warnings: i yap way too much and go off topic. i genuinely think that's the only warning. like, i barely get to the actual headcanons. this is sooo messy. sorry to anyone who wanted actual headcanons, i don't have anyone to yap with, so im subjecting you all to it. maybe some suggestive stuff, but like, nothing crazy or explicit. i think i call taeyang slutty but like, it's not in a mean way, i promise. yes, i am daesung biased.
a/n: i've been a vip since 2015, but my obsession came back in full force after the mama performance. glad ya'll are coming to enjoy these old ass men like i do. also, im tryna make my posts more aesthetic. are we fucking with it or what?
more under the cut!
ŕźş jiyong
the og sugar daddy fr. TRUST when i say that this man will get you anything and everything you ask for. he is OBSESSED with you. even if you think it's too much, he's just like "who do u think i am? nothing is too much for u đ" honestly, he's the sweetest guy. especially current-day jiyong. he likes to decorate your place with various paintings and projects that he's made himself. that being said- he doesn't just buy you beautiful expensive gifts- he also loves to gift you cool little handmade things, or one-of-a-kind items of clothing that he designed specifically for you. as for the future of you and him?? marriage?? kids?? living together forever and ever till death do you part?? maybe!! honestly, idk if mr. kwon jiyong is the type of guy to get married, but i think he deserves to be with someone who'll be there for the long run. whether that be marriage, or just a long-term partnership. i can also see him being a fantastic dad omfgggggg. literally every clip i've seen of him with kids, he just treats them so sweetly and gently, i just know he'd be the best dad đ so yeah, i luv him and he deserves the world.
ŕźş seunghyun
did someone say DILF MATERIAL???? (it was me, i did.) GUYS I WANT THAT OLD(er) MAN SO BADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD. okay, i know he's not that old but i'm like, 18. everyone is old to me. that is soooo besides the point, so imma just get into it. istg people are tryna paint this man as a domineering personality. but like... this guy is peak shy silly introvert. AND THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT. I LOVE IT. i just know that this man would ask for your help putting together his outfits in the mornings he had a press conference or interview, and you'd hype him up and he'd get all shy and silly. (i'm going insane) now, if i remember correctly, i think i saw an interview of him saying that he doesn't want to have kids bc he doesn't think he'd be a good dad. but like...i think if he did have kids, he'd literally be the cutest dad everrrrrrr đ like, his kid would come home from kindergarten or whatever and show him a picture they colored, and he'd act like it was an absolute masterpiece and put in on the fridge and everything. also, i'm convinced that he'd be the best most romantic husband on the planet!! like, he'd go all out for anniversaries, and birthdays, and valentines day...like, he'd make reservations at a nice restaurant, buy you a beautiful sentimental gift, and KSJHGFLKJDGHODGUIHDGJKLDGJKD i just love thinking about him, but imma stop here so i don't yap for too long đĽ˛
ŕźş taeyang
min hyorin, i want your husband. okay, being fr though, we all know that taeyang is a ROMANTIC. THIS MAN IS A D1 YEARNER. he would do literally anything and everything for his partner. in the wise wise words of shinee, he's got romantic in his heart. frfr. honeslty, "headcanoning" him feels kind of strange, bc we already been KNOWN that this man is one of the best living examples of husband-material out there!! but for the sake of fanfic, we'll briefly cast out real-world knowledge from our minds. now, let me yap. this man is the type to wake you up in the morning with breakfast in bed and a kiss on the forehead. not even kidding. i just know he would. he wouldn't tell you the exact time and day he's coming home from tour, so him walking through the door can be a surprise for you every time (he'd come with gifts too, omfg) ofc marriage and kids are 100% on the table with him. now, it's easy to say that bc we all know that irl he has a beautiful little family. but in fanfic world, it still would be!! he's always given off family-man vibes to me, idk about ya'll! yeah, he stays slutting it out on stage, but knows where home is đ
ŕźş daesung
sometimes babygirl is a 35 year old man named kang daesung. for real though, if you've read my smaus about this man, you would know that i see him as a silly little millennial man who barely knows how to work a phone. (probably true, actually) now, don't get me wrong, he may be a silly little guy, but he is FINEEEEEE AS FUCKKKK. i can just imagine it now omfg, he's the type of guy to do the arm thing while backing out of a parking spot, ykwim?? like, where he'd put his arm over the back of the passenger seat and LEANNNNNN to look out the back window?? i think i'm just obsessed with his arms. it's okay. i'm okay. i can move on from this (i can't). now, i feel like this man is notorious for being the single most extroverted introvert on the planet. like, he's so hyped up and silly when he's filming his show and on stage, but then i imagine at the end of the day, he comes home, and just wants to be taken care of and cuddled. omfg. social battery DRAINEDDDDDD he's just like me frfr. speaking of coming home at the end of the day, did someone say HUSBAND MATERIALLL????? I DID. I DEFINITELY DID. i honestly think that although he's super goofy and out there, he might just be one of the top contenders for the top spot on the husband material tier list amongst these guys. i can just see him being wholly and completely devoted to his partner, learning to cook their favorite dishes, and treating them like they hang the sun and moon and all that. ALSO, absolutely would be a fantastic dad. like, he'd be the goofiest, sweetest, most understanding dad on the planet. also another that would support his kid in everything and anything they did. buying all the materials needed for whatever hobby or sport they're interested in, and cheering them on every step of the way. i can't go on any longer bc this will end up being WAY too long. but yeah. daesung rules.
donât mind meâŚjust dropping my revised masterlist đ¤ I spent so long tryna make her cute⌠the longer I spend on here the more I realized my other one wasnât cutting it đĽ¸
Welcome to my new n improved Masterlist! Here are some key things to know when browsing the menu for your next meal!
᯽ = sfw / fluff ęĽ = nsfw / smut
Reminder: These are just overarching themes for any work listed, please take caution and read any warnings on the individual fics before divulging!
If you want to send in a request and arenât familiar with what I write, you can check out my request rules section on my intro post!
Want to be notified every time I post?! Comment on this post here or any other post to let me know ya wanna be on the tag list!
Enjoy some light reads with drabbles!
Messy nâ Wet (Se-Mi x Fem!Reader) ęĽ
Personal Photographer (Kwon Jiyong x Fem!Reader) ᯽
Worshiped Completely (Kwon Jiyong x Chubby!Fem!Reader) ęĽ
Teaching A Robotic Penguin New Tricks?! (Choi Seunghyun x Reader) ᯽
Done Went and Fucked the Plug (Plug!Thanos / Choi Subong x Fem!Reader) ęĽ
Headâs Best When Stoned (Thanos / Choi Subong x Fem!Reader) ęĽ
15 Minute Lunch Break (Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader) ęĽ
Dates with Nam-Gyu (Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader) ᯽
And They Were Roommates (Roommate!Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader) ᯽
Mid-Game Anger Relief (Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader) ęĽ
Drugs, Sex and a Headlock?! (Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader) ęĽ
Multi-Part / Multi-Version fics for you to divulge in!
Now Streaming⌠| a series of oneshots about your streamer lover getting a bit too much attention from fangirls ᯽
- Thanos / Nam-Gyu / Se-Mi
Kiwiâs 1k Event | I made it to 1k! Celebrate with me with 10 drabbles back to back! ᯽ / ęĽ
Producer!Fem!Reader x Thanos | various oneshots revolving around Producer!Reader and Thanosâ less than professional connection ęĽ
- Pill Poppinâ!! / LIVEâŚIn the Studio
Third Times a Charm | Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader smut series. You first meet him at a club. After one taste heâs hooked. And, not-so coincidentally, heâs running into you two more times. ęĽ
Pay Per View | Nam-Gyu x CamGirl!Reader smut series. Obsessed with his favorite camgirl and in debt that no one could imagine, Nam-Gyu finds himself in some fucked yo death games with the pretty camgirl heâs been so enamored with
- full master list is linked above ^
Itâs Just Business, Baby | The Salesman / Recruiter x Recruiter!Fem!Reader smut series. youâre the new hire that he hates with a passion. Heâs always in competition with you. When you enrage him so much he begins to track you down, trying to find you outside of work, you play along. ęĽ
- Workplace Conflict 1:4 / Overtime 2:4 / After Hours 3:4 / Professional Provocation 4:4
Whatâs Better Than One Boyfriend?! Two Boyfriends!! | ThanGyu x Fem!Reader collection of my thinks on the dynamic between reader / thanos / namgyu. Both in the games and out of games au ᯽ / ęĽ
- one / two
Want a shorter or one off read?? Here are some One-Shots!!! (Organized by character)
Illumoria | Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader
When Nam-Gyu puts an ad up for a new roommate he didnât expect someone like you to answer it ęĽ / ᯽
Proper Apology | Sub!Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader
Nam-Gyu has come home late too many times and doesnât ever keep to his apologies- time to show him how to properly apologize ęĽ
After Work Relaxation | Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader
Nam-gyu has a stressful job as a club promoter, thankfully he has his pretty girlfriend to help him relax after a bad day ęĽ
You Can Take It | Mean!Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader
Youâve seemed to have captured the attention of Nam-Gyu so much so there was an unspoken rule that you were his, one you had no idea about ęĽ
Like âem Weird | Loser!Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader
Thereâs just somethinâ delicious about the socially awkward and standoffish guy youâve been seeing in the club. ęĽ
Introvert Meets Innocence | Awkward!Nam-Gyu x Innocent!Fem!Reader
After Thanos and your friend decide they have had enough of you and Nam-Gyu acting like nervous high schoolers talking to their crush, they treat you like high schoolers; locking you in a room for a round of â60â minutes in heaven. ęĽ
Reckless Temptation | Bum!BabyDaddy!Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader
Youâve had enough of Nam-gyuâs shit! He never helps you with your daughter and can barely pay you rent. You finally confront him late at night after he comes home shitfaced. Sure youâre mad and yelling in his face, but he doesnât hear you. He canât stop thinking about how pregnancy made curvier, how your breasts were larger, and how badly he wants to fuck you senseless. ęĽ
Etched in Ink | Nam-Gyu x Pierced!TattooArtist!Fem!Reader
After asking Thanos about where he goes for his tattoos, Nam-Gyu schedules an appointment with you. He had no idea youâd be so fucking hot. ęĽ
Play Thing | Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader
One of his favorite things to do with you is just play with you. So, when he buys you a fun new toy he makes sure you get good use out of it and that he got his moneys worth. ęĽ
Unlikely Partnership | Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader
Waking up in a warehouse with 400 some odd players. Nam-Gyu doesnât understand why he keeps getting pulled towards you. ᯽
Needa Fix? | Nam-Gyu x Dealer!Fem!Reader
Broke as fuck and in need of something to keep these horrible withdrawal symptoms, he turns to his favorite plug, you, for help ęĽ
Perfect Match | Nam-Gyu x Nympho!Fem!Reader
Gooner Nam-Gyu is insatiable. Thank god he has his perfect lilâ nymphomanic gf to help him try out whatever fantasies he has! ęĽ
Blood and Sweat | Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader
You get a bloody nose during sexâŚ.And Nam-Gyu is far from disgusted ęĽ
Captured In Low Resolution | Thanos x Fem!Reader
Thanos has pictures of you everywhere. You finally inquire about the shitty, low res picture he has on his computer monitor ᯽
Suck âem Dry! | Thanos x Fem!Reader
When you meet the egotistic, purple haired rapper he was so confident heâd be the one to ruin youâŚyou decide to flip the switch and ruin him by givinâ him some crazy head ęĽ
Full of Surprises | Thanos x Fem!Reader
Youâre the star student on college campus, good grades, great attendance- the first person Thanos knew he would see in class and the last person he would expect to see smoking weed behind the college football stadium ᯽
Wired Up! | High!Thanos x Fem!Reader
Taking some new drug Nam-Gyu gave him, Thanos is oh-so needy. Leaving a music set early, all he can think about is getting his hands on his pretty gf ęĽ
Passed Around | ThanGyu x Fem!Reader
Smoke seshes with your boyfriends always end up this wayâŚyouâre passed around like the blunt you all were smoking ęĽ
More to Love, Double the Fun | ThanGyu x Thick!Fem!Reader
While at a party you want nothing more than to go home. The two of them scout you and answer your pleas; you just donât go to your home. ęĽ
The Happiest of Birthdays! | ThanGyu x Fem!Reader
All about how Thanos and Nam-Gyu celebrate their favorite girlâs birthday ᯽
Finish it all off with some scrumptious Headcannons
How Nam-Gyu acts when youâre sick ᯽ / ęĽ
Streamer Nam-Gyu ᯽ / ęĽ
Nam-Gyu with big titty gf ᯽ / ęĽ
Nam-Gyu with big ass gf ᯽ / ęĽ
Boyfriends Thanos and Nam-Gyu when youâre ovulating / on period ᯽ / ęĽ
the name that was plastered on sold out arenas every week.
g-dragon.
the name that fans screamed at the top of their lungs, cheering on their favorite idol.
kwon jiyong.
the man who teared up every night because even in his penthouse that would have anyoneâs jaw on the floor, he spent the hours under the moon alone in empty sheets.
the man who loved love, loved being in love, but couldnât find someone to love.
the man who looked in the mirror and tried so desperately to see the idol everyone loved and cared about, but only saw a loser staring back at him.
for the first few years of his career, none of the other bigbang boys needed a relationship â they were too busy for one anyway. performing history-changing stages was the main attraction for the quad.
at most, g-dragon got into little flings here and there, sneaking off to secluded rooms at release parties, drinking just enough to feel good and keep the good vibes going.
in the mornings, he would lay in piles of scattered blankets, clothes, and- wait, was that a condom?
