in waiting?”

For Wylynne’s sake. She could have at least been less direct than to compare them to literal servants.

Brooklyn erupted at Aemilia, asking her if that’s what she thought years of friendship had amounted to, thus leading them to their current argument.

For whatever reason, it had never occurred to the brunette that Aemilia may be using her. She thought she had broken the barriers the callous girl held for her long ago, but after Constance showed up at Brooklyn’s house in tears, combined with Aemilia’s response to Chance’s disappearance...

Perhaps it was time she seriously reevaluated their “friendship”.

“Don’t you think you could have reassured her that he was alive? Even police officers tell family members when people have been arrested.” Brooklyn glared at the other girl.

“Get real, Brooklyn. This isn’t a stupid police station. This is Ichabod. It’s because we live in Ichabod that Chance broke the law, and received his due punishment.” Aemilia justified coldly.

“A fourteen year old boy in laying in his bed, covered in bruises and permanently blind in one eye. But I need to get real because this is Ichabod, and that somehow makes it okay?” Brooklyn raised her volume, disturbed by how convicted Aemilia was in her reasoning. “How could you possibly think that makes it okay?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Aemilia sneered, “I wasn’t aware that I needed your opinion or approval for my thoughts and actions.”

“That’s exactly the problem! This is about you playing us, using us through your actions! I honestly thought we meant more than that to you!” She snarled in response.

“I don’t see a problem with it,” Aemilia shrugged. “You and Constance used me for popularity and safety, and now you come crying to me, claiming that I can’t use you in return?” She barked out a laugh. “That hardly seems fair. How ungrateful.”

The brunette couldn’t deny the benefits that came along with being close to the strawberry blonde, but for her to twist their entire history and friendship into one of utility? She was beside herself with anger.

“Used you? You think we used you? For what?” She roared. “Your money? Your status? Don’t you think we have those exact same things?” 

Brooklyn Hayes and Constance Pierre were not one’s normal, run of the mill best friends. In fact, they were in extremely similar situations to Aemilia, for their families were also members of the old city elite. 

The Hayes and Pierres had lived in Ichabod for nearly as long as the Augustuses. They may not have had the same amount of prestige that Aemilia lay claim to, but they certainly were not far off.

“You grew up with us and thought we were nothing more than what? Walking labels that strengthened your social status? People you could use to do your bidding?” Brooklyn deadpanned. “We were nothing more than pawns in your game, weren’t we?”

“We didn’t befriend you because of your title or your family, Aemilia. We befriended you because we admired you and your personality. We weren’t the ones that twisted your perception of us into toys, or puppets, or ladies in waiting.” She gave a mirthless smile. “That was all you.”

Aemilia paused, reminiscing on her younger days. In every interaction she ever experienced, she was treated like royalty. At some point, she simply assumed it was natural for everyone to bend to her every whim.

Everyone...except for those two.

They had approached her for some childish reason like playing dolls or tag or other, but it was all genuine. 

“I honestly can’t believe you.” Brooklyn shook her head at her silence and stormed around the room, collecting her and Constance’s materials and shoving them into their respective bags. 

“All these years. All these years, and I was that clueless, that hopeful.” Brooklyn muttered as she gave her a cruel smile. “I can’t believe (Y/N) (L/N) knew you better than I did.” 

Aemilia’s face flushed bright red. 

“Your ladies in waiting are going to relieve themselves of their position now.” Brooklyn carefully dragged the non responsive blonde to her feet, holding both of their bags and contacting her personal driver. She curled her lip. “Please feel free to march your way to the throne by yourself, your highness.” 

The door slammed shut behind them, and for a moment, the residence was silent once more.

Then, with an anguished cry, Aemilia picked up whatever textbooks were nearby and vaulted them at her walls.

First, her future husband. Next, her friends. What would that (h/c) haired bitch steal next? Her life?

“No. No. I won’t let it get that far. I would never let you get away with it!” She screamed, hurling another book. 

Her bedroom door swung open and her father ducked the incoming textbook. “Aemilia! What on earth is going on? Brooklyn and Constance just left looking extremely upset, did you three have an argument?”

She dropped the rest of the textbooks, raced to her father and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Daddy, I need you to call up the special squadron.”

Aloysius Augustus held his daughter’s hands and warily pried them off of him. “Whatever for?”

Aemilia flashed him a maniacal grin. “Namjoon just texted me. He says his father believes he’s found in another soul in dire need of discipline.”

——————————————————————

Ever since engaging in this battle of wills with Aemilia, you tell yourself that there isn’t anything that could surprise you anymore.

Yet the actions of your classmates the next morning were strange. Stranger than you could possibly anticipate.

You entered the classroom and found a group of girls standing in a huddle around a desk, whispering to one another.

The room was strangely empty. Neither Mana nor Jimin had arrived yet, nor had some of your other classmates known for coming to school relatively early.

The girls noticed your entrance and quieted immediately. You found this suspicious, so you decided you wanted nothing to do with them. You shifted your gaze away from them and kept on walking to your seat.

That is, until you heard one of them scoff loudly in your direction.

“I mean, just look at her. She walks around the school as if she’s better than us, just because Ms. Diivi had Jimin sit next to her.”

You froze but their tittering only got louder. 

The girl that scoffed before, a classmate of yours named Seph, left the group and stood in front of you with crossed arms.

“You’re not anything special, (Y/N). You shouldn’t mistake yourself.”

The others seemed to agree with her as, soon enough, they left the desk one by one to surround you.

“It’s really pathetic how you practically beg for Jimin’s attention.”

“The other day, when you made him give you his sweater? It was really embarrassing.”

“Yeah, I could hardly stand to watch.”

They imitated your shivering as they laughed, making it look as though you were having a seizure.

“You used to be tolerable at the least, but Jimin transferred to our class and you finally decided to take the opportunity to climb the ranks, huh?” Another sneered.

You could hardly move. You were stuck in place, the words swimming around in your head.

Externally, you stared down at the ground in confusion, but internally, you were shocked. You couldn’t believe the accusations the girls were coming up with.

Even after everything this town had been through, the Kim brothers still had some sort of deluded fan club...and now they were coming after you.

“What the hell?” You finally said, lifting your head to look each of them in the eye. “Why would I go begging for his attention?”

“Don’t try to deny it, bitch.” Seph snarled. “You used to keep your head down and mind your business like the rest of us, but now, all of a sudden, you’re relishing in the spotlight.”

“We’ll see just how much Jimin likes you soon enough.” One of her lackeys snickered.

They left you where you stood, turning their attention to the doorway.

You could see Jimin from the glass window in the door, waving goodbye to Taehyung as he headed off to his respective classroom. He reached down to twist the knob and pulled the door open.

Had you blinked, you would have missed the entire thing.

Seph pulled a bucket out from under the desk they were all crowded around and threw its contents all over Jimin.

He closed his eyes and opened his mouth in shock as he was doused in water from head to toe. His uniform was soaked and his hair lost its floofy nature, flattening down over his eyes.

One of the girls ripped the bucket away from her and shoved it into your hands. They moved back in tandem, shocked gasps hiding their deeds as Jimin wiped water out of his eyes, which landed on you holding the bucket.

“(Y/N)...?”

You were just as shocked as he was, mouth agape. The evidence was completely against you.

He looked up at you with teary eyes. He looked hurt, so angry, you figured there was no way you were going to get out of this.

“I didn’t do it, why would I?” You protested.

“Jimin, are you alright?” The ringleader picked back up, skillfully concealing a triumphant smirk with an open look of concern. “(Y/N), how could you do such an awful thing? Especially after he’s been nothing but kind to you...”

Wow, does she get lessons from Mrs. Kim or something?

You dropped the bucket in surprise. “No! Jimin, it wasn’t me, I promise, they just grabbed the bucket out of nowhere-”

This is it. My mother is going to have to bury her daughter young. I failed to provide for her, or thank her for everything she’s done for me. Your thoughts couldn’t stop racing. 

“Even for a prank, that’s a bit much, isn’t it?” They continued behind you.

“She’s been acting all this time. I’m not surprised.” 

“He treated her so well and it all just blew up in his face.”

“That’s just like her.”

“She’s lying directly to his face, how fake.”

“Disgusting.”

They continued spouting lies in front of Jimin, telling him about how you were only using him, how you would curse his very existence behind his back. 

Jimin approached you, his wet shoes squeaking on the tile floors.

You backed up, intimidated, bumping the back of your leg against another desk and falling to the floor.

...Would begging help? 

When you finally looked up at him, begging felt like an appealing option.

Jimin’s eyes glistened, chocolate colored irises now hardened and flashing gold.

They were even colder than the ones you’d seen in your dreams, and you felt the temperature around you drop considerably.

You must have been going crazy with terror, something that wasn’t completely amiss in your town. The girls behind you were feasting on the fearful expression in your eyes.

Then, right as you were about to stand, Jimin gently put his hands on your elbows and guided you up.

To their surprise, he tugged you to your feet, wrapped his arms around your shoulders, and pulled you in for a hug.

“You must have been so scared, weren’t you, (Y/N)?” Jimin whispered in your ear. “Those rats dared to mess with you. They tried to come between us with petty rumors and tricks. It’s okay, I’m here now. I believe you.”

He rubbed his hand up and down your back, the water from his uniform seeping into the front of yours. “I’ll make sure you have nothing to fear.”

Jimin pulled away from the hug, smiling at you. He then turned to face the girls, and with that same chilling smile, spoke.

“You all enjoy playing pranks, yes?”

The girls’ expressions changed in a matter of seconds, from snickers and taunts to tearful pleads.

Seph could hardly pick her jaw up off the floor. “Jimin! It was (Y/N), we all saw her-”

“Ah, ah, ah.” You heard a low chuckle sound from the doorway and whipped your head towards the sound.

“I saw everything with my own eyes.” Hoseok stood in the entrance, his arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame.

When had he gotten there?

“And quite frankly, I don’t take too kindly to you lying about what happened to my darling little brother.” His famed smile slipped from his face as he stared down the girls with more hatred than you’d ever seen him possess.

“Jimin...” you reached out to get his attention, but he couldn’t pry his gaze away from the detestable scum that stood before him.

How quickly the tables had turned, you thought as you watched them cower.

Jimin calmly walked toward her and tucked his hand underneath her chin, yanking her ear to his mouth.

He directly whispered into Seph’s ear, but everyone in the room besides (Y/N) heard the same thing, the message pulsing loud and clear inside their heads.

“I’ll make you wish you had never done that.”

He left the group huddling against one another in fright.

“You’ll have to try harder than that.” Hoseok smirked and kicked off the door, walking off with his hands in his pocket.

You stood, incredulous at what had just happened.

“Jimin.” You lay your hand on his shoulder and he covered it with his, turning to meet your gaze. His eyes were wide with expectation.

“Let’s go see your brother, we can get you some new clothes.” You said softly. He smiled serenely and nodded, dragging you to the door by the hand.

Before you could step out, however, he turned around to face them and glowered. “Clean this mess up.”

Seph whimpered and knelt down to pick up the bucket. The other girls scrambled to collect paper towels to dry the floor.

You watched them, trying to conjure up some form of sympathy. That could have been you, cowering beneath him. Moments ago, that was you.

Frighteningly enough, that familiar, heart-strengthening feeling made no appearance. There was no hatred, no remorse. You felt nothing as you were dragged away to the third floor.

Jimin knocked on the door to the student council room, smiling as he spotted his brother. Namjoon, on the other hand, raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Hyung! I need a new uniform.”

He stepped back to let the two of you enter. Jimin released your hand and beelined for the atrium, grabbing a new shirt and a pair of pants. He then stepped into the bathroom and loudly shut the door.

“Do you mind telling me what that was all about?” Namjoon looked down at you for a moment before his eyes flew up and he stared at the wall with newfound interest. “Feel free to grab a change of clothes as well.”

You followed his gaze and jumped at just how wet the front of your shirt had gotten. “Thanks,” you muttered, desperately hiding your blush.

I’m seriously finding myself back here too often.

You got another polo from the closet and left the door open as you changed, praying that Jimin wouldn’t leave the bathroom and that Namjoon wouldn’t walk around the corner. To keep him busy, you filled him in on what had happened moments before.

When you were finished, you stepped out into the main room with your wet shirt folded over your arm. Namjoon leaned against the wooden table with his arms crossed. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked as though he didn’t know whether to laugh or punch someone.

You glanced at Namjoon and thought back to the way he looked at the people around him.

It quickly dawned on you how bothered you were by Namjoon’s view of everyone around him as some sort of game. 

He always wore an amused smile on his face: when he was looking at his mother in his family home, when he heard what Constance did to you, when he saw all of the students worrying over Chance, and whenever Aemilia and her antics were brought up.