âwell, at least i was smart enough to use one.â is what he said to himself, anything to try to justify the previous nightâs fling that become nothing but a distant memory by morning
when the band grew up, it started to become painfully obvious that unlike jiyong, the other boys were looking for more in life than just music and one night stands. they needed something, someone, that would last a lifetime.
it started with taeyang and min hyo-rin.
sitting side by side with daesung and seunghyun, the trio happily applauded as taeyang and his soon-to-be wife walked down the aisle, eyes gleaming with happiness for their bandmate
all throughout the reception, between glasses of downed alcohol and meaningless banter, there was something that hammered at the back of jiyongâs chest as he watched the newlyweds experience some of their firsts together. not as boyfriend and girlfriend, but husband and wife.
a want, a desire, a need
I want to love and be loved like that too
a dangerous thought, really. one that jiyong pushed to the back of his mind, sealing it away with a few more glasses of champagne.
days later, jiyong put everything into his music, letting g-dragon take over to create tracks that were sure to fly off the charts.
that night, he swore off yearning for love. music was all he needed, right?
the next stage g-dragon took, he was at an all time high. performing with raw emotion and a fire behind his eyes, it was no wonder fans rushed to the barricade to cheer him on, screaming until their throats went raw.
on the group drive to the after party, g-dragon scrolled through clips of the bandâs performance. his eyes focused on his movements, as if he was picking apart every last part of the act he put on for his fans, for his career.
âyou did well tonight man, you always doâ seunghyun complimented, patting him on the back
with a flashy but nevertheless half-hearted smile, he accepted the compliment. âif only you knew how much of an act this all isâ he thought to himself, but he only thanked is bandmate as a response.
that night, all eyes were on daesung who casually strolled in with a girl on his arm, who he introduced as his childhood best friend. both of them wore gleaming smiles as they announced their relationship to the crowd, entertaining questions of how they got together, and even fawning over nostalgic memories the two shared together.
this stirred that feeling in jiyongâs chest once again.
even in the crowded party, walls ringing with music, jiyong felt alone.
the self-loathing thoughts came crashing in like tidal waves, and for a moment, the loneliness was all he could think of.
every day he would wake up in an empty bed, completing his morning routine in deafening silence. when going out, he had to keep his head down if he wanted to avoid the masses of flashing cameras and mics shoved down his throat.
when he heard his own tracks that were praised by many, all he could think of is how most of it was an act. pretend. it was g-dragon who took over when kwon jiyong was at his lowest, not kwon jiyong.
as an attempt to work himself out of his funk, jiyong started to spend more time alone, trying to convince him that he was enough company for himself. he went on runs, tried new styles, anything to make him feel like himself again.
taking seunghyunâs recommendation, he even became a regular at a cafe not too far from his own place. jiyong often sat in the corner, sporting a mask and sunglasses just in case someone recognized him.
âone iced americano pleaseâ he ordered, keeping his eyes low on the counter as he paid
âi assume youâll be taking the booth in the back again right, mystery man?â a crisp voice chirped, cutting through his ears.
for a brief moment, jiyongâs eyes flicked up to meet yours, your warm smile shining through his sunglasses.
âyeah, iâll be thereâ he replied, shakily âhowâd you know?â he questioned, his mind starting to fill with anxieties
âwell youâre the only one who comes in dressed like thatâ you replied gesturing to his disguise, a pair or jeans and a hoodie
âand nobody really wears sunglasses inside yâknowâ you quipped, giggling lightly at your own joke
for the first time in what felt like days, jiyong laughed along with you.
âgo take your seat, iâll bring your drink out to you in a fewâ you beamed, gesturing to the open booth in the back
grinning under his mask, jiyong uttered a quick thanks before sliding into the booth, scrolling through instagram to pass the time. fans were already gushing about daesungâs relationship, fawning over how the two were in a love so sweet, it gave them cavities. with a soft sigh, jiyong simply shook his head.
good things come to those who wait, right?
âone iced americano for the mystery manâ a joyful voice rang out in front of him, snapping him from his thoughts as you placed his drink in front of him
âso what, are you like a celebrity or something that you have to wear these everyday?â you giggled, gesturing as if you had sunglasses and a mask of your own
shaking his head, jiyong cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders âi guess you could say something like thatâ
tilting your head to the side in confusion, you couldnât wrap your mind around his answer âmeaning? you either are or you arenât oneâ you say, thinking out loud
taking a brief pause, jiyong mentally laughed at himself. oversharing to strangers? thatâs a new one.
âto the world i may be one, but to myself, im just a celebrity in a losers bodyâ he said, rubbing his temple
you nodded slowly as you processed his answer, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. âi kinda get it, thereâs always a side to you that only you can seeâ you murmured again.
jiyongâs ears perked up at your response.
exactly. thatâs exactly what i mean. he thought to himself, but he only nodded in agreement mumbling a soft âyeah, you get itâ
ây/n! stop flirting and get back to the register!â a voice called out to you, causing your face to flush in embarrassment
âokay boss, be there in a sec!â you answered, giving jiyong a sheepish smile. âsee ya again soon, mystery man!â you exclaimed before turning on your heel and speeding back off to your post
with an amused hum, jiyong watched behind his sunglasses as you did your job. talking to customers, preparing drinks, even having small chatter with your coworkers with the occasional glance in his direction.
maybe he should start visiting more often
â彥
a HUGE thank you to @makeitworse for inviting me to be a part of this event! this was my first time to take a shot at writing for g-dragon, and the creative process was veeery interesting to experience and i loved the challenge that came along with it!
i hope this isnât too ooc, but everyones interpretations of who they write for are different, so i hope you guys enjoy mine!
G-Dragon x AFAB! Reader
Synopsis: Tensions between you and your brother's best friend come to a head.
Warnings: SMUT, unprotected p in v (wrap it!!), fingering, oral (both receiving), pet names, a little bit of Dom Jiyong, teasing, not a lot of fluff, some angst i think.
Prompt 10 "Yeah, keep telling yourself that"
A/N: Thank you so much for all the love and support. Be aware, smut writing may get a little slower as it's starting to feel repetitive for me, so I might need breaks. Thank you for 100 followers! I hope you guys enjoy the event. To be tagged in the event or future fics please comment (specify which one please)
Being Choi Seunghyunâs little sister comes with itâs fair share of⌠situations. Cameraâs taking pictures, fanâs wanting to know how heâs doing or wanting pictures, living in his shadow a little, but it wasnât as bad as some would think.
You definitely took advantage of the perks. Free stuff, PR packages when you promised to review products, getting to travel the world with him when he could bring you on tour and the new family you made in Daesung and Youngbae.
However, Jiyong, Jiyong wasnât a brother to you at all and you didnât want him to be. When you first met the guys, you thought he was cute. Youâd get nervous around him and he could tell, teasing you playfully every so often, and chuckling whenever he noticed you shrink back into your shell. That was years ago though.
But, your feelings hadnât gone away, neither had the teasing and as much as you tried to tell yourself you didnât like him, that he was some big star who wouldnât look at you twice, your feelings couldnât be denied.
You walk into the apartment, Jiyong sitting on the couch scrolling on his phone. He doesnât peek up from his phone; he knows its you.
âWhereâs my brother?â your voice comes off a little colder than you mean for it to. But to be honest, you thought the best way to get over your little crush was to be cold and short, even if your heart does a skip a beat when you see him. Jiyong had grown accustom to this, not letting it phase him.
âOut getting food,â he mumbles as he scrolls on his phone. You purse your lips and nod, taking your things to your room.
You walk back out of your room only to be met by your brotherâs best friend.
âUh, excuse you,â you try to say and he just smirks. You roll your eyes trying to move around him but he blocks you. Your feet attempt to carry you the other way but he moves in sync with you. You sigh flustered by his actions, accompanied with an eye roll and light pink cheeks.
âYou go this way,â you point to your left, âand Iâll go this way,â you say pointing to your right.
You go to move right and he follows you again, a cocky smile finding itâs way onto his face.
Smug.
âJiyong, seriously, get out of my way,â You attempt to gently push him to the side, but he gently catches your wrists. He walks toward you, backing you up against the wall.
âHow long are we gonna do this, hmm? Dance around each other like thereâs nothing here,â His eyes pierce into you, voice dripping with desire. His eyes search yours, flicking down to your lips before going back up.
âWhat are you talking about?â Your voice comes out slightly shaky and you try to calm your hammering heart.
âThis little song and dance we do. Well, that you do,â he corrects himself, âWhere you act like you canât stand me.â
âI canât,â you say with your head held high but Jiyong just chuckles at you. He lets go of your wrists, hands caging you in against the wall.
He leans in, lips barely touching your ear, âYeah keep telling yourself that,â he chuckles as you swallow the lump in your throat. You would swear your heartbeat was the loudest thing in the room.
âSeunghyun will be home any minute,â you go to protest but he cuts you off.
âYou think I canât see it,â his brow quirks at the question, âHow you look at me when you donât think Iâm watching.â
You roll your eyes, âWith disgust and disdain?â The words come out snarky, proud and totally see through. He tuts, leaning his forehead in so close itâs almost touching yours.
âWith lust and desire,â his voice is low, teasing, a hand falls to your hip as his body now presses against yours. Youâre looking just past him, trying not to stare at his lips.
âI can sense how I make you feel,â he whispers once again in your ear; an obvious shiver runs down your spine making your body shake under him. You take a breath, his cologne hitting your nostrils, soft but spicy. His eyes rake up and down your body.
âHow nervous you get when I walk into the room, the way your face,â he brushes your cheek with the back of his knuckles, âblushes when my eyes linger a little too long,â he smirks.
âOh, just like that,â he teases with a smug grin as the crimson tint paints your cheeks as if on que. The smell of his cologne and cigarettes mixing as you inhale every breath has you intoxicated.
âCome on, y/n, you know your heart races anytime youâre near me,â he puts his hand on your chest feeling the faint thud thatâs hammering in your ears.
âSee?â He draws out. You inhale another shaky breath. His hand still rests on your face while the other dares not to move from your chest.
You arenât sure who leans in first, who starts it or where you both begin or end, but your lips find each other, hot, needy and messy, no rhyme or rhythm. Teeth knocking, tongues fighting and your body betrays you by pulling him closer by his shirt. Your senses dull for a moment, practically drunk on his lips.
His lips are soft against yours, despite the pressure of his mouth. His tongue darts between your lips, small whimpers being swallowed by his mouth as they escape yours.
You can feel him smirk against the kiss.
âCocky bastard,â you mumble. He chuckles against you.
âYou love it,â he mumbles as his hands run up and down your sides, your arms around his neck.
Before anything can go any further, Seunghyunâs key is in the lock. You gasp against him and push him off you. Both of your lips are swollen; Jiyongâs smirk ever present. Just as Seunghyun shuts the door, he looks at the two of you with a raised brow.
âEverything ok in here?â Jiyong wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
âGreat, y/n was just showing me mouth to mouth," his eyes flit to you, "With us going to the Maldives, it could be a useful skill.â He chuckles, noting the pink tinted flesh of your face.
âI didnât know you knew the kiss of life,â Seunghyun remarks as he sets the food out. You roll your eyes as Jiyong stifles a full-on laugh. You swat his arm as you walk past him into the kitchen.
Seunghyun hands you your food and you escape into your room.
The rest of the night you can hear Jiyong and your brother laughing, shouting at the tv, and over all having a really good time. You huff as you leave your room, trying to walk out confidently in your all too revealing pjâs.
You pass them into the kitchen to grab a drink when you hear your brotherâs voice.
âGrab me a bottle of wine, would you?â Jiyong walks into the kitchen, noting your short sleep shorts and bites his bottom lip, the way it hugs your hips and ass causing him to grow in his pants.
âSuch a tease,â you stiffen as his hands come to your hips, lips next to your ear.
âWearing that for me, all innocent looking,â he groans softly in your ear, your resolve buckling quickly as you feel a slight heat between your legs.
âItâs like your begging me to fuck you right here, with your brother in the next room,â his tongue darts out over your ear and your eyes flutter close with your mouth parting ever so slightly, a slight exhale leaving your lips.
He places a feather-like kiss to your neck, a small gasp escaping you as his tongue licks a small strip of skin.
He chuckles darkly as he, hesitantly, lets you go and grabs your brother the wine he requested. He takes one last look at you before shaking his head with a smile and walking back into the living room. You take a moment to steady yourself, chugging the water in your glass.
You walk back to your room, biting a smile back the whole time.
-
Later that night you get a knock on your door. You open and it and before he can be stopped Jiyong shoves his way into your room, pinning you against the back of your door. His breathing is heavy, pupils are slightly enlarged and his heart is pounding against his chest.
He takes your hand placing it to his chest.
âSee what you do to me, jagiya?â He teases and like usual, a slight blush appears on your cheeks as you draw your bottom lip between your teeth.
âOh, donât go getting shy on me now, baby. You thought you could tease me and get away with it?â He nibbles on your ear lobe. A shiver runs down your spine as you feel the muscles in your stomach tighten at his touch, slightly arching into him.
âI wasnât teasing you,â you try to defend your outfit choice but it earns you a slight slap to your clothed core. You yelp is surprise before Jiyongâs hand goes to your mouth.
âDonât lie to me,â he warns, âand be quiet. He doesnât know Iâm in here.â He presses a kiss just below your ear and you squirm underneath him.
He presses another kiss to the same spot, this one open mouthed as his tongue darts out wetting the spot before closing his lips around it. A soft moan leaves his lips.
âYou smell so good,â he mumbles against your skin.
âBet you taste so much better,â he whispers as his hand travels up you thigh, ghosting over you.
âDonât tease me,â you whimper, hands clinging to his shirt.
âI thought you couldnât stand me,â he teases.
âFuck me,â you groan in frustration into his shoulder.
âOh, I plan on it,â he chuckles as his hands slip under your tank top, helping you pull it over your head. Your cheeks flush. Youâd imagined the scenario a hundred, maybe even a million times, but now that itâs happening it doesnât feel real. Itâs like a dream.
He groans at the sight.
âFuck,â he breathes as his hands come up to cup your chest, thumbs brushing over your nipples. You bite back a moan, your lip between your teeth. His hands are warm, soft and easy and as they caress you. Jiyongâs lips connect to yours, pulling your bottom lip gently between his teeth, before he removes his own shirt. He notices your hands twitching at your sides and he takes one hand, dragging in down his chest. He smiles at the way your fingers grasp at his toned skin. He pulls you to the bed, gently pushing you down against it, kissing down your neck, love bites being left in his wake.
His tongue swirls around your hardened nipple, another soft gasp leaving you. Jiyong looks up at you through your lashes, watching your face as it contorts in pleasure. Your eyes are closed, the feeling of his tongue obvious against your warm skin.
Your hands find his hair, nails scratching slightly against the scalp.
He flattens his tongue, running it over your nipple, the sensation sending little pleasure signals to your already wet pussy. Your hips shift, brushing his pelvis and he smirks.
âSomoneâs needy,â he teases.
âJiyong, come on.â Your words are a clear sign of desperation.
âAh, ah, ah, donât rush me. Iâm savoring every,â he places a kiss to your sternum, âsingle,â he places another one just below the first, âsecond,â he places a third one just below your breast line.
His tongue darts out, leaving more open-mouthed kisses down to the waistband of your shorts. His cock is angry, red, and leaking into his boxers; a damp patch making it obvious. Heâs thought about how good you taste a million times, and now that he gets to find out, he can hardly contain his excitement.
He slowly hooks his fingers into your shorts and panties and pulls them down. He looks down at your exposed flesh, tongue wetting his lips in anticipation.
âTell me to stop and I will,â he warns before settling between your legs.
He gives you only a second to protest before heâs kissing up your leg. He leaves little love bites on your thighs, some of them guaranteed to bruise.
âFuck your dripping,â he breathes out and his fingerâs part your folds, collecting some of your arousal. He groans as his cock twitches in his pants.
âSo pretty, and all for me,â he says before he attaches his mouth to your core, sucking your clit between his lips. You gasp as your back automatically arches off the bed, legs bent slightly up.
âFuck,â you breathe out, his tongue masterfully circles your bud, the pleasure undeniable.
âFeel good, baby?â He smirks already knowing the answer.
âTell me how it feels,â he encourages. Your hips lift against his face, his nose brushing your clit as his tongue laps at you.
âFuck it feels good, so, so good,â your eyes screw shut as your hands travel to his hair.
âGood girl,â he smirks as a finger is slowly inserted. He notices your walls clamp down at the praise.
âOoh, look at that,â he mocks, âYou like be told how good you are. A good little fuck toy,â and your walls once again clamp down with a muffled moan. Your hips rock against his finger.
His tongue starts working on your clit again, this time at lightening speed as his finger curls into that sweet spongey spot that causes your head to spin.
âOh, God,â you moan out, a little too loudly before you clamp a hand on your mouth. He adds another finger, never slowing down. You feel the familiar tightening in your stomach, your body slowly edging into going rigid as your hips flow with his thrusts. You begin gasping and panting as your heart rate speeds up, little flashes of heat intensifying. Your head digs into the mattress, mouth falling open as your eyes screw shut. You place your hand back over your mouth as your orgasm hits, hard, your thighs clamping down against his head.
Your body shakes beneath him and Jiyong moans as he feels your walls clamp down on his fingers. His own cock growing more achingly hard by the second. He doesnât stop, only slows his movements to help you milk every bit of pleasure form this.
âThat was so hot,â he whispers to himself once your body goes still, watching your breasts move up and down as you regain control of your breathing. He brings himself up to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself. Your hand goes up to him, palming his clothed cock in your hands.
âWords, baby,â he smirks.
âWant it,â you say muffled against his lips.
âEarn it,â he says before shifting onto his back. He watches as your exposed body crawls over on top of him. You tug his shirt off him, kissing his lips gently, before kissing down his jawline to his neck.
âI wanna feel you,â you whimper in his ear, desperation taking over and Jiyong chews on his bottom lip.
âTaste you,â you continue as your hand travels down his abdomen.
âHear you babble my name because you canât remember anything else but my mouth and dripping pussy.â Your tongue flicks over the shell of his ear and he shivers, barely holding onto his cocky composure.
You leave open mouth kisses down his chest, your bottom lip dragging across the skin of his abdomen as you peer at him through your lashes. Jiyongâs cheeks are slightly flushed as he watches you dance around the hem of his pants. Your fingers graze the skin of his pelvis, and Jiyong could swear he felt electricity.
He raises his hips for you and you watch as he springs out, the tip of his cock angry, leaking and begging for release. He hisses as the cool air hits it, causing the slightest sting. He swallows a moan as you lick your lips.
Slowly your fingers wrap around him, Jiyongâs fists are all ready in the sheets beneath him.
You slide your hand up to the head, collecting some of the precum and smearing over him. You watch his body shift underneath you, the way his stomach muscles contract with each pump, the way his eyes flutter shut when you start to find a consistent rhythm. The way it sounds when he gasps because he wasnât expecting your tongue to go to his slit so quickly. You wrap your lips around him, cheeks already hollowed out as you slide down on his cock. A choked out moan leaving his mouth. His hand goes over his mouth, remembering Seunghyun is in the room across the hall.
âFuck, baby,â he groans as you swirl your tongue around him, your eyes closed and the only thought in your head being his pleasure. His hips gently lift off the bed when he feels your hand go to play with his balls.
âAh, fuck you feel so good,â your thighs squeeze together at the praise, another flood of heat in your core.
âFuck you look so good like this,â he says as his hands come to hold your hair out of your face, making a ponytail. You begin to move faster, a tiny bit of your teeth scrape him and he gasps, the feeling unexpected. Your nose meets his pelvis with each time you sink down, the salty taste of him being left on your tongue.
âMm, fuck, Iâm close,â he groans, âGonna cum down that pretty little throat of yours.â He grunts as his muscles go taut. You brace yourself on his thighs, your head starting to spin from how fast your moving, slight gagging filling the room. You feel his cock twitch on your tongue, and after another moment you feel the hot, sticky, salty taste go down your throat. Jiyong is bent over, his lips against your hair as he releases.
âFuck, y/n, that was so good, made me feel so damn good.â He whispers helplessly into your hair like a man wrecked from head to toe. You sit there for a moment while he regains his composure.
Slowly his hands find your arms, silently, and he pulls you to him, lips crashing together in fervor.
He leans back slowly, your body following as he helps you position your hips above him.
Without a word, you slowly sink down onto him, the stretch making you gasp and your forehead falls onto his shoulder. He holds you, arms around your body letting you get used to the feeling.
âFuck,â you whisper, the sting almost bringing tears to your eyes.
ââs ok, baby. Take your time,â he whispers into your hair before kissing the side of your head.
After a moment you regain yourself and rock your hips. Jiyong's mouth goes to your shoulder now, teeth sinking into it to keep him from moaning too loud.
âFuck, angel you feel so good,â he grunts as the pleasure hits the both of you, his cock nestled inside your body, hitting that sweet spot with each movement. You brace yourself on his shoulders for balance before you begin to slowly bounce yourself up and down. Jiyong watches as your head tilts back, body slowly falling back wards as you brace onto the mattress, pleasuring yourself on him.
His lips kiss just underneath your bust line, teeth grazing your sweat slick skin. Your mouth hangs open, moans and groans threatening to echo in the room. He pulls you back up to him, capturing your lips as he holds onto your hips, helping you move.
âFuck you feel so good wrapped around my cock,â he groans against your lips. Youâre too far gone for words, only whimpers and moans are heard.
Jiyong can feel how close you are, how your walls keep fluttering around him. He notices your hips loosing rhythm and he starts bucking his hips to meet your, hitting that spot just inside your entrance each time, making you cry out into his shoulder.
âJiyong, Iâm gonna cum,â you whimper and its as if all caution is thrown to the wind as hearing you whimper his name sends him into a feral pace, hips slapping against you, your mouth crying into his neck with pleasure, him concentrated on making sure you get every little bit out of your orgasm.
The wave hits, your body going rigid, hands gripping his neck like an anchor, and your walls grip his cock like a vice. Your toes curl as your body shakes on top of him. Jiyong leaves kisses on your neck trying to help ground you as you ride out the high. His own hits right as yours is coming to and end, breathing coming out in gasps. He buries his head into the crook of your neck, moans and groans coming out as his load shoots up into you.
You hold onto him, your fingers running through the short hair at the nape of his neck. He stills, the two of you sitting together for a breif moment, when he pulls his head from the crook of your neck.
âYou have no idea how long Iâve wanted to do that,â he whispers as he gently moves some of your hair out of your face. A sweet kiss is shared between you before he helps you up, your legs a little wobbly. He grabs his pants, and exists the room, only to come back with a rag damp with warm water.
His hand goes between your legs, gently cleaning you up.
âSo beautiful,â he whispers with a kiss to your thigh as he finishes. He discards of the rag quickly before cuddling up to you in bed.
âYouâll have to be on the couch when he wakes up.â You remind him. Jiyong deflates underneath you.
âI know.â He kisses your forehead. The two of you are silent for a moment as the question hangs in the balance. You get the courage to speak first.
âSo, what does this mean for us?â You can't look a him yet, you're heart going ninety miles an hour, anticipating his response.
âI have no idea,â your eyes meet, neither of you sure where you stand. Thereâs a beat of silence.
âGoodnight,â he says with a kiss to the top of your head, and he leaves the bed to go back to the couch. You watch him walk out, an unknown feeling blooming in your chest.
Genre: Royalty!AU - In honor of the Kingâs return from his military service!
Pairing: Kwon Jiyong (BigBang GDragon) x Reader
Special shout-out and thanks to @noona-clockâ B who is helping me get my writing groove back! đÂ
đ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | Final
There are stories of âOnce Upon A Timesâ and âHappily Ever Afters,â but in reality no ones life goes like that. Life is messy, end of story.
Or I guess it was the start of yours.
You see, life wasnât easy because you had an entire kingdom to rule. Cramelot had seen decades of your family on the throne and the transitions, while never easy, had survived all those years because your family instilled in every generation that you had to fight for what was right, no matter what. Your people respected and loved that about you all.
And that meant that when the neighboring Dragon Empire was allowing their citizens to pillage at your border, you werenât just going to sit back and watch.
"I need to see it for myself,â you said, grabbing your cloak off the hook and shrugging past your advisor, Erin.
âY/N at least take a guard or two with you. Youâre the queen for crying out loud!â
âIâm a queen who has been trained in combat since my dad was able to close my fist around a hilt.â
âAnd a queen who was taught for years not to do anything reckless and to think of the people. If the Dragon Empire is trying to force our hand to start a war, we canât risk losing our Queen who is also our top General.â
You slowed and took a few deep breaths, before turning and yelling âBraxton!â
A man slipped inside the room.Â
âYou yelped, my queen?â
âBraxton, youâre my brother. Iâve said it a million times you donât have to call me that ever, let alone when itâs just family or Erin.â
âY/N is determined to check the border situation herself. I need you to go with her to make sure nothing happens and she doesnât expose herself,â Erin said, ignoring your little tirade to let your brother know what was going on.
âWhen do we leave?â he responded, already securing a dagger to his waist before passing one to you.
âAs soon as we can. I have to hold court this weekend with some prime ministers and word is an envoy from the Dragon Empire is coming, not that they ever send notice. But I canât miss a chance to smooth out whatever is happening over there since the Crown Prince was deposed,â you finished.
âIf youâre not back by nightfall in two days Iâm sending guards out for you. And how will that look to get dragged back for court in front of all those ministers?â Erin said, placing her hands on her hips and staring you down.
âYou know if people heard this conversation theyâd think you were the Queen,â you said, lacing up your boots and checking you had a dagger at your waist and ankle. âI promise weâll be back with an update. Iâm just not going to rely on those border reports anymore. I need to see it myself.â
âBe safe,â Erin called out as you walked by. You nodded and turned to calm her down when you noticed it wasnât you who she was looking at anymore, but Braxton.
All you saw was him giving her a solemn nod as she pulled his hood up before you turned, feeling like an intruder on this intimate moment - and in your own office!
You and Braxton rode through the night, stopping to make camp at dawn to avoid the morning market travelers.Â
âIâm going to go find us something to eat to keep our energy up. Keep an eye on the horses while Iâm gone and clean their hooves. They had a long night and we still have a few hours to go,â you said, grabbing some supplies from your horseâs pack.
âDonât go far. And maybe wash up a bit in the stream,â your brother said, covering up his nose.
You chucked a patch of grass at him and yelled back, âItâs not like you smell like sunshine and roses either!â as you walked away.
You bagged a rabbit for you and your brother to share and even pulled some mushrooms before stopping by the stream. You filled up your pitcher and, when you felt the cool water, you knew you had to wash up.Â
After making sure the coast was clear, you stripped out of your cloak, overshirt, and tights before slipping into the water. You didnât dilly-dally though, scrubbing off the grime from traveling all night. You were back out of the stream and feeling refreshed in no time when you heard it. Leaves rustling and...footsteps?