He probably thought he was so clever at hiding it, at being the misfortunate yet accomplished gentleman that everyone perceived him to be, but you saw right through his act.

“The audacity they have to dare make such a ruckus on school property,” He clenched his jaw. “Don’t worry. They will surely receive proper punishment.”

You nodded, eyes glazing over with indifference.

You were too grateful that it was not you or Mana and too exhausted to be concerned with the affairs of other students.

They should have been prepared for this, at the very least. You were only worried about the well being of you and your loved ones.

Did that make you incredibly selfish? Did that make you just like...them?

A hot flash of anger rose in you and died as quickly as it had appeared.

Perhaps Namjoon’s act angered you because it was so similar to, no, better, than your own.

Your face twisted in response to your thoughts. “Thanks for the help. I’ll be sure to pay you back. Tell Jimin I’ll see him in class,” you muttered and bowed then left, needing to separate yourself from them as soon as possible.

Namjoon watched you leave, intrigued by the sudden look of displeasure you wore. “...She noticed,” he chuckled to himself.

"She must not have liked it,” Jimin said as he walked out, fully changed. His hair was still a little wet, but it was nothing he couldn’t take care of later.

Namjoon scoffed.

His little brother subsequently seized opportunity of your absence to explain to Namjoon just how delightful you looked in front of him.

“She looked as though she were about to beg, hyung. As gorgeous a sight as it was, those lower beings had the nerve to send her to her knees.” Jimin growled. “They terrified her, made her think I was going to hurt her.”

“What would you like to do with them?” Namjoon asked him as he leaned against the wooden table, a familiar smirk on his face.

By the end of homeroom, those girls were removed from your section. By the end of lunch, they had left your class and the school completely.

——————————————————————

The final bell rang and you lifted your head off your desk. You’d been trapped in your thoughts since earlier today, but your class schedule had given you no time to focus on your inner monologue.

Someone’s finger tapped your shoulder and you snapped out of your thoughts, directing your attention to them. 

A freshman stood before you nervously and passed you a folded piece of paper. 

“Thanks,” you muttered.

The kid nodded and scurried out of the classroom.

You unfolded the paper, reading the slightly disorganized handwriting. 

You and me, (L/N). Show up alone. Rooftop. 4 pm.

You didn’t even need to ask the kid who it was from.

“This is the game you’re going to play?” You mumbled to yourself. “You still can’t even confront me face to face.”

Unfortunately for you, you already were alone. Mana never came to school today, as they had gone with their father to visit their grandmother at her nursing home, and Jimin was going to be in robotics club for the next forty-five minutes or so.

Then again, Brooklyn and Constance didn’t look like they were attached to Aemilia’s hip today either. The brunette spent all of lunch sending her a bunch of particularly nasty glares from across the cafeteria.

You eyed the clock. fiddling with your phone. After several minutes of deliberation, you opened it to text your mother that you would take yourself home today. 

Let’s get this over with.

Approximately thirty minutes later, you shouldered your back pack on and made your way to the school staircase. 

You texted Mana an update on where you were going and what you were going to do, just in case. After a second thought, you also texted Jimin.

They must not have had their phones on them because they didn’t text back immediately, so you locked yours and put it in your pocket.

When you finally arrived to the rooftop, you saw Aemilia standing near the edge, strawberry blonde ponytail swinging in the autumn breeze.

You already weren’t feeling well and wanted to go home several hours ago. Alas, you were here. 

Your school rooftop was moderately large; appropriate, considering the size of the building. There was nothing up there but a few stacked, forlorn chairs, scattered materials, and blocks of concrete that functioned as storage spaces.

“What do you want, Aemilia?” You asked tiredly. 

She didn’t say anything, nor did she turn around. You walked a couple steps closer to her and stopped. “Hello?” 

“Did you enjoy yourself, (Y/N)?” She asked, her back still facing you. 

You squinted in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you enjoy taking everything away from me? Everything that I deemed mine?” Aemilia finally turned to face you. 

On the outside, she looked no different than she had a couple of days ago, but her eyes seemed...hollow.

“I didn’t take anything from you.” You pointed out. “Though, it sounds like you finally realized how skilled you are at pushing people away from you. That has nothing to do with me.”

“Don’t lie to my face.” She croaked out a laugh. “Don’t you dare claim that you haven’t stolen anything of mine.”

Her gaze turned malicious. “I thought you’d be a bug. Small, easy to crush. I wanted to make you even more insignificant than you already were. Unidentifiable.”

“But the harder I tried, the more I failed to crush you. I wanted to rub you into the dirt, but you kept on escaping unblemished.” She gazed in bored ire at her own two hands as though there was something on them that only she could see.

“So I realized, if I can’t crush you, then I’ll just have to destroy you. Completely.”

Foreign hands grabbed your arms with a vice and you started, immediately fighting to pry them off. 

“Are you fucking serious? What are you doing?” You voice was a mixture of fear and disbelief.

Had your greatest fear finally come true? Were the Kims actually going to make an example of you?

“I’m simply executing my right as an Augustus. I am removing anyone who is a threat to the Kim’s empire. My future empire.” She calmly remarked, nodding tonce o whoever was behind you. 

No. She was doing this for her own purpose. Her sense of order, of what was right in the world.

“Aemilia! You can’t do this!” Your voice raised in pitch and your breathing increased, your blood pumping faster and faster by the second. The hands on your arms were growing tighter and tighter.

“Oh, (Y/N). I tried to warn you several times. You didn’t listen.” She chided with false disappointment. “You did this to yourself.”

“Are you scared? Have you now realized your wrong doing? What a shame.” You watched in horror as a deranged smile crept its way onto her face and Aemilia threw her head back in laughter. “It’s already too late!”

There was no time for her descent into madness.

You stilled for just a second, then rocked your head back and successfully slammed it into your captor’s. There was a low grunt from behind you and the person let you go. You took off without a second thought.

You didn’t even bother trying the school door, as you knew it would be blocked. 

Instead, you ran past Aemilia, shoving her aside as hard as you could, in the direction of the roof’s edge.

The strawberry blonde fell, but her laughter didn’t pause--if anything, it only rose in volume. 

You realized the person had regained control of themself, as they came barreling after you.

Yet you also knew that one floor below you, there was a balcony informally used by all the students as a multipurpose space. To your knowledge, it consisted of old blankets and furniture.

I’d rather take my chances with an old table or couch than these bastards, you thought as you ran towards the eaves.

The closer you got, the harder your heart beat in your chest. You were terrified. But somehow, under all the fear, you were able to rationally think and suppress your fears. 

You willed yourself to keep running and, before you could think about it, threw yourself over the edge.

You were in the air for about three seconds before your captor grabbed you by the jacket and stopped your descent. With surprising strength, they yanked you up and backward, tackling you to the floor. 

Your body met the concrete with a harsh slam and you yelled out in pain. Hopefully, you had received nothing other than a few nasty bruises. 

Aemilia’s laughter had quieted by now and she stood on her feet. She brushed her clothes off with a pleased grin.

“Nice try, sweetie. Mr. Byun, why don’t you give dear (Y/N) here a reminder on what happens should she mess with the Augustus family?” She crooned.

Your captor pinned your hands behind your back and shifted so that they were kneeling on your arms, bones digging into your back. He grabbed you by the hair and slammed your head repeatedly into the concrete.

It hurt.  

It hurt more than when you sprained your ankle that one time walking to a monthly meeting and had to continue walking on it for the rest of the evening. 

It hurt more than when your mother healed a particularly deep cut of yours by stitching it up herself because she couldn’t afford to take you to the hospital.

It hurt more than seeing your mother’s face whenever you asked about your father. 

Everything hurt.

You couldn’t even cry out in pain as it would take up too much of your effort, effort that you didn’t have to spare.

“Thus, I declare myself the victor of our little battle of wills.” Aemilia chirped, not at all disturbed by the violence occurring in front of her.

There was something hot running down your forehead. After a couple of blinks, red crept into your eyes, falling down your face with your tears. 

“Your pride’s going to be the death of you.” You choked out, then winced as the Mr. Byun kicked you harshly in the stomach.

“Should my time arrive, at least I will go out in a blaze of glory.” She said brazenly, beaming with triumph. As she bathed in the light of the afternoon sun, her strawberry blonde hair turned a shocking red.

You blinked blood out of your eyes and squinted up at Aemilia, not that it helped as your blurry vision kept her form shifting in and out of focus.

“Yet I can’t say the same for you.” 

Then the grip in your hair tightened and your face met concrete for the last time, your entire world going dark.

Halfway across the campus, Kim Jimin turned his phone on and felt his heart drop to his stomach as his eyes landed on your text message.

——————————————————————

hey y’all! whew this is a long one--i’m sorry for taking longer than normal to update! thank you all so much for your enthusiasm and love! i adore reading your theories and comments :D i hope you all enjoy this chapter! feel free to let me know what you think will happen next~

~taglist~

She was raised in luxury and privilege. The luxury of complete ease in her environment and the privilege of knowing that, no matter what she did, no normal citizen in this town was powerful enough to go against her or her parents. 

She grew up adhering to the law. The laws of Ichabod specifically, as they would apply to no other.

Aemilia thought of herself as town royalty. She essentially was, considering her family was only a step down the hierarchy from the Kims. 

Her parents were, in short, bootlickers. They trembled underneath their cloaks every monthly meeting, clutching the sophomore’s arms with grips strong enough to rival coconut crabs as they waited to see which poor, unfortunate soul Mayor Kim would call out next.

But when he called them in the middle of the night, ordering them to dispatch officers to “discipline” yet another citizen, they readily responded as if they were family friends carrying out an old grudge on behalf of the other.

Yet another reason why Aemilia found her parents’ subservience so utterly pathetic. They were subjugated to become nothing more than mindless, fearful followers.

She found her grandfather’s actions absolutely foolish. The opportunity for power and reform was well within his grasp, but his narrow mindedness prevented him from making the proper preparations. 

She did not want her parents’ life for herself, nor did she see it anywhere in her future. 

Aemilia wanted to rule rather than be ruled. She had no intention of leaving Ichabod--rather, she saw herself marrying one of Mayor Kim’s sons, the best son, and ruling beside him as his queen.

All of the students at Ichabod Academy knew her name and prestige. She felt that she had the entire school underneath her beck and call. 

She never had to explicitly say what she wanted, because everyone else was already prepared to grant her wish. After all, who was brave, or stupid, enough to go against her? 

Imagine her surprise when she walked into the cafeteria the next day and spotted you, seated with Kim Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Kim Jungkook, smiling up a storm.

A little nobody doing something no one, not even she, had ever gotten to--she’d never heard your name before, she thought to herself, whispering to one of her friend’s to tell her who you were.

You were driving a nail into her carefully crafted plans.

And if you thought you would get away with it, you clearly had another thing coming.

-------------------------------------———————

Your cheeks were starting to hurt.

All you had wanted to do was go get lunch with Mana and Jimin. You skipped breakfast this morning, as usual, and your stomach was growling throughout the majority of morning classes.

When you had jumped up to run off to the cafeteria, you slammed into Taehyung, who had been waiting for you by the door. He in turn backed up into Jungkook, who was standing silently behind him. 

The long, black haired boy caught his older brother with one hand and prevented you both from falling. 

Apologies spilled out of your mouth and Taehyung grinned his boxy grin, apologizing for scaring you. He pounced on Jimin soon after, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“Jimin told me about you guys going to the cafeteria for lunch! I really miss the three of us eating together, and getting to know you yesterday was so much fun, (Y/N)! Would you mind if we joined you...?”

He turned those puppy eyes on you and you found yourself with no reason to refuse. You nodded yes, despite feeling Mana’s laser vision tearing into the back of your skull.

Thus, here you are.

If entering the cafeteria with one Kim yesterday caused some whispers, you knew today would cause full on conversations.

You smiled awkwardly at the brothers with your lunch tray in front of you, suddenly having lost your appetite. Then you clapped your hands together.

“Ah! How rude of me--Taehyung, Jungkook, please meet Mana. They’ve been my best friend since childhood. Mana, this is Jungkook and Taehyung.”

Mana waved in a good natured manner at the boys. You tensed as you watched the interaction. 

Taehyung eyed them suspiciously, and you surmised that he was giving them the same “test” that you received yesterday afternoon. Thankfully, his lips split into that broad grin once more as he leapt across the table to pull them into a hug. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” He cheered.

They grunted, sending you a look of bewilderment over his shoulder. “Yeah, you too...?”

Jungkook mumbled out his greetings soon after.