Someone was definitely running towards the stream.Â
On instinct, you grabbed the knife still strapped to your ankle and hid behind a tree, waiting for the person to step into view. You kept waiting for them to show up when you heard someone speak behind you.
âLooks like youâve got something good there,â a manâs voice said as you felt a sharp point in your back.
Shocked, you threw your elbow back and twisted your wrist to grab the tattooed hand holding the knife, before twisting it and yourself so you now had his arm pulled across his chest in a lock and your own knife at his throat.
His throat that had a really intricate wing tattoo across the back of it? Just who was this guy?
âExcuse me?!!â you shrieked, glad you were behind him to hide your red face.
âWhoa whoa whoa!â he said, immediately releasing his knife and trying to put his hands up. âI meant your bag of food!â
You hesitated for a second, which he must have felt because he flipped his wrist that was still held by your hand to grab you and pull you over his shoulder. Forced to the ground, your knife flew out of your hand and the air out of your lungs as the man put a knee to your chest.
His eyes locked on yours and you got a little distracted, that is until he opened his mouth again.
âNot that you arenât something nice to look at,â he said with a smirk while looking down at youâŚ.a smirk that left as soon as his stomach grumbled.
Your eyebrows shot up and he looked away, so you bucked your hips to get your legs under you and rolled him off of you. You reached and grabbed your cloak to throw it over yourself while he got up, brushing dirt off.
âSo youâre a hungry pervert,â you said, reaching out for your knife again and putting your back against a tree.
âIâm telling you I am not a pervert! Iâm Jiyong, nice to meet you,â he said with what could only be described as a gummy smile. âI was going to nab it when I saw you were in the stream, but you got out faster than I thought you would. Sorry? Didnât realize Iâd get breakfast and a show though,â he continued, swinging the bag of food he had snatched. âWhereâd you learn to fight like that?â
You slipped the dagger back into the sheath at your ankle and stood up carefully, grabbing your clothes to pull on behind a tree while making sure the man stayed where he was.
âWhere I learned isnât what you came here for. Youâve got your food, consider it a gift and be on your way,â you said, slipping into your cloak and securing your second dagger.
âYouâre armed pretty heavily for a morning. Where you headed?â Jiyong said, following you as you walked through the woods.
âAgain, my story isnât what you came to the woods for this morning,â you repeated, spotting Braxton in the distance. âBraxton! Pack up! Weâre going!â
âOoh did I interrupt your honeymoon? Your husband sure is a good listener, but tell him he can leave the fire. Iâm going to need it,â the man said, waving the bag of food heâd stolen in your face.
Braxton sidled up next to you. He was used to keeping a low profile when the two of you were out of the castle, so he whispered, âDo we have a problem?â
You just made eye contact and shook your head slightly while untying your horseâs reigns.
You were about to get up on your horse when Jiyong said âAre you guys going to the border?â and you froze. âThe border isnât a safe place for people to go right now, women or men.â he continued.
Jiyongâs voice sounded much more serious than it had back at the stream, so you turned to face him. His eyes were knit a bit, and you could feel your own do the same.
âWhat do you know about whatâs going on at the border?â Braxton asked from behind you.
âWell I know I donât just give out information to strangers for one,â Jiyong answered cheekily.
Braxton rolled his eyes and fished the Queenâs Guard seal out of his bag to show.
A slow whistle came from Jiyongâs lips.
âQueenâs Guards, huh? No wonder you know how to fight,â he winked at you.
âYou guys fought?â Braxton asked, whipping his head towards you.
âYou can hardly call it a fight,â you said.
âOoh that hurts, princess.â Jiyong teased back, playfully grabbing at his chest.
You blinked once. Twice. Then shook your head.
âWhat did you call me?â you asked, less angry and more confused.
âWell you havenât told me your name, so princess it is because it doesnât seem to fit you at all,â Jiyong said, not looking at you and instead starting to roast his rabbit on the spit.
Braxton just laughed.
And there you went, quietly blinking again.
Finally, you just scoffed and hopped onto your horse.
âWell youâre right about that at least,â you started seeing Jiyong turn to look at you in confusion as Braxton pulled his horse alongside yours. âIâm no oneâs princess.â
Prompt: You meet Minseok in a bar and swear that you know him from SOMEWHERE but have no idea where, but now you have to do something about it
Pairing: Minseok x Reader
A/N: Â This was for a one shot challenge done on tumblr with friends but Iâm leaving it open to further one shots in the future. If you like this AU please let me know who and what you want to see and I will make a small list to work on. There are 3 pieces of dialogue in here that are not mine. I have borrowed them from Scott Lynch and his amazing Gentlemenâs Bastards series. I recently reread the 3 books and couldnât word the dialogue in these 3 spots any better
Rain pelted the windows of your corner office, only adding to the dreary day you were having. You said corner office but you could hardly call it that. Itâs not like you worked in some big office building for a massive corporation. No, you worked out of a rundown apartment in the shadier part of town. Still, it had a big glass window that wrapped around the corner of the building and rain was pelting against it. The only people that ever sought you out were in desperate need of your skills. Photographic memory, ability to sneak or talk your way into almost anywhere (except for that one demon club downtown), an unhealthy amount of supernatural knowledge and a general fuck it attitude were among some of your more specific skills that seemed to bring in the clients. If a person went missing and couldnât be found, you got a call. If one of the supernatural got a little too public with its existence, you got a call. If something was just plain weird, you got a call.
After one too many run ins with the law, and one extremely close call, Detective Markham had worked out exactly what you had been doing every time they found traces of you at a crime scene. Since that day youâd been given a small amount of trust to sort out the less human problems in the city and once youâd been given the freedom to emerge from the shadows without fear of being arrested and thrown in a psychiatric ward, youâd realised just how fucked up your city was.
It would actually be fair to say that humans thought they controlled a lot more of their city than they actually did. You had worked out that the city was divided into 6 very uneven sections. The largest parts went to the vampires, the demons and the fae, then the werewolves, other beings and lastly the humans. The humans bled into all the sectors, unbeknownst to them the danger they put themselves in or the nature of those they worked for. They had no idea that the coexisted with non humans and you couldn't help but laugh at how enterprising the supernatural were. Minhyuk the incubus ran the local sex shop (and business was booming), Heechul the changeling and his mix bag of supes ran one of the malls and Hyojong the ghoul was the local mortician to name a few.
You worked right near the border of the demons territory which meant the streets were always littered with addicts, working womenâŚsometimes men, the odd counsellor trying to help, and travellers for hire. The travellers were chameleons in this city. They could change at will to blend in to the sector they wandered in to so if you needed someone to scout an area or find names for you, you sought out a traveller. They were an information only service though. If you actually wanted to get anything done you either had to do it yourself or pay through the teeth to get it.
In these quiet periods you occasionally wished for the ignorance you once had when you would never have believed in anything other than humans. But, life was rough growing up and you had seen some shit that defied explanation. Then when a friend of yours went missing at the ripe age of 16, a traveller sat you down and explained everything to you. At first you called him crazy but he dragged you all over the city and pointed out the things that were âotherâ about the residents. Things you ignored if you werenât looking. Like how some of the âpeopleâ moved too fast, how all of their eyes changed, the differences in emotions, how they held themselves, their walks, the agelessness and the sheer cunning in all of them. It had shaken your world view and altered it for the rest of your days.
Sure the humans had their fair share of bad eggs but after seeing the supernatural for the first time you started to notice all of the ways people were manipulated for them. The vampires dealt mainly in brothels and hospitals. It was a good cover for bruised glassy eyed people and blood supplies as well as a good means of disposing of bodies. The demons dealt in contracts, so their sector had the lawyers, the high rollers and gamblers. The werewolves dealt in drugs and weapons since it allowed them to give in to the carnage they desired. The fae were the smugglers. They were who you looked to if a person just disappeared. The vamps at least had the decency to take adults and toss them back after they were done. The fae took children. they took anyone who might interest them for a few hours. Then you never saw them again. Â
They were the jobs you hated the most. You knew youâd hardly ever find the people you were looking for, and from the few encounters with the high fae over the years, any conversations you had with the fae required all of your wits. They were more cunning than the demons with how they could talk you round in circles without ever helping you. Entering their territory had its own set of dangers and it was ultimately never worth your time.
A sharp knock at the door broke your reverie. You spun in your chair and waited. Like hell you were getting up, the last three times someone had knocked it was for deliveries to the wrong apartment, salespeople or charity. So this time you decided to wait in your chair and see if they came in. They knocked a second time and still you waited. If whoever was on the other side of that door was seeking you out and theyâd ventured through the city to your apartment block, through the gang territories, drug addicts and drunkards, then they werenât leaving until they saw you. Â The handle turned and the door opened slowly, creaking loudly. Youâd fix it but it was a good makeshift security system. No one came in through the door without you knowing about it.
âHello?â A voice broke the silence. âUm, is anyone here?â
âIf you arenât here to try and sell me a product, a religion or a donation then come in. Otherwise fuck off.â
A young woman entered the apartment, closing the door behind her. If you had to guess youâd say she came from uptown, the section controlled by the demons, she looked too put together to be from any other area of town. Her eyes were wary but determined as she approached your desk. âDet. Markham gave me this address. Said you might be able to help me.â She took a seat opposite you and waited.
âI might be able to. Itâll cost you but Iâm sure Markham told you that already.â The woman nodded. âAlright, what seems to be the problem?â You leant back in your chair. If Markham had sent her then it was probably an actual case, now you just had to determine if it was worth the risk.
âMy sister went missing a week ago. Sheâs a nursing student and had been having night classes at the hospital. We live in uptown so she had a bit of a journey home each night. Sheâd always let me know when she was leaving and how she was getting home. That night I got a text saying she was catching the 2.45am bus but she never turned up. I reported her missing and the cops looked for any trace of her for the past week but came up with nothing. Markham gave me your card and told me you might be able to find something they missed. Please help me, my sister is all Iâve got and someone took her from me.â As she spoke, the desperation and loss ebbed into her voice. She was genuinely upset about her sister. You were going to have to call Markham to make sure there werenât any details you should know about this case but it sounded like the vampires were involved. Your guess was sheâd either been attacked or turned. It could also be the fae but you were hoping that since she went missing in vamp territory that the fae weren't involved.
âIâll have a look into it and see if I can find anything for you. Itâs a $200 upfront fee for services and then more as the investigation progresses based off the risk involved. I should know by tomorrow if there is anything to go off but Iâll get you to give me all the information about your sisters movements that week that you have.â The woman nodded and pulled out a binder and handed it to you.
âThat has basic info on Juliet, thatâs her name by the way, her hobbies, class schedule, travel routes, what she wore that week and more. Anything you need should be in there.â She handed you a wad of money and turned to leave.
âI assume that there is a number to contact you on in here too?â She nodded. âAlright, leave it with me. Iâll do what I can.â
âSo what youâre telling me is that you found nothing?â
âYes. It was weird, if I didnât know better Iâd say someone was trying to make it look like she never existed. When we first looked she still had insurance and bank accounts and a mailing address. Now all of that is gone. Medical history, gone. Thatâs why I gave her sister your card.â Markhamâs voice crackled through the receiver as you leafed through the binder youâd been left.
âIâm guessing vamps. Itâs their territory and they have a tendency to delete records when they need to.â
âAnd if it was them?â
You sighed. âThen Juliet is either dead, a plaything or a baby vamp. I can only get her back if sheâs the second option but that wonât be pleasant.â
---
The club was in full swing by the time you arrived. The music hit you, the dirty bass jerking your pulse to its beat. You wove through the throng of bodies writhing on the dance floor, seeking out one person. You scanned the bar and the booths tucked in the far corner of the club. Out of the light and obstructed by shadows, you spotted him. The lime green hair was a dead giveaway, pun intended. You observed from a distance, taking in his features. His skin was unmarred, save for the tattoos you could spot on any of his exposed skin. He looked up and stared straight at you before pointing a finger at you and beckoning you over. His brows were significantly darker than his hair and his eyes, dark and mesmerising.
Youâd heard a lot about the head of the vamp clan, Kwon Jiyong, but you had never spoken to him before. Tonight was a first. Youâd requested a sit down with one of the clans higher ups but you had expected your usual contact, Seungri. You approached the booth and tried to get a feel for the leader of the vamps. You had questions and no plans to overstep your boundaries while you were in their territory.
You took a seat opposite him. He leant back and settled into a more comfortable position in the booth, never breaking eye contact. All vampires had a special quality to their eyes but his were enthralling. Â He smirked and you got a hint of the mischievous side youâd been warned about.
âThanks for meeting me. I have to say I honestly didnât expect you to turn up. Usually itâs Seungri.â
âHe was otherwise engaged tonight. You requested a meeting with someone high up so I figured since I was free why not send you the highest up in my clan.â
âI wonât beat around the bush. This isnât a social call after all. Since we havenât met before Iâll introduce myself. Iâm a P.I. Iâve been hired by someone who is trying to find her sister.â
"Does this P.I. have a name?"
"You can call me Sophrosyne. Syn for short." you replied.
He chuckled, giving you and indignant look. "Greek gods? Really now."
"Names are currency in these parts. This is the name I go by. My true name is not up for discussion." He raised his hands, not in surrender but more as a show that he was willing to move on.
His gaze lingered on you. Vampires were unsettling in that they stared. A lot. âAnd you think itâs got something to do with us?â You nod. âWhy?â
âThe girl in question was taking night classes at the hospital and her records have been scrubbed.â A small frown ghosted across his face. If you hadnât been watching him for any signs of reaction you would have missed it.