After Jimin finished scolding Taehyung and he calmed down, the conversation took off. It was hard not to feel relaxed around Jimin and Taehyung together, for their exuberant natures made for fun conversations. You even felt Mana lowering their guard a bit, cracking some jokes that had the four of you disappearing underneath the tables in giggles.

Once again, you were almost able to forget what life was like in this town. You slipped into a comfortable sense of normalcy, picturing yourself as five school friends who had recently met.

Nevertheless, you never should have let your guard down. You never should have forgotten your place.

And by the time you did remember, it was far too late.

A cold substance spilling over you shocked you into reality, your vision obscured by a bubbly, brown trail dripping down your back, over your hair, and landing in your lap, staining your skirt.

The cafeteria, once boisterous, went completely silent. 

You heard a stifled snicker from behind you just as someone else began to speak.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

You turned around and spotted none other than Aemilia Augustus, standing there with her spotless uniform and lunch tray held firmly in her hands.

 Behind her were her two best friends, Brooklyn and Constance...one of whom did not have a lunch tray.

It appeared to be on the floor directly behind you, half of its contents spilled over your back and the other half over your head.

“My dear friend wasn’t watching where she was going and ended up tripping.” Aemilia continued, turning around to face one of them. “Constance, why aren’t you apologizing?”

The blonde had one hand over her mouth and another behind her back. She removed her hand from her mouth, which you presumed was meant to hide her smile, and stepped forward. 

She bowed a little. “I’m so sorry. I can get someone to pay for your laundry bill, or I could buy you lunch next time?”

You felt Mana's eyes on you, but surprisingly, the first person you looked at was not Mana or Constance, nor was it Aemilia. 

You met eyes with Jungkook across the table. His dark eyes glinted dangerously, glued onto Constance and her every action. Taehyung and Jimin shared his look, glaring at the blonde. Taehyung’s hand clenched into a fist on the table, crushing the soda can he held in his hand.

The brothers met your gaze, waiting to see what you would do next.

You blinked the brown liquid out of your eyes and turned to her with a politically polite smile. “It’s fine, everyone makes mistakes. I’m pretty clumsy myself. There’s no need to pay for anything, I can just wash my uniform when I get back home. All is forgiven.” 

How extremely like you, the brothers thought. How extremely like you to not draw attention to yourself at the behest of these hags.

The whispers picked back up in the cafeteria and Aemilia sent you a smile right back. She walked over to the table, stepping into the space between you and Jimin. 

She gently set her tray onto the table, picked up the napkins on your tray, and proceeded to wipe some of it off your face.

“I’m glad you forgave Constance for her mistake, but still, sitting in a dirty uniform all day probably won’t be comfortable.” She spoke placatingly. 

You were momentarily frozen, mystified by her treating you like a child. At least you could see clearly again.

She put the napkin down. “Why don’t you come with me to the student council office for now? We can get you a new uniform there.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go that far-”

“She’s right, you don’t want to have to sit in sticky food for the rest of the day. I’ll come with you,” Mana interrupted with a tone that left no room for permission. 

Mana stood, pulling you up with them. They picked up both your bags, kicked the tray back in the blonde’s direction, and followed Aemilia’s lead out the cafeteria and away from the callous whispers.

As you walked out, Constance smirked, squeezing the Pepsi can hidden behind her back. 

After the three of you left, Jimin slowly lifted his gaze, casting it onto Aemilia’s friends.

They scrambled to clean up the mess, bowing multiple times. 

Before Brooklyn and Constance could scurry away, however, Taehyung lifted a hand, pointing his finger at the blonde. He bent it in a “come here” gesture. She inched over, trying and failing to hide her giddy expression. 

She clutched the tray of trash in her hands, her heart pounding in her ears as the younger sophomore leaned toward her. 

He whispered something in her ear, a malicious smile creeping its way onto his face. 

Constance paled and she stilled. The tray she was holding went crashing to the floor. 

Jimin smirked as he looked at the filth, living and non-living, and picked his bag up, swinging it over his shoulder. Jungkook scoffed and glared at them, prompting them to finally leave. 

Brooklyn picked up Aemilia’s tray and pulled at Constance. The blonde managed to unfreeze herself and walked away trembling. What she was trembling from--fear or admiration--no one could tell. 

The brothers looked at each other and nodded. They stood in unison and left the cafeteria.

-----------------------------------------—————

You had thought yesterday was going to be the most eventful day of your life, but clearly, Wylynne had more in store for you than you could ever imagine.

Not only was your uniform left a mess, but your stomach was growling louder than ever, considering you had been too shocked to eat your meal.

You traipsed down the hallway, cringing as you felt the stickiness of the soda travel from your thighs to your socks.

Now that you were no longer in the heat of the moment, you re-examined your response. You seriously doubted just how clean you’d be able to get in the bathroom. You were honestly thankful for Aemilia’s offer and for Mana insisting you take it.

Of course, you could have gone the rest of the day in your soda soaked mess of a uniform out of sheer pride, but now you wouldn’t have to.

Mana kept you right beside them as Aemilia walked ahead, her strawberry blonde pony tail swinging gently with each step she took.

Aemilia Augustus reeked of luxury and privilege. She did so in a way that few could ever come after her for it, you observed.

She exuded grace like Mrs. Kim did, but hers was different. She looked as though she felt she earned everything she got. 

Rather than Mrs. Kim’s gentle elegance, Aemilia was righteous and indifferent. She knew her place, and reveled in it.

“That witch has something to do with this,” Mana harshly and quickly whispered in your ear. “Now you’ve done it. You’ve incurred the wrath of Strawberry Shortcake and her she-devils.”

“It’s fine,” you whispered back. “We know she didn’t do it, and she’s offering to give me a new uniform before class starts. It’s fine.”

You cut Mana off with a look, internally suppressing a rising negative attitude. There were too many eyes on you, too many ears around you.

Aemilia led the two of you to the third floor, walking until she reached a room at the end of the hall. 

She pulled out a key and put it in the door, unlocking it. “Usually, we aren’t supposed to be in here during school hours to ensure that we’re working diligently in classes, but as the student body vice president, I have a key.” She winked and swung open the door.

“Now about that-oh!”

Aemilia stopped short and you walked behind her, peering over her shoulder. 

Several windows lined the room, lighting it up with the midday sun. It was moderately sized, like that of a classroom. A wooden table set up in the middle with black, rolling chairs pushed up against the edge of the table. 

Kim Namjoon sat at the head of the table, several papers spread out around him and glasses perched on his nose. He looked up, peeved at the intrusion.

“Aemilia...to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The strawberry blonde smiled. “Good afternoon, Mr. President. I have a student here who went through a bit of an accident at lunch. We’re just coming to get her a change of clothes.”

Namjoon made no reaction when he spotted you behind Aemilia. He nodded at her, gave his greetings to you and Mana with a small smile, and turned back to the paperwork.

Aemilia waved, implying the two of you could follow her in. The floor was made of a royal blue, lush carpet, and you winced as you dirtied it with your wet shoes. “What are your sizes, (Y/N)?” She questioned.

“I’m a (size) for the shirt and (size) for the skirt.” You quietly stated.

She nodded and walked to the back of the room and disappeared around a corner into what you presumed was an atrium of sorts. You heard a door open and the shuffling of clothes.

Mana entered, sitting on one of the seats lined up against the wall. You stood by one of the walls and peered out of the nearest window.

In the distance, you could see the dark leaves of the forest trees peeking over the tops of buildings and homes. Different students were making their way across the quad, heading back to afternoon classes. You sighed and placed a hand over your stomach.

“Here you are!” Aemilia returned with a uniform shirt and skirt in your size as well as a brand new pack of socks on a hanger. “Usually, the emergency uniforms cost students some additional funds, but you won’t have to worry about paying for it. This one’s on the house.”

You took the hanger gingerly. “Please, you’ve already done so much. The least I can do is pay. I’ll be making it out to the student council?”

Aemilia shook her head. “You really don’t have to, it was Constance’s fault. I’ll do you this favor for her.”

You smiled. “I insist. Please tell me how much is it.”

Aemilia leered at you, her eyes searching for whatever you possessed that made you think you even had the right to challenge her.

This bitch.

“If you insist! It’ll be $30. You can make it out via cash or check to the student council. It’s due by the end of the week.” 

You nodded and gave both students a bow. “I’m so sorry to have disturbed your day. I’ll be going off to class now.”

Aemilia returned your courtesy and Namjoon gave you a small wave.

You locked arms with Mana, left the student council room and headed to the bathroom. 

-----------------------------------------—————

“I’m telling you! There’s something so messed up about that girl!” Mana complained loudly as you stood in the bathroom. You unbuttoned your shirt and proceeded to clean soda residue off your chest, arms, and legs.

Ichabod Academy consisted of three types of bathrooms: men’s restrooms, women’s restrooms, and a gender neutral restroom. There was only one and it was jammed into the basement, and it was your and Mana’s safe space because hardly anyone else ever came down here.

“Even if there is, what am I going to do, call her out on it?” You muttered as you took off your socks, wiping as much of the stickiness as possible off with a warm, wet napkin.

You dried your arms and threw the rest of the napkins away, then went into a stall and took your clothes off completely, changing into the new uniform. “I don’t have the mental energy required to play her mind games today. How much time do I have left?”

“Fifteen minutes.” They said, unlocking and locking their phone. “No, but you seriously haven’t heard of her? Of what she does to people who get too close to the Kims?”

“There’s been someone else getting close to the Kims?” You questioned dryly, pulling the socks on.

“Got, as in past tense, love. Anyone who associates with the Kims excessively, according to her, in any form or fashion has died by her hand.” Mana said. “She practically worships the ground they walk on.”

“She wouldn’t be the only one,” you replied nonchalantly.

“You remember Grace Ster?”

“The girl from our freshman class who left to be homeschooled?” You frowned, buttoning up your shirt.

“Yes! The only reason why she was sent home is because Aemilia blew a fit and ended up tormenting the poor thing until she didn’t want to show up anymore!” Mana said. 

“All Grace did was hold hands with Kim Taehyung. In drama class. For a skit!” You could see them throwing their arms up in disbelief through the crack of the stall door. “That’s why I had you go along with her. If you kept being so stubborn, she might have publicly humiliated you even more in the cafeteria. I wanted to make sure she didn’t get the chance.” 

“Oh...thanks, Mana.” You smiled slightly. 

You walked out the stall and folded your dirty uniform, placing it inside your book bag. You didn’t really have a response, not necessarily shocked by Aemilia’s nature. Something had told you she was different than the persona she made an effort to display.

You washed your hands and slung your bag over your shoulder. “We should just get back before we’re late.”

Mana patted you on the back as you dejectedly walked back to class.

-----------------------------------------—————

When you stepped into the classroom, you got a number of looks and comments, people whispering under their breath about how you dared to anger the queen bee. 

Jimin had, once more, been waiting for you. “(Y/N)! Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine.” You said. “Aemilia gave me a new uniform to change into.”

As you sat down, your stomach growled loudly. 

Jimin’s eyes snapped back up to meet yours. “You didn’t get to eat, did you? She dragged you out before you could even touch your food.”

You shrugged. “I’ll just eat after school. It’s not the first time I’ve gone without eating and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

Jimin eyed you worriedly as Mrs. Hargrove burst into the room, full of nervous energy as usual. “Good afternoon, students!”

You and your classmates chorused greetings in return. You internally sighed at how long of a day this was turning out to be. 

Jimin continued to fret over you throughout the rest of afternoon classes. You kept reassuring him that you were fine. No, you didn’t need anything from the vending machine, yes you would tell him if you got too hungry.

You reminded yourself that he wasn’t Mana or one of your other classmates--you wouldn’t be able to tell him off, even if you kind of wanted to.

The end of the school day finally arrived and you walked out the double doors between Mana and Jimin.

Jimin pulled you toward him. His brothers stood several feet away from the rest of the student body, watching as Driver Bin pulled up to the corner.

“(Y/N).” Jimin smiled at you, but the look in his eyes was serious. “Remember, you’re much, much stronger than you think you are.” 

He reached his hand down to gently squeeze at yours, and held onto your hand for a bit more before letting it go. “Those petty people are nothing compared to you.”

He let go of your hand and walked toward his four brothers, who began climbing into the vehicle. Hoseok and Taehyung lifted their arms to wave goodbye, and you lifted yours in a half-hearted wave as they pulled away.

You stepped to the side and on one of the benches outside of the school. Mana stood next to you, leaning against a pillar.

You eyed students warily as they linked arms to walk home together in bunches or ran to the curve of the street in front of the school to hop into their parent’s cars. 

A glossy, strawberry blonde ponytail soon caught your attention as it hit the light of the afternoon sun. 