âMmm I see why you came to ask questions. It makes sense. I can tell you this much though. Â It wasnât us.â
âForgive me if I sound rude but Iâm gonna need more than that if you actually want me to believe you.â
Jiyong sighed, an action that was completely unnecessary for him. âWe have not made any new vampires in the past fortnight and we have not disposed of any bodies that would fit her description. If she was taken by us, sheâll be in one of the brothels. We wouldnât scrub her records for that though so itâs unlikely that we have her. You are welcome to check, Iâll send word to answer your questions if you should turn up at any of our fine establishments.â He smirked as he finished his last sentence, amused at the thought of you visiting every brothel in his section of town.
He leant forward, all signs of mischief gone from his face. âWe arenât the only ones to scrub records darling. If I were you Iâd check uptown then the west. If she was taken downtown then you might as well tell whoever is looking for that sheâs dead because if the fae have her, sheâs never coming home.â
You nodded. You had the same plans. Vamps were the most likely suspects but if it wasnât them then you were off to see the demons next. They were sly but civil. The wolves were tenacious so you had to pick your moments with them. The fae⌠well you were hoping to avoid setting up a meeting with them. âI planned on leaving them til last. I have connections with the other 3 factions but not the fae. Iâd need all my wits about me before questioning them.â
Jiyong raised an eyebrow. âAnd you donât need your wits about you with the rest of us?â
âI understand how each of you work. Iâve had dealings with each of you in the past. Iâm not saying that makes you predictable or safe because lord knows youâre all dangerous but the fae are a whole other monster.â
You settled into a conversation with the head of the vampires. You could see the cogs turning in his brain every time you answered one of his questions. He was gracious, offering you a tidbit of his or his clans life whenever you answered him. There was no doubt in your mind that this man was also cunning and ruthless, one doesnât remain the head of a clan for so long by simply being nice.
You noticed a man standing at the bar, his body turned towards your booth. He was swirling a glass of whiskey in his hand. His lilac hair stood out amongst the crowd of darkly clothed club goers. He was staring down at his glass as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. Something kept dragging your focus from him and no matter how hard you tried you couldnât keep your eyes on him for more than a few seconds. It was like something was willing you to not notice him. You turned back to Jiyong to mention him but when he asked you what this man looked like you couldnât pull a single feature from your mind to share with him.
Jiyong tried to pull details from your mind for the next twenty minutes before giving up. He called a guard over and had him search the club for fae. The guard didnât find anything which didnât surprise either of you. After an hour the two of you parted ways. He wished you luck on your investigation but told you not to hold out much hope. What you didnât tell him is with any client, you presumed them dead until a piece of evidence told you otherwise.
The next day you headed uptown into the middle of demon territory. You made your way through the tent city on the outskirts, the alleys full of passed out addicts and hovels with working girls. The derelict buildings only represented the edges of the district. The edges were where you went if youâd run out of luck but didnât want to leave the district. It was where you found yourself if you still thought you could win it all back. No one ever won it all back, beating the demons was unheard of. As you continued on the buildings became nicer, sleeker and colder. There was no warmth in this district. Courts, legal offices and casinos were big business here. Not to mention all of the stores catering to the high rollers. Car dealerships, designer fashion, award winning restaurants and more were places around the central business district.
At the epicentre stood The Cardinal, a luxurious, exclusive and extremely well guarded casino. It was where the demons had based themselves and it was fitting really, each sin was well represented inside those walls. To gain entry you were required to prove your wealth and you had to look the part. It was like most casinos in that you rarely ever beat the house but the similarities stopped there. If you ran out of cash other bargains could be struck with one of the 7 owners if you were dumb enough to make a deal with them.
You had heard stories about con artists who had tried to scam the place and the tales you had heard were not pretty. It would be very, very unfortunate if one of the 7 were to realize that and patron to the establishment were counting on what one con artist had liked to call âdiscreetly unorthodox methodsâ to win the game â hell, it would be preferable to simply lose the old-fashioned way, or to be caught cheating by the normal attendants. They, at least, would probably be quick and efficient executioners. They had a very busy establishment to run. If, however, one of the 7 caught you, you would wish you were dead.
You had earned yourself free entry into The Cardinal after you had been tricked into catching one such con artist. At the time you hadnât known you were hired by a demon, they were cunning like that. Avarice, or Yoongi as he had requested you refer to him, was cutthroat when it came to losing what he saw as rightfully his. The way he saw it, someone was out to take his money, and he saw that as a personal attack. You never asked what became of the con artist and frankly you didnât want to know.
Over the years you had used the demons for their knowledge. Very little happened in the entire city without their knowing. Not surprising when you were dealing with demons. Even less surprising after you realised that the district was run by the seven deadly sins. In hindsight, Avarice was a little on the nose but demons always had weird latin names and you werenât always bothered with translating them.
You had learned quickly that in order to deal with the demons and not end up as one of their victims you had to be extremely adept at double speak, specifics and manipulation. They were masters at the art of talking unsuspecting humans around in circles, promising them the world all the while tricking them into selling their souls, eternal servitude or death.
You made your way up the stone steps and spotted one of the bouncers sidestep to block you from entering the building. You turned your head towards one of the security cameras and blinked, waiting. A moment later the bouncer moved out of your way. You inclined your head at the camera before continuing up the steps to the entrance of the building. You paused in front of the doors that would lead you inside. Once you crossed that threshold it was a sensory overload and if you werenât careful youâd never leave. Normal casinos were designed to fully immerse the gamblers into a world where time doesnât exist, money is constantly won and where they directly influence the odds. The Cardinal did all of that and more. The windows were actually black reflective glass so if you looked at them you would never see the outside, only the interior of the casino. The layout was deceptively simple but if you strayed from the main aisle you could lose yourself for days. There were no clocks so that gamblers lost track of time, servers provided free food and booze to gamblers and if you werenât gambling theyâd tell you which machines were the good ones and which tables youâd win at in order to coerce you into gambling. Each of the three floors had different music, noises, lighting and scents. The kicker was that each room might just have one of the seven deadly sins in it, influencing the gamblers every move.
You bypassed the ground floor and headed straight up the stairwell to the main bar. You didnât have a meeting set aside with Yoongi because you refused to give him any advantage when you needed to get information out of him. The less time he had to prepare, the better. You didnât expect to find him in the bar area but you needed one of the others in order to gain access to whichever high stakes room he was more than likely in.
As you sat and waited for your drink the youngest of the seven dropped into the seat next to you. âI see you are taking your sin literally tonight Jungkook.â He smirked back at you.
âWell when you look this goodâŚâ He chuckled. He knew he was attractive, his body and charms were a weapon. Tall, dark haired, well built, strong but not imposing, thighs to die for, killer smile and that way of talking to you like you were the only person in the universe. Jungkook was dangerous to anyone he went after. Lust was definitely in his element in the casino and tonight he was not going for subtlety. Every other time youâd been here heâd been in a perfectly tailored suit that accentuated every feature that he wanted to highlight. Tonight he was in black skinny jeans, a collared shirt that was being held together with two buttons and a leather jacket. He exuded sex appeal and you needed him to leave the room. You couldnât afford to waste any of your mental fortitude on anyone other than Yoongi tonight.
You reminded yourself why you were here and spoke. âI need access to whichever private game heâs running tonight.â Â
Jungkook shrugged. âHeâs not running one tonight.â
You raised an eyebrow at him, not believing the statement. âIâm not kidding, I have information to swap with him and some questions.â
Jungkook leaned forward and ran a hand through your hair. âAnd I told you, he isnât running any of the private games tonight. V & Jin are. A bunch of foreign businessmen arrived earlier so those two get the honours for the night.â
You refused to break eye contact or allow yourself to notice how he had moved closer to you or all of the little touches heâd given you since sitting down. You did not come here to be seduced by Lust. No, you came here for a far more idiotic reason, to try and get Greed to give up information for free. âIn that case where is he?â
Jungkook spun your body around on your seat so that he could stand right behind you. He extended his arm over your shoulder and pointed toward the other end of the floor before speaking in a sensual tone in your ear.. Â âHeâs down near the roulette and blackjack tables. You could always just stay with me though. Surely we could work out a deal.â
You shook your head and removed yourself from his clutches. âYouâd stand a chance if I didnât know what you are. Unfortunately for you, I know better than to get involved with Luxuria.â
He grinned as you got up to leave. âAh but thatâs what makes it fun for me. When I finally do win you, you will beg for me.â
You waved as you walked off. âKeep dreaming on that. Never gonna happen.â
You scanned the area as you reached the blackjack tables. So far you hadnât spotted him at any of the tables or walking the floor. You were getting ready to go back and chew Jungkook out for wasting your time when you finally spotted him. The mess of white blonde hair, the dark eyes observing the room hungrily from a recess in the room was unmistakably Yoongi. He glanced at you and raised an eyebrow. You approached him and took a seat in the recess next to him.
His low rasp startled you. âItâs fascinating to watch them revel in their greed. They hardly even need my influence on this floor, itâs almost like they think they could win.â He chuckled. âThey know deep down that they cannot win, that no one beats the house, but still they try.â
âIf they donât need your influence then why bother making an appearance on this floor?â
âTo recharge. I donât need to influence them but I can feed off their greed.â His dark eyes gleamed. âAnd there is so much to feed off.â He waved a hand in your direction. âYou arenât here for a social visit so what do you want?â
âI have some questions for you about a case Iâm working.â
You would have missed the gleam that flitted across his eyes if you hadnât been looking at him to gauge his response. The vices were always easy to pander to, the difficult part was getting what you wanted unscathed. âWhat are you offering in exchange for my answers? You know nothing is free inside these walls.â
âBetween 40 â 100% of the physical assets, gold, property, valuables etc will go to you. The percentage depends on the state that I find my client in.â
â80 â 100%â
â55 â 100%. No more. All I require from you is information, you donât even have to move from this spot.â
He thought about your offer as he watched the humans throw their money down at the roulette tables, as if they stood a chance at winning. Their greed was palpable. âFine. I will answer 3 questions. If you require more than that then we renegotiate the terms of our deal.â Clever. It was a smart move. This way he would gain some knowledge about what your case was and then he could figure out just how badly you wanted to solve it. He was trying to use your need for answers against you. It was not likely that he would budge from the initial offer of three questions so you got to work on the phrasing, you could not afford to leave any cracks for him to evade answering you.
âAgreed.â He shifted in his seat to face you, providing you with his full attention. âA girl went missing on her way home from night classes at the hospital. She lives in this territory. Every night she would call or text her sister to let her know she was on her way home and which bus she was on. The night she went missing she texted her sister to say she was leaving the hospital but she never arrived home. I initially thought vamps because by the time I was hired all of her records had been wiped. Itâs as though she never existed. Â I met with Jiyong and questioned him about the circumstances. After talking it out I can safely say Iâve eliminated the vamps from suspicion. That now leaves demons, wolves and the fae.â
âNot even considering humans for this?â
âThe police sent the sister to me after they came up with nothing. Theyâve had similar cases over the past few months and have never found a body or a suspect. Humans just arenât as adept at making multiple people disappear without a trace.â
âCareful now Syn, that almost sounds like a compliment.â
âQuestion 1: In the past 10 days have any deals/bargains or agreements been made that resulted in the disappearance of a girl named Juliet on her way home from class at the hospital?â
âNo.â
âQuestion 2: Where was she taken?â
âItâs flattering that you think I know the whereabouts of everyone in this city.â
âYou have eyes on every person who lives in your sector and she lives here. Answer the question Yoongi.â
He smirked at you. âAway from her home.â
You mentally kicked yourself for not making the second question more specific. That was a rookie mistake, something you were not. âQuestion 3: Specifically, what building in which section was she taken to?â
Yoongi glared at you as he pondered how to respond. He eventually sighed. âThis particular inhabitant of this sector was abducted before she reached the border. She was taken downtown so you might as well forget about ever finding her. I donât know a specific building because fae territory doesnât abide by the normal laws of physics.â
You slumped back into the recess. Fae territory meant bad news. You werenât even sure if the case was worth pursuing at this point. When the fae took you, you never returned. The travellers had many stories about what happened if you got taken by the fae but thatâs all it was, stories. None had ever met anyone who had been taken and returned.
You stared out at the blackjack table and tried to work out what you were going to do. To proceed would mean putting your life in danger but you hated the idea of throwing in the towel and giving up. You were pulled from your thoughts as Yoongi nudged your leg with his. âSo, my paymentâŚâ
âAre you trying to be annoying or does it just come naturally?
âIt comes naturally. But really, what percentage?â
You scowled at him. âIâm not sure yet.â
âWait. You arenât seriously going to pursue this are you?â
You shrugged. âIâm not sure yet.â
He scratched the back of his head and stared back out at the casino floor. You resumed watching the blackjack table. A man grabbed your attention. He was good enough of a cheat to not get noticed by the staff or guards but you were sure that he was cheating. The most common thing people tried to do was count cards but it was extremely obvious unless you were a master at it. This man wasnât counting cards. He was a good player but he was drugging the other players. It was subtle but you spotted the slight touches and the residue that the players couldnât see. Their betting became more extravagant and their actions less logical so he was naturally cleaning up at the table as a result of their bad bets. âTable 12, red hair and black suit.â
Yoongi quickly looked to the table you mentioned and watched as the game progressed. âThat fucker thinks he can steal from me does he? Well. Weâll see about that.â He stood and turned to you. âI can provide extraction from the fae sector for you.â
Your head snapped up to look at him. There was no way he would ever offer something for nothing. âAt what cost?â you asked.
He shrugged, a cold smile growing on his face. âIf you die I get everything you own.â
You tried not to laugh. What exactly did Yoongi think you owned? Your shitty apartment was full of second hand furniture and you had lived a minimalist life , not by choice, so your version of everything was a lot less than he must have thought. âDeal.â You responded. âTry not to kill the guy before questioning him this time.â
He grinned at you, his gummy smile completely changing his face. âGot to mind the delicate social nuances when you inform some poor fellow that heâs a dumb motherfucker.â Â Yoongi turned and disappeared in the crowds.
You returned to the bar, thankfully Jungkook was busy and was leaving you alone. You drank your whiskey in peace and watched the crowds. Youâd always been fascinated by people and observed their behaviours whenever you could. You could tell a lot from watching a person who had no idea they were being watched. The Cardinal was full of liars, deceivers, criminals and the selfish tonight. Everyone you observed was trying to swindle their opponent and get rich. Observing that grew boring rather quickly.
A tuft of lavender hair across the room stole your attention. Piercing feline eyes stared back at you, cutting through the crowds like a laser. As soon as you stared into them they seemed to disappear. If it wasnât for the fact that you could still see the lavender hair you would have believed youâd imagined it. You had no idea why you were so drawn to the man with lavender hair but you couldnât shake the feeling that youâd seen him before.
---
You stood at the threshold between the fae sector and the human sector. You had spent the remainder of last night organising how you were going to ensure yourself safe passage in and out. Youâd called Julietâs sister to update her on the case, sheâd quickly agreed to your higher fee in the hopes that you could return Juliet to her. Zico, head of the werewolf clans, had given you directions to the main bar in the fae sector. Heâd told you that it was the main hub for getting information and that you might be able to get some of your questions answered there. He had told you not to hold out much hope though. The fae were very private and getting direct answers out of them was like drawing blood from a stone. Yoongi had struck a deal with you that promised he could get you out of the fae sector and demons never failed to deliver when a deal was struck so that made you feel a little safer.
Youâd talked with sprites that had moved to the mixed sector and theyâd given you rules to follow. Donât eat or drink anything while in the fae sector or youâll never leave and if you were to run into one of the princes, bow and leave. According to the sprites, the emissaries to the fae sector were the ones who did all of the dirty work like kidnapping girls but the princes were a different matter entirely. The princes could alter your mind and make it so that youâd never want to leave. They could bring you untold pleasure or unbearable pain.
Lastly, youâd called Detective Markham and told her what you could about the abduction and what she was to do if you disappeared. Â She wished you luck on your rescue operation but reminded you not to sacrifice your own safety just to close a case. That was a little hypocritical coming from her but you had promised her youâd try. Anything more would have been a lie.
So you stood at the threshold trying to talk yourself into crossing the invisible border. You stood at the threshold convincing yourself that you werenât an idiot to try and find this girl. That you could enter this sector and come back out unscathed. That you wouldnât need to call in any of your contingency plans to get you the fuck out of there if everything went sideways. You trusted in your abilities. You werenât just any human, you were skilled in areas that others werenât and you trusted that you could either get the job done or confirm that Juliet was a lost cause. Either way you would walk back out across the border in a few hours. You squared your shoulders and took a deep breath and then stepped into the fae part of town.
The bar was not like you had expected. You werenât sure what youâd expected but a tiki themed bar had definitely NOT crossed your mind. It was weird. Surely it was a joke of some sort, or an illusion. Zico had told you about some of the powers the fae had and the drugs they used. Heâd given you a dose of something that he said would remove glamour and allow you to really see what was happening but standing in the middle of the tiki bar⌠you werenât sure that it had worked. Barmaids were dressed in coconut bras and grass skirts, tropical looking drinks and fruits were being served and there was weird rainbow coloured candy in bowls all over the bar. You felt like you were at a frat party not in a fae bar.  They were supposed to be scary⌠this was the opposite of that.
You watched as another girl wandered around the bar, clearly enthralled by the theme. She eventually made it to the bar and ordered some weird blue drink and the bartender dropped a piece of the rainbow candy in it. He was speaking to her as he stirred her drink and she was giggling at the attention. Part of you wanted to go and stop her from consuming a drop of it but you needed to see what happened when she drank it. She lifted the drink to her lips and took a sip through her straw. Nothing happened. How anti-climactic. She took her drink and moved to a table in the far corner to continue enjoying her drink and staring around the bar. Seriously how could a tiki theme be this engrossing for a person? You were actually starting to wish for something to happen to her so that sheâd stop staring at the tiki torches like they were the most exotic thing sheâd ever seen in her life.
As soon as she sat down an orange haired man appeared. The way he held himself made you think he was potentially one of these princes Zico had warned you about. There was a cunning gleam in his eyes as he made a beeline for the girl and sat opposite her. You cursed under your breath. You could only see her face as he spoke to her and you watched the flirty smile and body language that she was offering up. As you continued to watch you notice the desire in her eyes build but you also saw something else. Fear. As he continued to speak to her you watched that fear and apprehension grow. She shook her head in response to something he said and he shrugged, moving to get up and leave. She grabbed his hand and begged him not to leave her. It was surreal. Here was this woman in front of you who was clearly terrified but begging to go with the very person who terrified her. Â She nodded at something heâd said and then they both left.
âItâs rude to stare you know.â A light voice pulled you out of your tunnel vision of the recently vacated table. You nearly jumped out of your seat when heâd spoken.
âYou might need to tell yourself that if you were watching me long enough to decide that I was staring.â You turned around in your seat to see who was speaking to you. When you turned you were met with an empty seat.
âYou were hardly subtle about it. Sitting at a table alone, no food, no drink, not blinkingâŚâ This time you did jump as the voice now sounded from opposite you on the table. You turned back around and staring back at you was a fae man. You knew he was fae because no human looked that good. It simply wasnât possible. The man staring back at you had the most mesmerising eyes, feline in shape. You felt like you had looked into these eyes before but you couldnât remember when. He watched with a smirk on his face as you took in his appearance. The lavender hair, that stood out.  You were certain youâd seen him before.
âItâs also rude to invade a personâs space without introducing yourself.â You bit back. This guy clearly thought a lot of himself because he scoffed at your words and leant forward on the table, placing his head on top of his hands and raising an eyebrow at you. You hated how good he looked while doing that.
âI like doing things I shouldnât. I donât feel guilty. I donât feel remorse. Why should I tell you who I am?â
You sat back in your chair, wishing you had a whiskey right now. âWell, simply put, it would be rude of you not to introduce yourself now.â There was something about this guy. If any other being irked you like this you wouldnât have tolerated it but something about him made you keep your cool. You mind was trying to work out when youâd seen or spoken to him before but it was coming up foggy. Â You had a niggling feeling that he had been keeping an eye on you over the past few days but you had no proof. You werenât stupid though, you knew someone had wiped part of your memory. The foggy emptiness that a memory wipe left behind was something youâd seen in clients over the years but it had never happened to you.
He chuckled at you. âIs this how you treat everyone you meet?â
âStop evading the question.â
âWhat, and ruin the air of mystery I have working for me? No I don't think I'll give you a name yet.â
You leaned forward, closing the gap between the two of you. âWhy won't you tell me your name?â
âBecause that would be telling.â He took a sip of his whisky and licked his lips âSince when do you need a name to enjoy someone's company?â
It might have been his eyes, the way he just licked his lips or it might have just been the strange feeling of familiarity he gave you that caused you to respond with âI can think of at least one good reason.â
That caught his attention, earning you another smirk. He placed his glass on the table in front of him and used his free hand to push your hair behind your ear, slowly trailing his hand along your jaw until he reached your chin, which he lightly grasped. âI do wonder what that reason could be. You make it sound so very enticing. Did you notice that I never asked for your name?â
You smirked. âNames are dangerous to throw around, especially with the fae.â
He sighed. âYou ruin the fun so quickly. Fine. Why are you here kitten?â You glared at the pet name he gave you. âWhat? You donât want to give me a name. I have to come up with one myself.â
You centred yourself and reminded yourself not to get into an argument with the fae. This guy seemed playful enough now but if you pissed him off you could tell youâd regret it. âI came to ask some questions about a missing girl.â
He sat silently, waiting for you to continue. âShe went missing a week ago from the hospital. It wasnât humans, vamps or demons that took her. Her records were scrubbed so now it appears like she never existed. Â The last sighting of her was 5 days ago as she was taken across the border into this territory.â
He raised an eyebrow at you. âAnd?â
It took all of your will not to snap at him. Why would he give two shits about the life of a human? You described her to him and handed him a photo of Juliet. âSo my first question is; have you seen her?â
He nodded. âYes.â
âWho took her?â
He sat back in his chair, swirling his whiskey. âHow much do you know about our kind kitten?â
âEnough to know that you are clever and dangerous.â
He laughed, actually laughed at you. âI meant our history but itâs good to know you arenât stupid like that girl you were staring at earlier.â
You scrunched your nose as you thought. âNot much. No one is really all that forthcoming with fae history lessons.â
He set his glass on the table and sat up straight. âThere are 9 fae princes. 4 belong to the seasonal courts, summer, spring, autumn and winter and 3 belong to the solar courts, dawn, day and night. There are 2 emissaries, one to the seasonal courts and one to the solar courts. The emissaries are the ones who frequent the human world. The other princes are supposed to remain in their lands and not venture out into the human world but they are easily bored so sometimes they visit to observe and to choose new playthings. If they find a plaything, the emissaries collect said plaything for them and transport it to the fae lands. These 9 princes are said to be devastatingly handsome and dangerous. They each have a power that helps their court flourish and grow... Why are you laughing?â
âSorry but if you could see your face when you said devastatingly handsome. Ego much? So, is the point of this history lesson to tell me that Juliet was taken by one of the two emissaries and is now a plaything in one of the courts?â
He narrowed his eyes at you. âBe careful how to address me now. I ignored your earlier rudeness since you did not know my status. Now that you do, I wonât ignore your lack of manners or tact any more. It is true, Juliet now resides in one of the courts.â
Your shoulders dropped. If she was in one of the courts and not somewhere in the city there you had no hope of getting her back. You hated cases with bad outcomes but no one ever entered the far realm and came back. Once you entered, you were as good as dead in the real world. The man across from you noticed the shift in your mood and pouted slightly. âYou could get her back. For a price.â
You shook your head. âDeals with demons are iffy enough, striking deals with the fae? Thatâs a whole different problem. The price is always too high, and 90% of the time the deal is worded in such a way that it only benefits the fae.â
He smirked at you. âYou might find that you enjoy this one.â
âI canât make a deal with anyone if I donât know their name.â
âI thought you specialised in dishonest finesse?â
âI also do a brisk trade in putting knives to peoplesâ throats and shouting at themâ
He narrowed his eyes at you. âSomething is different, you werenât able to focus on me before. Why is it that you can now?â
âA little wolf helped me get past your glamour.â You paused. âAnswer one more question for me. Have we met before?â
âOh my dear, if you remembered you would blush.â He bit his lip and stared at you brazenly. âI will make an addition to my terms. I will secure passage for Juliet, the girl from that picture who went missing from the hospital last week, to be returned to her sister unscathed, not remembering anything about her time in the fae lands if you agree to tell me your name, allow me to remove the glamour on your mind and live in my court for one month. After the month is over I will offer to wipe your memory and return you or let you keep your memories and return you.â He took a swig from his glass and chuckled at the look on your face as you tried to process the fact that you had met him before and apparently had some sort of history with him as well as how specific he had been in wording the deal. âSee, fae can make detailed deals when we want to.â
âHow do I know you or anyone else wonât harm me?â
âNo harm shall come to you whilst under my protection, which will last from the moment you enter the fae lands until you leave a month later.â
You mulled the proposed deal over in your head. It seemed fine, your only concern was that you would have to go to the fae realm for a month. âI will agree to your terms with a few additions. 1. The normal fae rules for food and drink consumption will not apply to me whilst under your protection. 2. You will tell me your name during this month. 3. You will allow me one phone call before I go with you and 4. Juliet and her sister will remain safe.â He agreed, his lip curling upwards as you sealed the deal with a handshake. A small brand appeared on your forearm in the shape of a snowflake. âWinter court I assume?â He nodded.
You dialled and waited for your call to be answered. He picked up after 3 rings. âWhat?â
âYoongi, the extraction plan we made a deal on, if I am not back in The Cardinal in one month send someone to my office. If Iâm not there, extract me from the winter court.â
Yoongiâs low rasp sounded âAre you really this dumb Syn?â
âYour missing citizen will be returned tomorrow. Iâve struck a deal and Iâd like to think after all these years hanging around you lot Iâve picked up on a thing or two.â
âJust remember what happens if you die.â With that he hung up.
The prince of the winter court had a devilish smirk on his face as he approached you which unsettled you. âIâm going to show you a memory that was wiped before we leave.â He raised his hand to your face and cupped it. Memories of your night at The Cardinal came flooding back to you. How youâd followed the lavender haired fae to the bar and tried to flirt in order to work out who he was. Heâd played along, toying with you. Heâd moved you into a small private booth in the bar and allowed you to push him down into the booth and straddle him as you drunkenly tried to get answers out of him, the lust and desire clouding your mind. You should have left the casino earlier, the effects of the sins, namely Lust, were starting to get to you.
âYes, I think I'm starting to see why you might want my name.â He rolled his hips against yours causing you to cry out. âDo you want to know my name?â
âYes!â You panted. He was giving you pleasure but holding back, yet to touch you where you craved it the most.