You watched Aemilia walk toward a gray car resting beside the curb, her hair perfect as usual. She waved farewell to her friends and made eye contact with you over their shoulders.

The girl glanced at you. Her eyes were teeming with disgust, but all she did was smile at you as she bent down to sit in the car.

Should I be scared? You thought to yourself as her driver closed the door. They drove away, heading toward the Augustus residence at the center of the city.

Mana popped a bubble of their chewing gum. “(Y/N), your mom’s here.”

You lifted your head and spotted your mother’s familiar car making its way down the pickup line. 

You stood up, brushing off the back of your skit and walked with Mana to the car. When Mana entered the backseat, your mother scoffed with a smile. “What’s this?”

They beamed and blinked rapidly at your mother. “Oh please, Aunty (M/N), won’t you take this poor child home?”

You giggled as your mom rolled her eyes. “Just put your seatbelt on, Manareyyn.”

Mana gasped and hushed her. “Not the full name, Aunty! Am I a complete stranger to you?”

You laughed, feeling relaxed in the presence of your loved ones.

When you got home, you had the interesting combination of leftover takeout and your mother’s cooking for a meal. 

You put both school uniforms in the wash and informed your mother of what happened at school. She prepared the funds for the council and handed the check to you. 

You went upstairs and took a shower, washed your hair, and completed some homework assignments.

Soon enough, you both turned in for the night.

-----------------------------------------—————

Later that evening at the Kim residence, Namjoon stood outside of Jimin’s room. The younger boy had summoned him and the rest of their siblings for some kind of conference, but he wasn’t keen on staying too long.

He sighed and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Jimin’s voice sounded from the other side. Namjoon twisted the doorknob and pushed it open.

The rest of the brothers were already in the room, he noted, seated on Jimin’s king sized bed.  

He shrugged in response to their irritated gazes and climbed onto the mattress.

“Now that everyone’s here,” Taehyung stated, side-eyeing Namjoon, “we can properly begin our discussion.”

“How long is this going to take?” Hoseok interrupted. “I have several assignments that need to be completed, and dances to choreograph.”

“Yes, and I have stacks of paperwork I need to finish for student council.” Namjoon sighed.

Jimin leaned back. “You don’t necessarily have to be here-”

Hoseok leapt up, walking over to the door. 

“-unless, of course, you wish to know how to help our angel.”

The senior stopped in his tracks and looked over at Jimin, gaze darkening.

“I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t help (Y/N),” Jungkook said, playing a game on his phone. “Namjoon hyung said that she needed to come to us on her own.”

“I still stand by that statement. The more we pressure her, the more she’ll back away.” Namjoon coolly replied. “She’ll come find us, of her own volition, eventually.” 

“Then what are you talking about?” Hoseok asked.

“It appears that people at school are mistaken about who deserves the most respect from them,” Taehyung said. 

“Your subordinate stepped out of line today, Namjoon hyung.” Jimin followed.

The older boy shifted his gaze onto his younger brothers. He thought back to today’s lunch period when (Y/N) and her friend entered the student council room. The girl had shifted uncomfortably where she stood, and he thought he’d heard the faint sound of a stomach growling.

Hoseok scoffed at his silence and turned to look at him. “Don’t tell me it was the Augustus bitch. I told you to throw her away ages ago.”

“No, it was one of her underlings,” Namjoon stated, recalling the girls’ conversation. “The blonde airhead in love with Taehyung, Constance. She must have ‘accidentally’ spilled her lunch all over (Y/N), no doubt directed by Aemilia herself.”

Taehyung glowered at the reminder. When he leaned over to whisper into Constance’s ear, the idiot was smiling as if it was the best day of her life. The acrid smell of her perfume made him gag. It nearly suffocated him. 

It was nothing like (Y/N)’s. Her scent caressed him from afar and washed over him when they were close, promising warmth and consolation.

Her scent was probably ruined by the stunt that scum pulled in the cafeteria.

When he saw Constance holding the soda can, he’d wanted to reach his hand around her neck and-

“Ah, I see.” Namjoon smiled, his realization coming full force. “So, you want to prepare a lesson of sorts.”

Jimin nodded. “People need to be well aware of how to treat (Y/N) before and especially after she takes her place by our side. This can a good teaching moment.”

“Okay,” Hoseok hummed. “And how are you going to go about doing that?”

“Like Namjoon hyung said, we can’t directly interfere without it being too obvious.” Taehyung said. “But-”

“-there’s no reason as to why we can’t distribute due punishment.” Jungkook finished, his lips twitching into a smile.

Namjoon grinned, nodding. “How about the three of you tell me everything you saw in the cafeteria this afternoon...spare no details.”

-----------------------------------------—————

Chance Pierre was a quiet kid. He never bothered anybody and preferred to focus on his studies.

Students often found him tutoring a classmate in between classes or reading in the library, and they nicknamed him the freshmen class’ Kim Namjoon. Not that they could say it so loudly around the guy’s younger brother, Kim Jungkook.

Chance Pierre dreamed of becoming rich and influential enough to come back to the town, save the people inside, and burn the Kims to the ground.

He wanted to find a way out of Ichabod using his intellect. He would appeal to Mayor Kim, explain how he hoped to bring excellence to the town by pursuing his academic career and spreading the word about Wylynne and all of the moon’s grace.

Surely, the mayor would let him take his intellectual influence outside. And he would be able to escape the hellish nightmare that was this town.

Thankfully, he and Jungkook were not in the same class. Even though Chance was at the top of his specific class, if he wanted to place first in the entire freshman class, he would eventually have to confront the youngest of the Kims. A conflict he’d been readily avoiding.

Still, despite his academic prestige, he was still what high schoolers would call a “nerd”. He was bullied by his peers, the same peers that he wanted to spare. They mocked him for his financial status, for his intellect. The goddess forbid he ever share his dream of leaving Ichabod, for they would mock him for that as well.

Chance entered his home and it was quiet, as usual. His parents worked late hours and he often had no one to talk to. The spirits in the walls were his friends, he liked to joke.

He took his shoes off and just as he was about to turn to go upstairs, something was thrown over his head. 

His vision went dark and he immediately began to struggle. He kicked and fought, his breaths rapidly increasing. The inside of the material was coated in what smelled like bleach and alcohol.

Chloroform.

Chance tried to hold his breath, cursing himself for struggling earlier, but he only delayed the inevitable. The boy’s movements slowed and his assailant pulled the bag around his head tighter and tighter until he blacked out.

Hours later, the police station was visited by his mother in the early morning, the woman hysterically crying and clutching onto Chance’s discarded book bag as she reported her son’s abduction.

-----------------------------------------—————

You were awoken by your mother entering your room. You looked up at her inquisitively, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. 

You both had several hours of rest left, so why...?

She wordlessly approached your bed and lifted the covers, and you scooted backward to give her space. She lay down next to you, slipping her arm under your head.

You felt her press a kiss to your forehead. She started playing with your hair and humming a little, like she used to do when you were little. You drifted back to sleep in the comfort of her arms.

Yet in the morning, she was gone again, off to work an early shift at the hospital. 

It was a gray, rainy day today. 

Mana’s dad had been the one to take you to school that morning, and both he and his child chuckled as they saw you running out the door with a clothing bag and your book bag in the rain. You had entered the car squealing from the cold water droplets.

When you walked into the building, you had almost expected another horrible, suspicious “accident”.

If only that had been the case.

You and Mana entered the lobby to find your classmates gathering around the school bulletin board, where another missing poster had been put up.

A freshman. He’d been taken sometime last night, you gathered from the horde of students in front of you. 

The boy looked slightly familiar to you; he was probably someone you were accustomed to passing in the halls.

You sighed, your heart falling in your chest. That was probably why your mother was clinging to you in your sleep this morning...

You met eyes with Mana’s, whose own flashed with sadness and anger. 

There was no telling where this kid was going to show up again. If he was lucky, he would make it back to his family in one piece. If not...

The double doors opened again, bringing in an icy breeze with them, and the halls instantly silenced. You turned away from the crowd and watched as the Kim brothers walked in. 

Jungkook strolled along with his head held high and headphones in his ears, indifferent to all the stares. 

Namjoon walked through the students, smirking as they parted for him with Hoseok, calm as can be, a couple of feet behind him. 

Contrary to yesterday’s kind and bubbly energy, Taehyung had a dangerous glower on his face. Jimin was expressionless, his eyes glued forward as the brothers made their way to their respective buildings.

If they noted the amount of students surrounding the bulletin board, they certainly did not show it. There was no sign of concern, or pain anywhere in their expression.

This was why the Kims, while so close, felt so distant from the rest of the student body. 

It’s one thing to live in a town like Ichabod and experience the horrible things that happen here. It’s another thing to refuse to look deeper and question everything around you.

It’s another thing to live here and think that these types of occurrences are alright. 

You shivered. Yes, you remind yourself. This is the atmosphere. This is the place I am in.

You were not in a normal high school or a normal town. The law of your land simply could not compare with that of anywhere else.

Never far behind them, Aemilia Augustus entered, her posse at her back. She followed the Kims, a serene, pleased smile on her face. 

No doubt she had knowledge of what had happened to that freshman, but she would never tell.

She passed by you and Mana, looking you up and down.

That one glance told you more than anything you had gathered in your conversation yesterday.

This is the difference between us, it proclaimed. I am safe on the inside, while you are disposable on the outside. 

You are nothing. 

Aemilia walked past the two of you, continuing on her way to class. Brooklyn and Constance followed behind her, staring dead ahead. 

The blonde was far from her usual picture perfect attire--her uniform was wrinkled, she was dragging her feet, and her eyes were red and puffy. She made no move to look at you or Mana, seemingly caught up in her thoughts.

Soon after they left, movement in the halls returned to normal as students walked to their classes. At some point, you finally forced yourself to move. 

The chill from the rain and wind settled in your bones and you shivered on your way to class.

The teacher had not arrived yet, as usual. Your classmates didn’t even have the heart to discuss rumors or joke around. Every movement seemed to break the silence.

You walked down the aisle and sat next to Jimin, waving at him in greeting. He gave you a small smile in return. You silently took your books out your bag, not wanting to bother him anymore after this morning’s display.

The cold couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Your shivers persisted and within a few moments, you were shaking so badly you couldn’t hold your pencil straight.

Mana sent you a concerned look but you waved them off, circling your finger to tell them to turn back around.

You put your writing utensil down and tried to hold your own hand still when you felt Jimin shift next to you.

He caught sight of your trembling fingers and he removed his school cardigan, handing it to you. 

You tried to refuse his offer, pushing the fabric back into his hold, but he spread it out, draped it over your shoulder, and lifted your hand to slip one of your arms through.

What is it with people thinking I don’t know how to take care of myself? You thought as you gently pulled your arms from his hand, slipping them into the cardigan and pulled it closed. 

He watched with a satisfied smile as it draped down your sides and shifted in his seat to resume his staring ahead.

You thought back to the other night. 

His gaze was just as caring, just as frigid as the one from your dream. 

You shivered again, hiding it by shifting in your seat. The class sat in silence until your first period teacher walked in. Without another word, she quickly began her lesson.

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

During lunch, Mana had to go to a meeting with one of the teachers, and Jimin and his brothers were nowhere to be found (not that you were dying to sit with them), so you took the opportunity to clear your debt with the student council.

You walked up to the third floor and went to the end of the hallway, fiddling with the paper and clothing bag in your hands. As you approached the door, you tentatively turned the knob and found that it was still locked.

You were contemplating sliding the envelope under the door when a voice sounded out from behind you. 

“What have we here?”

You turned and found Kim Namjoon leaning against the wall behind you. He didn’t have his glasses on today, but wore a playful and righteous look on his face. 

“(Y/N) ah, it’s wonderful to see you. I see Jiminie is still making sure to take good care of you.” He smiled in a good natured manner and you flushed, remembering the sweater your classmate practically dressed you in himself.

“Yeah...it’s been really chilly,” you muttered. You bowed slightly in greeting. “Good morning.”

“How have you been?”

“I’m alright. I didn’t want to bother, I just have the uniform I borrowed yesterday and the money I owe the council.”

Namjoon put his leg down, gently kicking off the wall and approached you. He flicked his hand toward the door. “Oh, is that so? Why didn’t you come in?”

“The door was locked-” You watched in surprise as Namjoon opened the door easily, without having pulled out a key. “...or not, I suppose.”

I must not have twisted the door hard enough because of all the stuff in my hands...

“Come on in.”

You entered the room cautiously. Namjoon took his place at the head of the table, placing his bag at his feet. “The uniforms go in the closet in the atrium, around that corner.”

You nodded and walked the same way Aemilia went yesterday. 