âHmm, I think you're going to have to earn the privilege. Think you can earn it Syn?â You responded by kissing and nibbling at his neck whilst removing his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt. Then you started to kiss your way down his chest and slid yourself down off his lap until you were knelt in-between his legs. You ran your hands up the inside of his thighs and bit your lip. The memory then faded.
He whispered into your ear. âFor the record, I know your name. You are still working on getting mine.â You were blushing as the memories remained with you, embarrassed at what youâd seen. He took your hand. âOk, time to go. A deal is a deal. As soon as you enter the fae realm you are under my protection and Juliet will be sent back home.â He tugged your hand and started to walk towards the back of the bar. The wall shimmered and he waited for you to step through.
The last words you heard before stepping across the threshold were. âYou have a month to earn my name.â
The great square of Florin city was filled as never before, awaiting the introduction of Prince Seungriâs bride-to-be, Princess Y/N of Meath. The crowd had begun forming some forty hours earlier, but up to twenty-four hours before, there were still fewer than one thousand. But then, as the moment of introduction grew nearer, from across the country the people came. None had ever seen the Princess, but rumors of your beauty were continual and each was less possible than the one before.
At noontime, Prince Seungri appeared at the balcony of his fatherâs castle and raised his arms. The crowd, which by now was at the danger size, slowly quieted. There were stories that the King was dying, that he was already dead, that he had been dead long since, that he was fine.
âMy people, my beloveds, from whom we draw our strength, today is a day of greeting. As you must have heard, my honored fatherâs health is not what it once was. He is, of course, ninety-seven, so who can ask more. As you also know, Florin needs a male heir.â
The crowd began to stir nowâit was to be this lady they had heard so much about.
âIn three months, our country celebrates its five hundredth anniversary. To celebrate that celebration, I shall, on that sundown, take for my wife the Princess Y/N of Meath. You do not know her yet. But you will meet her now,â and he made a sweeping gesture and the balcony doors swung open and you moved out beside him on the balcony.
And the crowd, quite literally, gasped.
The twenty-one-year-old Princess far surpassed the eighteen-year-old mourner. Your figure faults were gone, the too bony elbow having fleshed out nicely; the opposite pudgy wrist could not have been trimmer. Your hair, which was once the color of autumn, was still the color of autumn, except that before, you had tended it yourself, whereas now you had five full-time hairdressers who managed things for you. (This was long after hairdressers; in truth, ever since there have been women, there have been hairdressers, Adam being the first, though the King James scholars do their very best to muddy this point.) Your skin was still wintry cream, but now, with two handmaidens assigned to each appendage and four for the rest of you, it actually, in certain lights, seemed to provide you with a gentle, continually shimmering as you moved, glow.
Prince Seungri took your hand and held it high and the crowd cheered. âThatâs enough, mustnât risk overexposure,â the Prince said, and he started back in toward the castle.
âThey have waited, some of them, so long,â you answered. âI would like to walk among them.â
âWe do not walk among commoners unless it is unavoidable,â the Prince said.
âI have known more than a few commoners in my time,â you told him. âThey will not, I think, harm me.â
And with that you left the balcony, reappeared a moment later on the great steps of the castle and, quite alone, walked open-armed down into the crowd.
Wherever you went, the people parted. You crossed and recrossed the Great Square and always, ahead of you, the people swept apart to let you pass. You continued, moving slowly and smiling, alone, like some land messiah.
Most of the people there would never forget that day. None of them, of course, had ever been so close to perfection, and the great majority adored you instantly. There were, to be sure, some who, while admitting you were pleasing enough, were withholding judgment as to your quality as a queen. And, of course, there were some more who were frankly jealous. Very few of them hated you.
And only three of them were planning to murder you.
You, naturally, knew none of this. You were smiling, and when people wanted to touch your gown, well, let them, and when they wanted to brush their skin against yours, well, let them do that too. You had studied hard to do things royally, and you wanted very much to succeed, so you kept your posture erect and your smile gentle, and that your death was so close would have only made you laugh, if someone had told you. Butâ
âin the farthest corner of the Great Squareâ
âin the highest building in the landâ
âdeep in the deepest shadowâ
âthe man in black stood waiting.
His boots were black and leather. His pants were black and his shirt. His mask was black, blacker than raven. But blackest of all were his flashing eyes.
Flashing and cruel and deadlyâŚ
You were more than a little weary after your triumph. The touching of the crowds had exhausted you, so you rested a bit, and then, toward midafternoon, you changed into your riding clothes and went to fetch Horse. This was the one aspect of your life that had not changed in the years preceding. You still loved to ride, and every afternoon, weather permitting or not, you rode alone for several hours in the wild land beyond the castle.
You did your best thinking then.
Not that your best thinking ever expanded horizons. Still, you told yourself, you were not a dummy either, so as long as you kept your thoughts to yourself, well, where was the harm?
As you rode through woods and streams and heather, your brain was awhirl. The walk through the crowds had moved you, and in a way most strange. For even though you had done nothing for three years now but train to be a princess and a queen, today was the first day you actually understood that it was all soon to be a reality.
And I just donât like Seungri, you thought. Itâs not that I hate him or anything. I just never see him; heâs always off someplace or playing in the Zoo of Death.
To your way of thinking, there were two main problems: (1) was it wrong to marry without like, and (2) if it was, was it too late to do anything about it.
The answers, to your way of thinking, as you rode along, were: (1) no and (2) yes.
It wasnât wrong to marry someone you didnât like, it just wasnât right either. If the whole world did it, that wouldnât be so great, what with everybody kind of grunting at everybody else as the years went by. But, of course, not everybody did it; so forget about that. The answer to (2) was even easier: you had given your word you would marry; that would have to be enough. True, he had told you quite honestly that if you said ânoâ he would have to have you disposed of, in order to keep respect for the Crown at its proper level; still, you could have, had you so chosen, said âno.â
Everyone had told you, since you became a princess-in-training, that you was very likely the most beautiful woman in the world. Now you were going to be the richest and most powerful as well.
Donât expect too much from life, you told herself as you rode along. Learn to be satisfied with what you have.
Dusk was closing in when you crested the hill. You were perhaps half an hour from the castle, and your daily ride was three-quarters done. Suddenly you reined Horse, for standing in the dimness beyond was the strangest trio you had ever seen.
The man in front was dark, Sicilian perhaps, with the gentlest face, almost angelic. He moved forward toward you with surprising speed and nimbleness. The other two remained rooted. The second, also dark, probably from Busan, was as erect and slender as the blade of steel that was attached to his side. The third man, mustachioed, perhaps a Turk, was easily the biggest human being you had ever ever seen.
âA word?â the Sicilian said, raising his arms. His smile was more angelic than his face.
You halted. âSpeak.â
âWe are but poor circus performers,â the Sicilian explained. âIt is dark and we are lost. We were told there was a village nearby that might enjoy our skills.â
âYou were misinformed,â you told him. âThere is no one, not for many miles.â
âThen there will be no one to hear you scream,â the Sicilian said, and he jumped with frightening agility toward your face.
That was all that you remembered. Perhaps you did scream, but if you did it was more from terror than anything else, because certainly there was no pain. His hands expertly touched places on your neck, and unconsciousness came.
You awoke to the lapping of water.
You were wrapped in a blanket and the giant Turk was putting you in the bottom of a boat. For a moment you were about to talk, but then when they began talking, you thought it better to listen. And after you had listened for a moment, it got harder and harder to hear. Because of the terrible pounding of your heart.
âI think you should kill her now,â the Turk said.
âThe less you think, the happier Iâll be,â the Sicilian answered.
There was the sound of ripping cloth.
âWhat is that?â the Korean asked.
âThe same as I attached to her saddle,â the Sicilian replied. âFabric from the uniform of an officer of Guilder.â
âI still thinkââ the Turk began.
âShe must be found dead on the Guilder frontier or we will not be paid the remainder of our fee. Is that clear enough for you?â
âI just feel better when I know whatâs going on, thatâs all,â the Turk mumbled. âPeople are always thinking Iâm so stupid because Iâm big and strong and sometimes drool a little when I get excited.â
âThe reason people think youâre so stupid,â the Sicilian said, âis because you are so stupid. It has nothing to do with your drooling.â
There came the sound of a flapping of sail. âWatch your heads,â the Korean cautioned, and then the boat was moving. âThe people of Florin will not take her death well, I shouldnât think. She has become beloved.â
âThere will be war,â the Sicilian agreed. âWe have been paid to start it. Itâs a fine line of work to be expert in. If we do this perfectly, there will be a continual demand for our services.â
âWell I donât like it all that much,â the Korean said. âFrankly, I wish you had refused.â
âThe offer was too high.â
âI donât like killing a girl,â the Korean said.
âGod does it all the time; if it doesnât bother Him, donât let it worry you.â
Through all this, you had not moved.
The Korean said, âLetâs just tell her weâre taking her away for ransom.â
The Turk agreed. âSheâs so beautiful and sheâd go all crazy if she knew.â
âShe knows already,â the Sicilian said. âSheâs been awake for every word of this.â
You lay under the blanket, not moving. How could he have known that, you wondered.
âHow can you be sure?â the Korean asked.
âThe Sicilian senses all,â the Sicilian said.
Conceited, you thought.
âYes, very conceited,â the Sicilian said.
He must be a mind reader, you thought.
âAre you giving it full sail?â the Sicilian said.
âAs much as is safe,â the Korean answered from the tiller.
âWe have an hour on them, so no risks yet. It will take her horse perhaps twenty-seven minutes to reach the castle, a few minutes more for them to figure out what happened and, since we left an obvious trail, they should be after us within an hour. We should reach the Cliffs in fifteen minutes more and, with any luck at all, the Guilder frontier at dawn, when she dies. Her body should be quite warm when the Prince reaches her mutilated form. I only wish we could stay for his griefâit should be Homeric.â
Why does he let me know his plans, you wondered.
âYou are going back to sleep now, my lady,â the Korean said, and his fingers suddenly were touching your temple, your shoulder, your neck, and you were unconscious againâŚ
You did not know how long you were out, but they were still in the boat when you blinked, the blanket shielding you. And this time, without daring to thinkâthe Sicilian would have known it somehowâyou threw the blanket aside and dove deep into Florin Channel.
You stayed under for as long as you dared and then surfaced, starting to swim across the moonless water with every ounce of strength remaining to you. Behind you in the darkness there were cries.
âGo in, go in!â from the Sicilian.
âI only dog paddle,â from the Turk.
âYouâre better than I am,â from the Korean.
You continued to leave them behind you. Your arms ached from effort but you gave them no rest. Your legs kicked and your heart pounded.
âI can hear her kicking,â the Sicilian said. âVeer left.â
You went into your breast stroke, silently swimming away.
âWhere is she?â shrieked the Sicilian.
âThe sharks will get her, donât worry,â cautioned the Korean.
Oh dear, I wish you hadnât mentioned that, you thought.
âPrincess,â the Sicilian called, âdo you know what happens to sharks when they smell blood in the water? They go mad. There is no controlling their wildness. They rip and shred and chew and devour, and Iâm in a boat, Princess, and there isnât any blood in the water now, so weâre both quite safe, but there is a knife in my hand, my lady, and if you donât come back Iâll cut my arms and Iâll cut my legs and Iâll catch the blood in a cup and Iâll fling it as far as I can and sharks can smell blood in the water for miles and you wonât be beautiful for long.â
You hesitated, silently treading water. Around you now, although it was surely your imagination, you seemed to be hearing the swish of giant tails.
âCome back and come back now. There will be no other warning.â
You thought, If I come back, theyâll kill me anyway, so whatâs the difference?
âThe difference isââ
There he goes doing that again, you thought. He really is a mind reader.
ââif you come back now,â the Sicilian went on, âI give you my word as a gentleman and assassin that you will die totally without pain. I assure you, you will get no such promise from the sharks.â
The fish sounds in the night were closer now.
You began to tremble with fear. You were terribly ashamed of herself but there it was. You only wished you could see for a minute if there really were sharks and if he really would cut himself.
The Sicilian winced out loud.
âHe just cut his arm, lady,â the Turk called out. âHeâs catching the blood in a cup now. There must be a half-inch of blood on the bottom.â
The Sicilian winced again.
âHe cut his leg this time,â the Turk went on. âThe cupâs getting full.â
I donât believe them, you thought. There are no sharks in the water and there is no blood in his cup.
âMy arm is back to throw,â the Sicilian said. âCall out your location or not, the choice is yours.â
Iâm not making a peep, you decided.
âFarewell,â from the Sicilian.
There was the splashing sound of liquid landing on liquid.
Then there came a pause.
Then the sharks went mad. All around you, you could hear them beeping and screaming and thrashing their mighty tails. Nothing can save me, you realized. Iâm a dead cookie.
Fortunately for all concerned save the sharks, it was around this time that the moon came out.
âThere she is,â shouted the Sicilian, and like lightning the Korean turned the boat and as the boat drew close the Turk reached out a giant arm and then you were back in the safety of your murderers while all around them the sharks bumped each other in wild frustration.
âKeep her warm,â the Korean said from the tiller, tossing his cloak to the Turk.
âDonât catch cold,â the Turk said, wrapping you into the cloakâs folds.
âIt doesnât seem to matter all that much,â you answered, âseeing youâre killing me at dawn.â
âHeâll do the actual work,â the Turk said, indicating the Sicilian, who was wrapping cloth around his cuts. âWeâll just hold you.â
âHold your stupid tongue,â the Sicilian commanded.
The Turk immediately hushed.
âI donât think heâs so stupid,â you said. âAnd I donât think youâre so smart either, with all your throwing blood in the water. Thatâs not what I would call grade-A thinking.â
âIt worked, didnât it? Youâre back, arenât you?â The Sicilian crossed toward her. âOnce women are sufficiently frightened, they scream.â
âBut I didnât scream; the moon came out,â answered Y/N somewhat triumphantly.