There didn’t appear to be much in the atrium--there were two restrooms, a vending machine, a place to hang coats and bags, and the supply closet. 

“Speaking of clothes, I apologize for not being able to assist you yesterday. I was terribly behind in some student council matters and worked all night to finish it all.” The student council president stated from behind the other section of the wall.

You hung the wardrobe up and walked back out, sliding the check in front of Namjoon on the table. “It’s completely fine, it wasn’t anything important.”

“I don’t think so,” He gestured for you to take a seat in the chair to his right. “Would you mind telling me what happened in the cafeteria?”

You hesitated, prepared to brush it all under the rug, but boy’s gaze sharpened and you found yourself taking a seat.

“It was an accident,” you began. “Someone tripped and spilled their food on me at lunch.”

Namjoon hummed. “Who was it?”

“A friend of Aemilia’s. I was sitting with Mana, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook at lunch and we were talking, and then I felt something cold run down my face and back.” You looked down at your lap, folding and unfolding your fingers.

Namjoon rested his chin in his fist as he looked at you. “I take it that it was Constance, as Aemilia said yesterday, correct?” 

You nodded.

“So, Constance managed to trip and splatter her food all over you, and only you, as you sat at your lunch table, which is fairly out of the way of the center of the cafeteria. A table that had plenty of room for people to walk around.”

“How did you know where I was sitting?” You asked.

“Jimin informed me of the basic details, but I wanted to hear the story from your perspective.” He reasoned with a smile. “This...accident...also occurred well into the meal, when everyone else was already seated.”

You frowned. “It doesn’t sound like you think it was an accident.”

“It sounds as though she were targeting you, (Y/N).” Namjoon said, removing some papers and textbooks from his bag. “I’m simply speculating off of what I know. I’d advise you to be careful of Aemilia and her ‘acquaintances’.” He said, smiling a bit worriedly. 

You looked away, thoughts racing rapidly in your head.

You were already wary of the girl because of her status and the things you’d heard from Mana, but you found something incredibly unsettling about being warned about her from Kim Namjoon himself. 

He’s one to talk.

Namjoon asked you to spend the rest of the lunch hour with him, as he felt he needed some company to complete the rest of his documents. 

He offered to purchase snacks for the two of you, and after that you could hardly refuse. You pulled out some assignments of your own and worked in tandem.

Hazel eyes peered through a crack in the doorway of the student council room. They saw you and the student council president, sitting together as though you were the best of friends, discussing certain books or classes with an intermittent joke placed every now and then into the conversation.

Hazel eyes saw nothing but a repulsive wench taking what was supposed to be her place. Speaking to her future husband, her future king. The longer she gazed upon the heinous sight, the angrier it made her. 

She made a move to swing open the door and announce her presence, but dark brown eyes met hers through the crack and Aemilia stilled. 

She was not surprised that he had managed to sense and spot her, as she had been able to tell long ago that the president was a master of perception. Yet the usual polite warmth that she so loved was gone. It was replaced by unyielding anger. 

His eyes were alight with purple fire.

He was angry because she almost interrupted him being with you.

Aemilia let go of the handle to the student council room, letting the door click closed. She shoved past the shoulders of her minions friends, raging down the hallway until she reached an empty classroom. 

Once inside, she locked herself in there and began throwing around the desks, chairs, anything within her arms’ reach.

After she quelled her rage, she pressed her nails into her palm and decided:  no, she would not be going out like this. She would not allow that pretentious shrew to chip away and what she so carefully built, what she strove for.

(Y/N) (L/N) would soon experience hell on earth. Aemilia Augustus would make that happen. She swore it on her family name.

(Y/N) (L/N) would never return to the school in one piece, of body or of mind, as long as she could help it.

-----------------------------------------—————

~taglist~

Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest idea to remind of them of the reason why they were ostracized so much, why they were seen as different. You mentally smacked yourself in the forehead, making a note to be more sensitive about the topic while you were in their presence.

The sound of a hardcover book snapping shut broke the silence, causing you to jump. 

Namjoon gently placed the book he was reading on the couch’s armrest and looked at you with a cordial smile. “You should take better care of yourself, (Y/N). It wouldn’t do for you to fall asleep in your classes or end up unwell.”

With that sentence, the spell was broken. 

Jimin gently took your forearm and tugged you into the direction of the sofa he was sitting on earlier, pouting as he spoke. “I should have known...you looked ready to drop since our break this morning.”

He seated you and took the place on your right as you waved him off. “It’s fine, it was my fault-”

“If you still want to rest, feel free to go back to the guest room!” Taehyung added, claiming the spot on the other side of you.

“Never feel like you have to hide how you feel around us, (Y/N).” Hoseok said with another winning grin, leaning forward in his seat. 

You blinked warily at all of their support. “Well...thanks, guys.”

Your eyes stopped on Jungkook, who was staring at you, and his heavy gaze made you itch.

You leaned back in your seat and felt the sweater you’d woken up with start to slip. 

You pulled it off of your shoulders, beginning to question how it even got there in the first place, and met eyes with Jungkook again. “Is this yours...?”

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak for the first time. “You were shivering in your sleep in the car. I thought you might need it, so I left it with you after I carried you in.”

You folded it and handed it back to him, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. “Thank you, Jungkook. Again, I’m sorry for falling asleep on you all like that.”

He took it from you, large eyes getting slightly wider in wonder. 

“It’s alright, (Y/N). We’re glad to help you out with whatever you need.” Namjoon nodded and smiled, the dimple in his left cheek prominent. You smiled, a bit more relaxed now but still cautious of your behavior.

“Thank you for welcoming me to your lovely home, then.” You replied, admiring the layout once more.

“Aww, she thinks our home is lovely.” Taehyung gushed. “Seokjin hyung would love to hear that someone finally appreciates his taste in design.”

You cocked your head at him. “Your brother designed this living room?”

“Our eldest brother,” Jimin gushed. “He threw a huge tantrum a couple of years ago, complaining to our parents about how much he couldn’t stand the decor, so they let him draw up a design plan...then they ended up going along with it.”

“He and Yoongi hyung, our other brother, are usually studying away at college,” Taehyung went on. “Our parents bought them an apartment in the city so they could be closer to the campus, but because they have to be present for the meetings, they come back home for a bit every month.”

“They were here last night, but then they had to leave immediately.” Hoseok added.

Before the discussion could continue, you heard the sound of sharp clacks approaching the room.

“My darling sons,” A tilting voice spoke from the entryway and out came one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen (aside from your mother, of course). 

She glided across the wooden floor in sensibly high heels, a silk dress complementing her figure and a tan blazer resting on her shoulders. In her hands, she carried a silver tray full of neatly arranged snacks. 

“I brought a little something for you all to enjoy! I know how hungry you all get-oh....who is this?” She slowed with a smile as she approached the couch.

Kim Eunbyul was not a person meant to be taken lightly. Her status in this town was no different than royalty, and she exemplified grace with every step that she took. 

As expected of the two time winner of the Pluton Actress Award.

You stared at her in amazement before you quickly snapped back to your senses and rose, giving a polite bow in greeting. “Good evening, Mrs. Kim! I’m (Y/N) (L/N).”

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing,” she hummed, laying the tray on the table. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). Might I ask why you’ve decided to visit our humble home?”

“She’s here on my invitation, Mother.” Jimin spoke and your gaze snapped over to him in shock. His tone sounded so...flat, so unfazed, so unlike every other expression you’d heard him use today. “We have a group project for Mrs. Hargrove’s class, one that will be a considerable part of our grade.”

“Alright, I understand.” She chided him slightly, seemingly used to his attitude. She came to stand before you, leaning a good couple of inches above you. “Let me get a good look at you.”

You smiled at her—an actual smile this time, albeit a small one—as she grasped your hands in hers. 

To your surprise, you could feel them tremble slightly.

You stood there, making an effort to avoid eye contact as she studied you. When you looked to the brothers’ in an attempt for nonverbal help, your breath hitched.

The siblings gazed at their mother with something likened to...no, something that was utter detestation.

Jungkook payed her no mind, his thumb obsessively stroking the sweater he held in his possession once more. 

Hoseok and Taehyung openly glared at their mother behind her back, the elder’s lips frowning in annoyance and the younger’s twisting into a sneer.

Jimin’s eyes glued onto her, oozing indifference, his gaze all too similar to the one he’d sent Mrs. Hargrove earlier that day. 

Namjoon simply watched his mother with cocky amusement glinting in his eyes.

Mrs. Kim gave your hands a gentle squeeze and she smiled. “You have a wonderful energy around you, my dear. You possess a wisdom far beyond your years, and great power as well. I advise you to be wary of some of the people around you, though. They may want to steal your power for themselves.” She gave a small sigh and pat the back of your hands before lowering them gently.

“Thank...you?” You smiled at her in polite confusion. As far as you knew, Mrs. Kim was an actress. No one had said anything about her being able to tell people’s fortunes.

Your classmates would have called her a witch.

But with her husband acting as Wylynne’s divine messenger, would she truly have no powers herself...?

“Of course, my dear.” She gave you one last smile. “Please, enjoy yourself, and make yourself right at home. Our doors will always be open to you.”

She then left the living room, not so much as sparing a glance towards her sons. Not that they would have wanted it anyway, for they looked as though they couldn’t stand a second longer of her presence.

You watched her go, leaving with the same grace that she came in with, but much quicker than before. 

Your palm still tickled from the feeling of her trembling hand in yours.

“Sorry about that,” Namjoon stood up, brushing off his uniform pants. “I wouldn’t take her prediction to heart. Our mother tends to do that to everyone she meets-”

“Are they true?”

“...What?” 

Just as you started getting slightly comfortable in this bizarre atmosphere, Namjoon’s intense stare brought you back to the present, reminding you of your place.

“Is there some truth to her evaluations?” You innocently asked, trying not to cave under the weight of the older boy’s attention.

“I must admit, I wouldn’t know,” he chuckled, his gaze softening, “we’re the only ones she refuses to do a reading on.”

You nodded, intrigued. “I see. I just find those interesting, is all...”

“Well,” Jimin interrupted, hopping up and clapping his hands. “we should get started on our project!”

“I left my bag in the room, I should go get it.” You turned to go in the general direction of the hallway from which you came but was stopped by Taehyung gently grabbing your elbow. 

“Here!” He stood up, toeing his sandals off and sliding them in your direction. “Jungkook took your shoes off and placed them at the front of the house with the rest of ours, so you might need these.”

“Oh! Thank you. I’ll be sure to return them before I leave.” You smiled at him.

He blushed and grinned in return. 

Jungkook's hair fell into his eyes as he looked down in shame. “I should have prepared a pair of slippers for you while you were sleeping, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it!” You claimed, just to watch his eyes light up again.

“Good luck on the project, you two!” Hoseok said, turning to leave.

“Let me come with you, (Y/N)!” Jimin said, taking you by the hand. “We’ll be right back, Namjoon hyung!”

He pulled you towards the entryway and you heard the boys start to disassemble behind you, heading off toward their respective locations with the exception of Namjoon, who sat back down on the couch to wait.

You traipsed down the hallway with Jimin. “I think your mother is a lovely person,” you quietly stated.

Jimin didn’t pause, but his grip on your elbow tightened before he turned to you, eyes scrunched together because of his wide smile. “I’m glad you think so! I think she likes you as well.”

You smiled back at him, carefully watching his expression, before turning your gaze to the wood floor. He stood at the doorway as you grabbed your bag and arranged the bed. 

When that was finished, the two of you walked down the hallway and met up with Namjoon, and ascended to the third floor of the home.

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

The Kims’ library looked like something out of Beauty and the Beast, though it was nowhere near as grandiose in height. Your inner bookworm squealed at the sight of all the books lining the shelves, as well as the plush couch and beanbags resting in the leftmost corner of the library. 

You held on to the strap of your bag, following Jimin and Namjoon as they weaved their way through multiple bookcases.

Namjoon reached a dilapidated wooden shelf at the back of the room. His fingers trailed over the book backings and he backtracked and picked one up, blowing the dust off of it only to end up coughing. Jimin muffed his giggle as he covered his nose and mouth with his sweater sleeve.

“I believe this is what you were looking for,” he said once his coughing fit was over, “The Word of the Lost.”

What a fascinating title...

“Ah, yes, hyung! This is exactly what we needed!” Jimin’s eyes practically sparkled as he took the book from his brother. It was an old, leather bound thing and the glossy pages flashed underneath the dim library lights. 

It reminded you of the older bibles with illuminated pages.

“Thank you for helping us look.” You said. Namjoon nodded toward you with his classic student-body-president smile.

“Of course. I thumbed through this book many times as a child.” Namjoon said. “I’m sure you both will be able to find a fascinating creature to do your report on.” 

The three of you walked out from the labyrinth of shelves and you beelined toward the couch, making yourself comfortable.

Jimin came to sit next to you, placing the book on his lap and waving goodbye to his brother. While you were bent over retrieving your school materials, Namjoon returned the wave with a smirk and left the library, leaving the two of you to your work.

You pulled out your notebook and a writing utensil, turning to Jimin as your academic weariness set in once more. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” he stated, opening the book. “I don’t spend as much time in the library as Namjoon hyung, but I do remember there being a host of creatures in this book...”

UnFortunately, Namjoon’s recollection of the text was spot on. There were so many mythological creatures, you and Jimin were overwhelmed and didn’t know which one to pick.

“How about banshees?” Jimin suggested. 

“The harbingers of death?” You mused. “I know of them. They’re one of my favorites.”

“Ah...then what about the wendigo?”

You shuddered. “I know about them as well; their folklore is so interesting, but so creepy.”

Jimin nodded, paging through the novel again. “We could research golems?”

You smiled and shook your head. “I’ve heard about them before relative to Jewish mythology...and they’re somewhat similar to the Egyptian ushabti.”

Jimin playfully groaned and dropped his head back onto the couch. “You’re so learned, (Y/N)! How did you hear about all of these mythological figures?”

You shrugged and smiled a bit, doodling in your notebook. “I’ve just come across them in some way or another...usually through the media.”

You gently took the book off of Jimin’s lap and decided to thumb through it yourself, turning to the chapter list to see the different branches of creatures. Your finger ran down the list before stopping at a certain name. 

“...Jimin, have you ever heard anything about nephilim?”

He stiffened and his brows furrowed. “No. What are they?” 

You flipped the book to the demonstrated page number and began reading. “‘Nephilim are creatures conceived of humans and angels. These fascinating individuals are born with immense amounts of both angelic grace and the original sin of human beings.’” You beamed. “Perfect! This creature sounds the most interesting-”

You turned to speak to Jimin and found his face uncomfortably close to yours. Gone was the innocent, boyish expression on his face, replaced by an endearing and inquisitive stare.

You immediately turned your head to look back down at the page. “-of the creatures...and the least known,” you mumbled, hoping he couldn’t see the tint of red on your cheeks.

Rather than taking the book for himself, Jimin started reading it over your shoulder. You tried not to breathe too hard with his proximity.

He’s too close...

“‘As they mature, they must come to terms with their proclivity to sin and balance it out with their angelic nature. Nevertheless, this arduous task often leaves them with an identity crisis, and most succumb to their sinful natures.’” Once he finished, he turned to you with an impressed look. “You’re right! This sounds really interesting, and if you haven’t heard of these figures, then they should definitely be the one we research.”

“Yeah! So we should get started, then,” you said, pulling out your laptop and casually reseating yourself a couple inches away from Jimin. 

“Mrs. Hargrove wants us to do a presentation as well as write an essay for this project...which do you think we should we work on first?” You asked him, sending your mother your location, and opening a new tab. 

“We could write the essay first, and then pull information from that to combine it with what we find from our research for the presentation.” Jimin suggested, taking out a laptop of his own.

“Sounds good! I shared a document with you.”

The both of you spent the next two hours on your computers, researching as many articles on nephilim as possible. It was somewhat difficult, finding authentic sources about the creatures rather than commentaries on media representations of them, but working off of what The Word of the Lost gave you, there was enough to compile a hefty source list.

After that, however, you, still mentally exhausted, started to get distracted, and then Jimin decided to take a break as well. The project was due near the end of the semester, and the two of you had made enough progress for tonight. You deserved this break.

Outside, the light changed from the orange afternoon sun to the cool blue of evening. Before your very eyes, the sky outside was purple, and the oranges and greens of the leaves had disappeared in the dark, turning into obscure figures and shapes outside the window that left you wanting to pull the curtains closed.

A couple of minutes later, you were startled by the click of the library doors.

Mrs. Kim peered through the opening. “Ah, there you both are!”

She approached you and Jimin with two glasses of water, one in each hand. 

You took the glass she handed to you and expressed your thanks. Her hands didn’t seem to be trembling as much as they were earlier.

“How is it going?”

“We made a lot of progress--I think this project is going to be a good one.” You smiled at her and she returned it, relieved.

She raised a hand and paused, hesitantly lowering it gently into Jimin’s hair and stroking it lovingly. The boy froze, lowering the glass from his lips and turning to look at Mrs. Kim.

“Yes, thank you, Mother.” His tone remained flat.

She breathed out a sigh and nodded at him before turning to you. “(Y/N), darling, I believe your mother has arrived downstairs.”

Your eyes widened and you began packing your school materials. “Oh, really? She didn’t even tell me! I must have overstayed my welcome.”

Mrs. Kim laughed lightheartedly. “Not at all dear. It’s most likely because she encountered my husband along the way. They’re both seated downstairs, talking.”

On the outside, you managed to give Mrs. Kim a pleasant smile. On the inside, however, your thoughts were raging. 

Why, of all people, would Kim Moonsik want to have a conversation with her?

If that old man tries to sacrifice my mother to his creepy little moon goddess, I swear, I’ll-

“I can take you to meet with her, no worries.” Mrs. Kim stated, bringing her blazer closer around her shoulders. “I’ll just wait for you outside.”

She glanced at Jimin once more and turned away, heels clacking on the floor as the click of the door sounded.

You zipped up your bag, having nothing else to pack, and pulled it over your shoulder. 

Before you could stand to leave, however, Jimin gently took your hand in his.

“(Y/N), before you go, I just wanted to say thank you.”

The boy was looking down at his lap, his eyes covered by strands of his hair. You patiently waited for him to finish.

“I know everyone is suspicious of us and would rather not interact with us at all for fear of...” he paused on the last bit, “but you have been the only to one to approach us wholeheartedly.”

“Thank you for not treating us like freaks, or some sort of plague or disease like everyone else.” Jimin raised his head, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

You smiled and gently squeezed his hand. “Please, think nothing of it. Why would I treat you like something you’re not?”

“You and your brothers are all just people. You’re a family, just like how everyone else in this town has families.” You spoke quietly. “You may not be the most...orthodox of families, yes, but you’re hardly to blame for that. Who’s to decide what the norm is anyway?”

Besides, I have no reason to hurt you or yours, you thought. 

Jimin huffed out a sob and gathered you in his arms in a hug. You grunted, as it was unexpected, but hesitantly raised your arms to pat him on the back. 

“It’s alright,” you murmured.

Behind your back, Jimin did have tears falling down his face, but rather than a look of sorrow or suffering, sheer, hysterical glee appeared on his face.

He struggled to suppress the broad grin threatening to take over his expression.

The smell of your hair was intoxicating...

“I thank the goddess for you, (Y/N),” he murmured, low enough that you could not make out what he said.

He made sure he regained control of his expression and then pulled away from the hug with a soft smile. He stood up and took your bag for you, much like how you had taken his earlier that day, and led you to his mother, who was waiting outside.

The three of you walked down the two flights of stairs to find Namjoon, Hoseok, and their father speaking with your mother.

She was quite the visage in their home, sitting on the smaller gray sofa, still in her scrubs. 

Kim Moonsik sat in front of her, with one of his sons on either side, looking like interviewers for a job position, while she sat on the edge of the couch opposite them, her hands placed in her lap and looking extremely uncomfortable. 

“Yes, well, working at the hospital has its downsides, but it also has its valuable life experience,” you heard her say. “I truly enjoy caring for and working with all kinds of patients, as well as with the staff of the inter-professional team.”

You heard a hearty laugh, followed by the voice that you were supposed to only be subject to once a month. 

“Careers like yours are crucial in the eyes of the moon goddess, Ms. (L/N). It sounds as though you’re doing a wonderful job.” Kim Moonsik grinned and nodded at your mother, who forced a laugh. “Wylynne looks down on you with favor.” 

“Ah, thank you, Mayor Kim. Praise Wylynne...”

She made eye contact with you as you descended the staircase and quietly sighed in relief.

“There’s our guest for the evening!” Mr. Kim cheered and stood up, walking to stand in front of you and Jimin while his wife slipped by, pressing a kiss to his cheek, as she went to sit next to your mother.

Without the luminescent glow of the moon or the intimidating glow of purple flames streaking across his face, Kim Moonsik almost looked like any other successful businessman and father. He and his wife both had dark hair and dark eyes, and they appeared to be quite the happy couple.

But there was no way that the past several years of monthly meetings was a dream. There was plenty of reason for caution around them, no matter how pleasant they may seem.

Your mother had nagged enough sense into you for you to know that much, at the very least.

You bowed again, hoping your nerves weren’t showing through your voice. “Good evening, Mr. Kim. I’m (Y/N) (L/N). It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He chuckled in a good natured manner. “The pleasure is all mine...I trust you and Jimin were able to accomplish what you needed for your project?”

How did he know? “Ah, yes...we made loads of progress today.” You smiled politely.

“Eunbyul told me all about our visitors just before I arrived,” he responded as though he heard your question and smiled proudly, gently clapping Jimin on the back. “That’s amazing news to hear.”

Jimin smiled cordially, pulling you away from his father and walked over towards his brothers.

“(Y/N)-ie is leaving us now,” Hoseok fake pouted. 

You grimace-smiled at him. 

“Please,” Namjoon scoffed. “She’ll be over here so many times, we’ll start to get sick of her, right (Y/N)?”

“As long as you don’t mind having me over,” you said. “We have until the end of the semester to do the project, so, yeah, I might be over a couple more times...” You slowed as the reality of the situation started to hit. “Actually, Jimin, can I see your phone?”

He handed you his phone and you put your number in his contacts and texted yourself. “Now you have my number, and I have yours.” You smiled at him and handed the device back.

Jimin’s eyes widened in glee and he grinned in return. “Thanks, (Y/N)!”

Hoseok’s fists tightened his pockets.

Kim Eunbyul stood to her feet, her conversation apparently over. “You and your daughter are welcome any time,” she emphasized, placing a hand on your mother’s back. 

“Indeed, Ms. (L/N), Our home is your home.” Kim Moonsik added, placing his hands on his wife’s shoulders.

“Thank you so much, we’re truly grateful for the invitation.” You heard your mother say.

You carefully slid Taehyung’s sandals off your feet and lifted them up. Jimin handed you your backpack in exchange for the sandals and you took it, swinging it over your shoulders. “Please tell Taehyung and Jungkook I said goodbye, and that it was lovely meeting you all.” You said.

“We will!” Hoseok smiled, waving goodbye.

“See you tomorrow at school!” Jimin called and waved enthusiastically.

You waved and bowed to the Kims one more time, then took your mother’s hand and walked down the front steps.

Her car was parked outside the garage (read: haphazardly strewn across the asphalt). 

Your mother got into the front seat and put on her seatbelt without saying a word. Even when she began to drive, she was eerily silent.

It was not until the both of you were outside of the gates, down the hill, and outside of the forest that your mother abruptly stepped on the brakes and unbuckled her seatbelt, exiting the car.

You repeated her movements in alarm, slamming the passenger door shut and running to the other side of the car.

You got there just in time to watch as she keeled over on the side of the road and began to throw up.

“Mom!”

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

Back at the Kim household, the instant the two guests left, a violent chill swept across the room.

Hoseok went to stand threateningly in front of Jimin. “Don’t go around thinking you’re better than the rest of us.”

The younger boy’s grin morphed into a devilish sneer. “Be careful, hyung...it’s starting to sound like you’re jealous.” He shook his phone, still open to (Y/N)’s contact information, tauntingly.

Namjoon scoffed at their bickering before turning his attention to smile at Moonsik and Eunbyul. “Mother...Father...we bid you goodnight.”

Hoseok smirked, following Namjoon up the stairs.

Jimin made a move to go follow them as well, but he stopped in front of Eunbyul. 

“Mother dearest.” The sophomore gripped the woman’s chin, turning her gaze to land directly on him. “As the most talented actress in our county, your performance could have been a bit more...convincing.” 

He looked her up and down, and then released her, throwing her to the right and out of his direct path. Eunbyul stumbled to the side, her form quite visibly shaking.

“I look forward to seeing what you come up with in the future.”

Jimin shouldered Moonsik, climbing past him up to his room on the second floor.

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

Your mother had stopped throwing up, but you continued rubbing her back comfortingly. 

She stood up on wobbly legs and you supported her on the way back to the car. You reached in your bag for your water bottle and some tissues, handing them to her.

She cleaned her mouth off, swished some water around in her mouth, spat it out the window, and then drank some more.

Before you could even ask if she was alright, she turned to you with another stern look. “I was so worried about you.”

Your eyes widened incredulously, but softened just as fast. “Mom, you didn’t have to worry! We were just working on a class project, like I said.”

Your mother nodded and sighed, putting the seatbelt back on. “I understand. It-it’s just terrifying to realize how close you were to-” She trailed off and tried again. “I mean, what if....”

This was a first, for you, to see your mother so visibly shaken. 

She usually was, and is, the epitome of strength in your life. To think that seeing the Kims jarred her to this point...

You grasped your mother’s hand. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. They’re just people, Mom.”

“People can be just as dangerous as deities,” she whispered, putting the car into drive.

With that thought, the both of you sat in ominous silence until you had arrived at your home.

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

Once you and your mother arrived, you both had dinner and you ensured that she was able to go to bed of sound mind and heart. From the way she pushed you off of her, you surmised she had collected herself enough to return to her usual temperament.

You made your way up the stairs to your room and threw your bag somewhere near you desk, booking it to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, after a refreshing shower and a change of clothes, you sat at your desk. It was already significantly late, and you still had to complete the other classes’ homework that you didn’t have the chance to start while at the Kim’s.

As you basked in the comfort of your home’s walls, you felt truly relaxed for the first time that night. 

Jimin and his brothers were, for the most part nice, although misunderstood. The student body usually stayed away from them because of their parents and the influence they had on this town.

 Perhaps if this town were normal...

You sighed and immediately chased the thought away. This town was far from normal, that couldn’t be clear enough. And with Kim Moonsik in charge, the sense of unearthliness clearly wouldn’t change any time soon. 

You spent the next couple of hours doing the other assignments to the best of your ability. When you deemed it enough, you decided to call it a night, packing your things away and climbing under the covers.

Just as you began scrolling through social media, your phone vibrated from an incoming notification and your brows furrowed. 

Who was still awake at this hour? And why were they contacting you?

Perhaps it was Mana, you thought, begging to hear details about what it was like at the Kim house before tomorrow. You probably should have texted them when you got home, considering school was no longer the most....open place to have these discussions.

Nevertheless, you opened your messages and, to your surprise, there lay a text from none other than Kim Jimin.

I’m really glad I met you, (Y/N) 😇

Aww, that’s sweet of him, you thought.

You paused, wondering if you should pretend that you’re asleep rather than text him back right now, as the conversation could always continue in the morning.

You also thought of how he might nag you should he discover you’re awake at this hour after passing out in his car and at his house, and winced.

Yes, it would be best to ignore that until tomorrow morning.

Having had enough of the day, you put your phone to charge and pressed your head to the pillow, falling asleep.

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

As Jimin lay in bed that night, he thought about your comment earlier this afternoon.

“I’m so sorry about that, I just..didn’t get a lot of sleep last night...You could’ve woken me up, you know...”

It wasn’t the fact that they were reminded of the sacrifice last night that made them pause.

No, it was the fact that that worthless scum caused their beloved to lose precious hours, minutes, and even seconds of sleep.

Almost every meaningful contribution Natalia Pierre gave life, served to make yours more difficult than it already was.

She should have been a sacrifice much, much sooner.

On the other hand, they should have thanked her, they supposed. For it was her demise that led you to sleep so silently, so soundly in their presence.

They had finally gotten the opportunity to see you at your most vulnerable, and they couldn’t get enough of it.

But they reined in their greed and held any dominating thoughts at bay. For patience was the art of the game.

Sooner or later, willingly or unwillingly, you would present yourself to them and their company.

And they would welcome you with open hearts and open arms.

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

~taglist~ 

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

Since before you could remember, your mother had been dragging you to Ichabod monthly town meetings. It was the Kims’ way of ensuring the people that the moon continued to bless and favor them and would send prosperity their way in return for a sacrifice. 

In short, they were trapped here and if they wished to keep their lives, they would know better than to cross the Kims.

The people that had tried to run away all failed. They would either, depending on the “grace of the moon,” show up alive right back where they started, or their bodies were placed on the front doors of relatives or neighbors.

Now, you weren’t stupid. You did not believe that it was the actions of Wylynne or whomever Mr. Kim spends his nights singing praises to. The fatal injuries were always exterior, therefore it must have been nothing other than the work of man.

Nevertheless, you were too afraid to risk leaving Ichabod. You preferred to live your life quietly, holding on to your closest friends and family. And it has been successful for the past years.

The next morning as your mom drove you to school, you used your phone’s camera to check your appearance. There were bags under your eyes, so heavy that makeup would not be enough to cover it.

As she drove, you sighed heavily and thought back to last night, wondering how Natalia could have possibly angered the Kims. She never tried to escape--at least, to your knowledge--and she never talked to them at school either...

Your mother pulled up to the curb and you stuffed your phone into your uniform pocket, kissed her on the cheek in goodbye, and closed the car door.

Ichabod Academy, the resident school for all children born and raised inside of this town. It ran from first to twelfth grade, in several different buildings, and made for quite the large campus for the size of your town. The buildings looked quite dreary from the outside with its gray walls and glass doors, most of the lights inside still off.

 It was comparable to the size of a small, inner-city university. Everyone knew everyone, for the better or worse. 

You walked to the upperclassmen building, entered your first class, and lay your head on the desk. 

Usually, you would be able to get at least four hours of sleep the night after a summoning, but last night you barely managed to achieve two. 

Natalia...she wasn’t a bad person. She made mistakes, yes, but she was human above all. 

“(Y/N)?” You heard someone gently ask. You pried your eyes open to see your best friend.

“Hey, Mana.” You yawned. “How did you sleep?”

“Better than you, clearly.” They snorted and dropped themselves into the seat in front of you. “I couldn’t believe...”

You watched them tiredly as they failed to speak their words. “I know.” You finally whispered back.

The teacher walked into the room with a student trailing behind her and you immediately sat up, warily eyeing them both. “Good morning, class. Today we have a new student, transferring from another section. Please introduce yourself.” She motioned.

As if he needed an introduction.

“Good morning, everyone. My name is Kim Jimin. I hope that we can get along and have a great year. Please take care of me.” He bowed slightly.

Your class chorused greetings and you balked slightly as you realized that the only empty seat was...

“You can take the seat next to Ms. (L/N). (Y/N), please raise your hand.”

You put your hand up and Jimin waltzed over to you with the biggest smile. He placed his bag on the floor next to the metal leg of the table. “Hello, seat mate. I hope we can get along.”

You sent a small smile his way--though it may have looked more like a grimace. “Yeah, me too.”

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

The bell rang for the break and you immediately slammed your notebook shut and dropped your head onto the desk.

Jimin giggled at your side. “Did you not sleep well last night, (Y/N)?”

You groaned out a “no”.

Mana turned around slowly and gently poked at you. “It was emotionally taxing for both of us, I think.” They said and smiled at Jimin. “I’m Mana, (Y/N)’s close friend.” 

“It’s nice to meet you.” He stated. “Emotionally taxing you say...may I ask why?” 

You lifted your head. “Mana, and I used to be good friends with the tribu--girl who was chosen last night.” You quickly corrected yourself. “Then she got involved with this guy...”

“We told Natalia he was no good news, from the very beginning.” Mana interrupted. “But she insisted that he was different with her and kind to her. Then a couple of months into their relationship he has her smoking, drinking, sneaking out to have sex-”

“And it’s not that these things are bad,” you continued. “Like it was her life and she could do what she wanted as long as she was safe, you know? But she wasn’t like that at all before. To see such a drastic change...”

“Next thing you know, he’s spreading her private pictures across the entire campus.” Mana’s fist clenched and you put your hand on theirs to relieve the anger. “We tried to talk to him about her and he was always rude to us, dismissing us off-hand and insulting Natalia behind her back. (Y/N) tried to confront her about his behavior and Natalia fought her, saying she was just jealous of them.”

“After that, we lost touch with her.” You said. “But I would give anything to go back and speak to her, or just apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Mana fumed. 

“The power of Wylynne is divine and just.” Jimin commented as he stared at you and your friend, unblinking. “She must have taken Ms. Pierre into her celestial army to spare her from facing the punishment of her earthly crimes for the rest of her life. She always has a reason, after all.” 

Mana looked at the table awkwardly. “Yes,” they said, “praise Wylynne.”

You nodded.

“(Y/N)?” Jimin looked at you expectedly. You weren’t familiar with the weight of his gaze, but you quickly learned it wasn’t something you were trying to get accustomed to.

“Praise Wylynne.” You said, flashing another grimace-smile.

Jimin’s eyes disappeared as he smiled and the bell rang, signaling the end of break. 

——————————————————————————

As the bell rang for lunch, Mana practically yanked your joint out of the socket with how quickly they wanted to leave the classroom. “Come on, we should try and get some food in is before next period.” On the way out, however, you couldn’t help but notice Jimin pulling out a plastic bag that contained a series of containers. There was one large plastic container that had what looked like a main meal, accompanied by four smaller containers that held side dishes.

Jimin sighed forlornly at the pile and you felt a touch of pity for him. Before Mana could drag you out the room completely, you tapped them, gesturing with your head at Jimin and making puppy dog eyes.

They sent you a look that clearly questioning your sanity, but you rolled your eyes in return, gesturing once more to Jimin. A couple of seconds of staring later, Mana allowed you to drag them back over to his desk. 

“Hey Jimin,” you gently approached him, “why are you eating lunch in the classroom?”

“Oh...” his face drooped even more. “...My little brothers and I would always stay behind while everyone else left to go to the cafeteria. We found it uncomfortable to enter that place when everyone would just go quiet and speak around us in whispers....I guess it was just a force of habit.”

You nodded in sad understanding on the outside but sighed in the back of your head. Of course people would avoid them. The Kim children were abandoned out of fear and respect rather than any overt effort to ostracize them.

Before, Jimin was probably accustomed to eating with his brothers Taehyung and Jungkook, but this morning’s schedule and class adjustment ripped the three apart.

You put a hand on his desk, wanting to show comfort without crossing borders. “Well, Mana and I would love to get to know you better as a classmate, or friend... you’re welcome to sit with us if you want?”

Jimin’s eyes widened, glistening with moisture. He snapped his head up, cheeks rosy with a hopeful blush. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude...”

“You’re not intruding! Come on, I’ll grab your bag for you.” Jimin rushed to pack up the containers. He took his bag from you with a smile. “Thank you both,” he whispered.

Walking through the relatively empty school halls with a Kim gave you a sense of confidence you didn’t need. You walked in a line, with you betwixt Mana and Jimin. All the students that saw you widened their eyes and bolted to the side to make way. It wasn’t because of you or Mana--you knew this--but the feeling made you uncomfortable.

It was powerful.

When you all arrived at the cafeteria, you tried to enter inconspicuously by piggybacking behind some tall classmates but it failed miserably. The moment Jimin was spotted, people indeed stopped talking and the room was engulfed in whispers. 

You gently took Jimin by the elbow, smiling at him assuredly, and directed him towards your and Mana’s usual table. It was thankfully empty, so you put your bags down and took your wallets out. 

“We’ll be right back, we’re just gonna go buy some food,” you stated, hearing chatter pick back up. Your best friend must have shot everyone their “mind your business” glare. Jimin nodded, neatly unpacking his lunch. Mana all but dragged you off.

“‘We’d love to get to know you better’? Seriously, (Y/N)! There’s a reason why people avoid the Kims! And you just openly invite one to our lunch table? Are you trying to become the next sacrifice?!” They harshly stage whispered.

“Come on, Mana,” you scoffed as you arrived at the lunch bar. “He’s been separated from his only brother in his class and trapped with a bunch of strangers. The least we could do is eat lunch with him. Don’t transfer the sins, or fear, of the parent to the child.”

Mana glared at you for a long while but eventually huffed out their agreement. “Fine.”

You payed for your food and walked back to the table where your new classmate was politely waiting. “Aw, you didn’t have to wait for us, but thanks!”

“Of course I had to! I should be the ones thanking you for being willing to sit and eat with me...” Jimin spoke ever so softly, looking down at the lunch table.

In this moment, it was easy to forget the fear that lingered from yesterday’s cold, dark night. It was easy to take the hand of the cherubic boy that sat before you and give it a reassuring squeeze. “Think nothing of it. We’re going to be doing this a lot more often, so please look forward to it!”

It was easy to forget the curve of his lip as he quickly hid an arrogant smirk, morphing it into his trademark angelic smile. “Yes, please take care of me!”

--------------------------------————————————

Lunch was quite awkward, as it was the first time the three of you had spent a meal together. You and Mana were used to speaking about anything and everything during lunch. You both especially tackled controversial opinions concerning the Kims and their vice-like grip on the minds of those in this town.

Clearly, in this case, that would not have made for clever conversation.

Jimin saved the discussion by turning it towards school, questioning you both on your favorite classes and teachers. If he was able to tell how religiously liberal you were, he was excellent at hiding it. 

He shared funny anecdotes of shenanigans he accomplished with his brothers, stories that had the three of you holding your stomachs in laughter. 

For the most part, you and your friend were relieved. Jimin was not nearly as terrifying as some of his siblings.

Time passed swiftly and before you knew it, the warning bell sounded, prompting people to throw out the rest of their lunch and swarm through the doors. 

You grabbed your and Mana’s tray, throwing the waste away as necessary and placing the trays on the counter, thanking the lunch lady that took them. Then you headed back towards the table, where the two awaited you.

Unlike the passageway that was fairly empty on your way towards the cafeteria, the halls were now teeming with students. They whispered non discreetly, taking glances at the three of you as you walked.

Mana grabbed your arm, letting Jimin go slightly in front as they pulled you back to whisper in your ear. “I could get used to the attention.”

They started snickered but yelped when you slapped their arm. “You wouldn’t be saying that for long. Think of how annoying the constant whispers would get. The Kims have to suffocate underneath all that attention.” You muttered back. Mana considered your words, eventually nodding their head in agreement.

Your best friend did not often have a gentle temperament. They would blow up at students fairly quickly--especially if they were whispering in their face.

The two of you reached the classroom, thanking Jimin as he held the door. Your classmates’ voices hushed and you internally sighed. If you hadn’t noticed their explicit cautiousness before, you definitely did now.

The teacher for the next lesson, Mrs. Hargrove, came in quickly after you, placing stacks of papers on their desk and shutting down conversation.  

“Good afternoon, students. I hope everyone had a great lunch.” Mrs. Hargrove’s appearance looked a little more frazzled than usual as she pushed her frizzy hair behind her ears and smoothed down her skirt, but no one made a comment on it. “Today, we’re going to be making an adjustment to our syllabus. Rather than have you all complete individual projects and two tests for semester, I will be placing you in pairs where you will complete a much larger research project with only one test.”

Some of your classmates sighed in relief while others groaned, and you all erupted into conversations. You didn’t mind completing an individual project, but the stress of research and choosing the topic would weigh on you for a while.

Mana turned to you, dread written all over their face. “We’re going to have to research? Kill me now. What topic do you think we should choose?”

You giggle at their dramatic antics but are swiftly interrupted by the teacher. “Actually, Ms. Waye, Ms. (L/N) will be working with Mr. Kim here...as they are seat mates after all.” Mrs. Hargrove glanced over to Jimin, almost as if she were looking for something in his expression. 

His face gave away nothing and he disregarded her with a stare. 

Mana sneered at the teacher’s blatant disregard for their pronouns, but Mrs. Hargrove paid them no mind, eyes blown wide open as if she’d seen the devil himself. She turned away, stuttering.

“You w-will all be working with your seat mates. I don’t want you taking up any class time to fight over who will be your partner. Now that we have an even amount of students in our class, it settles everything quite nicely. As for the chosen topic, I want each pair to research and present on a certain mythological creature.”

You smiled apologetically at Mana, who pouted and turned around to talk to their partner.

Mrs. Hargrove walked back up to the front of the class, handing out the stacks of papers with the required information for the assignment.

“So, (Y/N),” Jimin calling your name broke your attention from the teacher and you looked over at him. “What creature do you think we should research?”

“I’m not sure...but I kind of wanted to talk about a more obscure creature. We could choose one that isn’t as highly discussed.” You said excitedly.

“That’s a good idea! I’m pretty sure my parents have some old books of lore in our library at home...we’d easily be able to find a creature that people don’t know about there. Would you want to come over and check them out?” Jimin offered.

You stared at him, grin slightly slipping. Going to the Kim household? Without your mother’s hand to hold, or reprimanding to keep you from doing something foolish? This would be completely different from meeting them in the woods and escaping to the safety of your home afterwards.

You’d be walking into the lions’ den of your own volition.

Jimin saw your hesitation and his face crumpled. “It’s fine if you don’t want to...I’d understand,” he muttered.

But seeing his crestfallen expression, you shook all the bad thoughts from your head. “No! It’s fine. I would love to come over...I just have to let my mom know.”

What is she going to do--say no? You thought to yourself, grimacing.

Jimin’s face broke out into the biggest smile you’d seen today. “Really? That’s great!” His cheeks were full in happiness and you felt immensely better. 

You raised your hand, bringing Mrs. Hargrove over. “May I go make a quick phone call to my mother?”

She nods, glancing again at your partner. You wanted to extricate yourself from the strange atmosphere as soon as possible, so you shoved your phone in your pocket and trekked out into the hall.

You fully weren’t expecting your mother to answer, but she picked up after only a few rings. “Hello?”

“Hey Mom,” you said. “How’s everything at work?”

“Fine,” she said. “I can’t be on the phone for long--what’s up?”

“Would it be okay for me to go over to a classmate’s house for a school project? We were just assigned it and we need to do research. It’s a really big part of our grade this semester.”

She was silent for a moment. “Who is this classmate?”

“...Kim Jimin.”

You pulled the phone away from your ear and scanned your eyes up and down the hallway as your mother’s volume increased by multiple decibals.

“Yes, I know...He invited me to his house, he said his parents have books we can look into...yes, it’s necessary, unless you want my grades to drop!”

In your determination to placate your mother, you didn’t notice the classroom door opening, nor did you notice the shadow that lurked around the corner.

“Mom, we can’t exactly refuse...it’s just a school project, I’ll be fine!” 

You sighed in exasperation as your mother launched off a series of directions, ordering you to text her every hour and watch your behavior around the Kims in her absence. After a string of “yes”, “I know”, and “I will”s, you hung up the phone, shaking your head.

You shoved the device in your pocket and hightailed it to the nearest bathroom, wanting to splash some water on your face before returning to class.

Jimin smirked at your retreating figure, taking his own phone out and tapping out a message. Once he received the response he was looking for, he tucked his phone away, brightened his facial expression, and opened the door to the classroom.

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

The moment had finally arrived: the end of the school day.

Mana watched on pitifully as you packed your books away, Jimin standing patiently above you.

Perhaps it was a bit dramatic to feel so scared, but as far as you or Mana knew, this was the first time someone was (willingly) going over to the Kim’s house. And for something as simple as a school project, no less.

“Alright then...we’re off!” you told your best friend, swinging your bag over your shoulder and tugging them into a hug. 

“Good luck on your project! Hope you guys find what you’re looking for,” Mana said, squeezing your midsection painfully tight. “See you tomorrow morning.” They smiled at Jimin, who acknowledged them with a small grin.

You nodded, stepping out from behind the desk and followed Jimin out the classroom. 

As soon as he had one toe out the door, however, he was tackled by a blurry figure with neck length, curly, dark hair. Jimin, whose surprise quickly turned into glee, wrapped his arms around the figure. “Taehyungie!”

The sudden motion made you pause in the doorway, one breath away from knocking your head into Jimin’s back. 

“I missed you today! I hate the fact that Mr. Burham made you switch classes--we always stick together!” Kim Taehyung pressed his face into Jimin’s neck, but you managed to hear the words he spoke. Jimin chuckled.

“We live together, Taehyung ah, we’d see each other regardless!” 

Taehyung lifted his face from his brother’s neck, brittle brown eyes glancing up to meet yours. You felt intimidated by the loss of the sparkle they’d held, but raised a hand to smile and wave at him regardless. “Hi...”

“Oh, Tae! Let me introduce you two.” Jimin hauled his little brother off of him and pulled the two of you by the hand out the doorway so that other students could leave. “(Y/N), this is Taehyung, one of my younger brothers. Tae, this is (Y/N). Mrs. Hargrove assigned us a project on a mythological creature and she’s my partner, so she’ll be coming home with us today to start research.”

You stood against the wall, a polite smile on your face. Taehyung was staring at you with a deadpan expression on his face, assessing you. You didn’t know much about the qualifications of this test, but you assumed it was crucial that you passed it.

All too quickly, his face broke out into a large grin and he swept you into his arms. You grunted at the force with which he pressed you into his chest. “Nice to meet you, (Y/N)!” 

“Um, nice to meet you too...”

“Tae, you can’t just touch her without her permission!” Jimin pulled Taehyung off of you, smiling apologetically. You waved it off, gaping at both of them as they rehashed their day for the other.

The two brothers chatted happily, arms around each other’s shoulders as they ambled through the halls and out the front door of the school. Students sent you scandalized glances as you trailed behind them, but you were too busy updating your mother to pay attention. When you finally looked up, you saw Jimin and Taehyung leading you to a large, sleek, black van. 

Is this what getting abducted in broad daylight feels like?

 But you recognized this car. This was the Kim’s family car, driven by a hired professional to take their five children to school and back. You’d seen it many a times in the morning with your mother.

Students whispered as the three juniors approached the vehicle while you cautiously eyed the three figures that stood in front of it.

Kim Jungkook, the school’s most talented freshman. He’d already made high marks in all of the clubs he’d joined, with special attention to the music and sports club. He was so talented in boxing that the Kims, already large beneficiaries of the school, had given the director the money to start and finance the new boxing club. 

Kim Hoseok, the captain of the dance team with an academic prowess that was second to only one person in the whole school. He’d taken your school dance team to nationals and, although very kind to the general student body, it was not lost on everyone how exhausted the members of his team would be in competition season. No one in after school activities could forget the sound of him sounding out beats or barking orders through the halls during rehearsals.

And finally, Kim Namjoon. The president of the Association for the Student Body and resident academic genius. He’d held the top scores for every class he’d been in since freshman year. The school trophy case was jokingly nicknamed “Namjoon’s Bureau” after the amount of awards that had his name on them. 

Never would you have guessed that you would be meeting not one, but all five of the Kim siblings--on the same day, no less.

“Oh ho, Jiminie,” Hoseok teased as you approached, ruffling his little brother’s hair. “Who’s this?”

Be still, my beating heart--

“Hello! I’m (Y/N), a classmate of Jimin’s. It’s nice to meet you all.” You greeted them with a sharp, but quick bow.

“We were assigned a project to research a mythological creature.”Jimin clung to Namjoon by the arm while he and Jungkook were busy staring at you. “Namjoon hyung, would you help us find the books Dad once showed us in the library? The ones with all the lore and stories?” 

On the outside, this felt like a normal day of being introduced to an acquaintance’s family members. 

On the inside, however, you were reminded of the purple flames that stole Natalia’s existence from this mortal plane in mere seconds every time you looked one of the older Kim siblings in the eyes.

Jungkook merely looked curious, doe eyes wide in surprise. But Namjoon...

Even though they were adopted, Namjoon held the same crazed, righteous look in his eyes that Kim Moonsik would have whenever he announced the next tribute for Wylynne’s army.

“I’d be happy to find them for you guys,” Namjoon grinned at you.

You “smiled” back.

That was a grimace...that was a definitely a grimace. You seriously needed to work on your facial expressions around them.

Hoseok opened the car door, sliding into the very back with Jungkook and Taehyung while Jimin leapt for the window seat. This left you between him and his older brother, and you fought the urge to groan aloud.

Once inside the car, Namjoon alerted the driver that everyone was present and the man took off without another word. While he was distracted, you lowered your phone brightness and updated your mother again on your location.

“So, (Y/N), how was your day?” You jerk your head up and turn towards the voice, Hoseok questioning you while still wearing that ear-splitting grin. 

“It was alright! I met Jimin this morning and then we attended classes and lunch...” you said, fiddling with the power button on your phone. 

Hoseok and Taehyung continued to ask you a few more questions, like your favorite color and artists, about your classes and any future career plans. Jimin would cut in every so often with a statement or question of his own, and Jungkook and Namjoon simply watched on quietly as the conversation took place.

You leaned your head on the space between the headrests of the seats, tilting it to the right. You thought this morning’s fatigue had been chased away by the excitement of the day, but it was actually resting, lying in wait for the moment where you would put your guard down.

As much as you wanted to avoid it, the rumbling of the AC and comfort provided by the plush, leather seats caused the background noise in the car to fade before disappearing completely.

Jungkook seemed to be the only one to notice your breathing slow. “She’s asleep.”

Any and all conversation that had been taking place shut down immediately as they all gazed at your figure. 

At some point in your sleep, you started to shiver from the temperature of the AC. Jungkook quickly peeled off his school sweater and handed it to Jimin, who pouted slightly as he draped it over your form. 

They watched the slow rise and fall of your chest and listened to the soft breathing noises you let out in your sleep. The world outside was forgotten, and for a few, precious moments it was only you and them.