The Sicilian struck her.
âEnough of that,â the Turk said then.
The Sicilian looked dead at the giant. âDo you want to fight me? I donât think you do.â
âNo, sir,â the Turk mumbled. âNo. But donât use force. Please. Force is mine. Strike me if you feel the need. I wonât care.â
The Sicilian returned to the other side of the boat. âShe would have screamed,â he said. âShe was about to cry out. My plan was ideal as all my plans are ideal. It was the moonâs ill timing that robbed me of perfection.â He scowled unforgivingly at the yellow wedge above them. Then he stared ahead. âThere!â The Sicilian pointed. âThe Cliffs of Insanity.â
And there they were. Rising straight and sheer from the water, a thousand feet into the night. They provided the most direct route between Florin and Guilder, but no one ever used them, sailing instead the long way, many miles around. Not that the Cliffs were impossible to scale; two men were known to have climbed them in the last century alone.
âSail straight for the steepest part,â the Sicilian commanded.
The Korean said, âI was.â
You did not understand. Going up the Cliffs could hardly be done, you thought; and no one had ever mentioned secret passages through them. Yet here they were, sailing closer and closer to the mighty rocks, now surely less than a quarter-mile away.
For the first time the Sicilian allowed himself a smile. âAll is well. I was afraid your little jaunt in the water was going to cost me too much time. I had allowed an hour of safety. There must still be fifty minutes of it left. We are miles ahead of anybody and safe, safe, safe.â
âNo one could be following us yet?â the Korean asked.
âNo one,â the Sicilian assured him. âIt would be inconceivable.â
âAbsolutely inconceivable?â
âAbsolutely, totally, and, in all other ways, inconceivable,â the Sicilian reassured him. âWhy do you ask?â
âNo reason,â the Korean replied. âItâs only that I just happened to look back and somethingâs there.â
They all whirled.
Something was indeed there. Less than a mile behind them across the moonlight was another sailing boat, small, painted what looked like black, with a giant sail that billowed black in the night, and a single man at the tiller. A man in black.
The Korean looked at the Sicilian. âIt must just be some local fisherman out for a pleasure cruise alone at night through shark-infested waters.â
âThere is probably a more logical explanation,â the Sicilian said. âBut since no one in Guilder could know yet what weâve done, and no one in Florin could have gotten here so quickly, he is definitely not, however much it may look like it, following us. It is coincidence and nothing more.â
âHeâs gaining on us,â the Turk said.
âThat is also inconceivable,â the Sicilian said. âBefore I stole this boat weâre in, I made many inquiries as to what was the fastest ship on all of Florin Channel and everyone agreed it was this one.â
âYouâre right,â the Turk agreed, staring back. âHe isnât gaining on us. Heâs just getting closer, thatâs all.â
âIt is the angle weâre looking from and nothing more,â said the Sicilian.
You could not take your eyes from the great black sail. Surely the three men you were with frightened her. But somehow, for reasons you could never begin to explain, the man in black frightened you more.
âAll right, look sharp,â the Sicilian said then, just a drop of edginess in his voice.
The Cliffs of Insanity were very close now.
The Korean maneuvered the craft expertly, which was not easy, and the waves were rolling in toward the rocks now and the spray was blinding. You shielded your eyes and put your head straight back, staring up into the darkness toward the top, which seemed shrouded and out of reach.
Then the Sicilian bounded forward, and as the ship reached the cliff face, he jumped up and suddenly there was a rope in his hand.
You stared in silent astonishment. The rope, thick and strong, seemed to travel all the way up the Cliffs. As you watched, the Sicilian pulled at the rope again and again and it held firm. It was attached to something at the topâa giant rock, a towY/Ng tree, something.
âFast now,â the Sicilian ordered. âIf he is following us, which of course is not within the realm of human experience, but if he is, weâve got to reach the top and cut the rope off before he can climb up after us.â
âClimb?â You said. âI would never be able toââ
âHush!â the Sicilian ordered you. âGet ready!â he ordered the Korean. âSink it,â he ordered the Turk.
And then everyone got busy. The Korean took a rope, tied your hands and feet. The Turk raised a great leg and stomped down at the center of the boat, which gave way immediately and began to sink. Then the Turk went to the rope and took it in his hands.
âLoad me,â the Turk said.
The Korean lifted you and draped your body around the Turkâs shoulders. Then he tied himself to the Turkâs waist. Then the Sicilian hopped, clung to the Turkâs neck.
âAll aboard,â the Sicilian said. (This was before trains, but the expression comes originally from carpenters loading lumber, and this was well after carpenters.)
With that the Turk began to climb. It was at least a thousand feet and he was carrying the three, but he was not worried. When it came to power, nothing worried him. When it came to reading, he got knots in the middle of his stomach, and when it came to writing, he broke out in a cold sweat, and when addition was mentioned or, worse, long division, he always changed the subject right away.
But strength had never been his enemy. He could take the kick of a horse on his chest and not fall backward. He could take a hundred-pound flour sack between his legs and scissor it open without thinking. He had once held an elephant aloft using only the muscles in his back.
But his real might lay in his arms. There had never, not in a thousand years, been arms to match Jungkookâs. (For that was his name.) The arms were not only gargantuan and totally obedient and surprisingly quick, but they were also, and this is why he never worried, tireless. If you gave him an ax and told him to chop down a forest, his legs might give out from having to support so much weight for so long, or the ax might shatter from the punishment of killing so many trees, but Jungkookâs arms would be as fresh tomorrow as today.
And so, even with the Sicilian on his neck and the Princess around his shoulders and the Korean at his waist, Jungkook did not feel in the least bit put upon. He was actually quite happy, because it was only when he was requested to use his might that he felt he wasnât a bother to everybody.
Up he climbed, arm over arm, arm over arm, two hundred feet now above the water, eight hundred feet now to go.
More than any of them, the Sicilian was afraid of heights. All of his nightmares, and they were never far from him when he slept, dealt with falling. So this terrifying ascension was most difficult for him, perched as he was on the neck of the giant. Or should have been most difficult.
But he would not allow it.
From the beginning, when as a child he realized his body would never conquer worlds, he relied on his mind. He trained it, fought it, brought it to heel. So now, three hundred feet in the night and rising higher, while he should have been trembling, he was not.
Instead he was thinking of the man in black.
There was no way anyone could have been quick enough to follow them. And yet from some devilâs world that billowing black sail had appeared. How? How? The Sicilian flogged his mind to find an answer, but he found only failure. In wild frustration he took a deep breath and, in spite of his terrible fears, he looked back down toward the dark water.
The man in black was still there, sailing like lightning toward the Cliffs. He could not have been more than a quarter-mile from them now.
âFaster!â the Sicilian commanded.
âIâm sorry,â the Turk answered meekly. âI thought I was going faster.â
âLazy, lazy,â spurred the Sicilian.
âIâll never improve,â the Turk answered, but his arms began to move faster than before. âI cannot see too well because your feet are locked around my face,â he went on, âso could you tell me please if weâre halfway yet?â
âA little over, I should think,â said the Korean from his position around the giantâs waist. âYouâre doing wonderfully, Jungkook.â
âThank you,â said the giant.
âAnd heâs closing on the Cliffs,â added the Korean.
No one had to ask who âheâ was.
Six hundred feet now. The arms continued to pull, over and over. Six hundred and twenty feet. Six hundred and fifty. Now faster than ever. Seven hundred.
âHeâs left his boat behind,â the Korean said. âHeâs jumped onto our rope. Heâs starting up after us.â
âI can feel him,â Jungkook said. âHis body weight on the rope.â
âHeâll never catch up!â the Sicilian cried. âInconceivable!â
âYou keep using that word!â the Korean snapped. âI donât think it means what you think it does.â
âHow fast is he at climbing?â Jungkook said.
âIâm frightened,â was the Koreanâs reply.
The Sicilian gathered his courage again and looked down.
The man in black seemed almost to be flying. Already he had cut their lead a hundred feet. Perhaps more.
âI thought you were supposed to be so strong!â the Sicilian shouted. âI thought you were this great mighty thing and yet he gains.â
âIâm carrying three people,â Jungkook explained. âHe has only himself andââ
âExcuses are the refuge of cowards,â the Sicilian interrupted. He looked down again. The man in black had gained another hundred feet. He looked up now. The cliff tops were beginning to come into view. Perhaps a hundred and fifty feet more and they were safe.
Tied hand and foot, sick with fear, you werenât sure what you wanted to happen. Except this much you knew: you didnât want to go through anything like it again.
âFly, Jungkook!â the Sicilian screamed. âA hundred feet to go.â
Jungkook flew. He cleared his mind of everything but ropes and arms and fingers, and his arms pulled and his fingers gripped and the rope held taut and-
âHeâs over halfway,â the Korean said.
âHalfway to doom is where he is,â the Sicilian said. âWeâre fifty feet from safety, and once weâre there and I untie the ropeâŚâ He allowed himself to laugh.
Forty feet.
Jungkook pulled.
Twenty.
Ten.
It was over. Jungkook had done it. They had reached the top of the Cliffs, and first the Sicilian jumped off and then the Turk removed the Princess, and as the Korean untied himself, he looked back over the Cliffs.
The man in black was no more than three hundred feet away.
âIt seems a shame,â the Turk said, looking down alongside the Korean. âSuch a climber deserves better thanââ He stopped talking then.
The Sicilian had untied the rope from its knots around an oak. The rope seemed almost alive, the greatest of all water serpents heading at last for home. It whipped across the cliff tops, spiraled into the moonlit Channel.
The Sicilian was roaring now, and he kept at it until the Korean said, âHe did it.â
âDid what?â The Sicilian came scurrying to the cliff edge.
âReleased the rope in time,â the Korean said. âSee?â He pointed down.
The man in black was hanging in space, clinging to the sheer rock face, seven hundred feet above the water.
The Sicilian watched, fascinated. âYou know,â he said, âsince Iâve made a study of death and dying and am a great expert, it might interest you to know that he will be dead long before he hits the water. The fall will do it, not the crash.â
The man in black dangled helpless in space, clinging to the Cliffs with both hands.
âOh, how rude weâre being,â the Sicilian said then, turning to you. âIâm sure youâd like to watch.â He went to you and brought you, still tied hand and foot, so that you could watch the final pathetic struggle of the man in black three hundred feet below.
You closed your eyes, turned away.
âShouldnât we be going?â the Korean asked. âI thought you were telling us how important time was.â
âIt is, it is,â the Sicilian nodded. âBut I just canât miss a death like this. If I could stage one of these every week and sell tickets, I could get out of the assassination business entirely. Look at himâdo you think his life is passing before his eyes? Thatâs what the books say.â
âHe has very strong arms,â Jungkook commented. âTo hold on so long.â
âHe canât hold on much longer,â the Sicilian said. âHe has to fall soon.â
It was at that moment that the man in black began to climb. Not quickly, of course. And not without great effort. But still, there was no doubt that he was, in spite of the sheerness of the Cliffs, heading in an upward direction.
âInconceivable!â the Sicilian cried.
The Korean whirled on him. âStop saying that word. It was inconceivable that anyone could follow us, but when we looked behind, there was the man in black. It was inconceivable that anyone could sail as fast as we could sail, and yet he gained on us. Now this too is inconceivable, but lookâlookââ and the Korean pointed down through the night. âSee how he rises.â
The man in black was, indeed, rising. Somehow, in some almost miraculous way, his fingers were finding holds in the crevices, and he was now perhaps fifteen feet closer to the top, farther from death.
The Sicilian advanced on the Korean now, his wild eyes glittY/Ng at the insubordination. âI have the keenest mind that has ever been turned to unlawful pursuits,â he began, âso when I tell you something, it is not guesswork; it is fact! And the fact is that the man in black is not following us. A more logical explanation would be that he is simply an ordinary sailor who dabbles in mountain climbing as a hobby who happens to have the same general final destination as we do. That certainly satisfies me and I hope it satisfies you. In any case, we cannot take the risk of his seeing us with the Princess, and therefore one of you must kill him.â
âShall I do it?â the Turk wondered.
The Sicilian shook his head. âNo, Jungkook,â he said finally. âI need your strength to carry the girl. Pick her up now and let us hurry along.â He turned to the Korean. âWeâll be heading directly for the frontier of Guilder. Catch up as quickly as you can once heâs dead.â
The Korean nodded.
The Sicilian hobbled away.
The Turk hoisted the Princess, began following their leader. Just before he lost sight of the Korean he turned and hollered, âCatch up quickly.â
âDonât I always?â The Korean waved. âFarewell, Jungkook.â
âFarewell, Jimin,â the Turk replied. And then he was gone, and the Korean was alone.
Jimin moved to the cliff edge and knelt with his customary quick grace. Two hundred and fifty feet below him now, the man in black continued his painful climb. Jimin lay flat, staring down, trying to pierce the moonlight and find the climberâs secret. For a long while, Jimin did not move. He was a good learner, but not a particularly fast one, so he had to study. Finally, he realized that somehow, by some mystery, the man in black was making fists and jamming them into the rocks, and using them for support. Then he would reach up with his other hand, until he found a high split in the rock, and make another fist and jam it in. Whenever he could find support for his feet, he would use it, but mostly it was the jammed fists that made the climbing possible.
Jimin marveled. What a truly extraordinary adventurer this man in black must be. He was close enough now for Jimin to realize that the man was masked, a black hood covering all but his features. Another outlaw? Perhaps. Then why should they have to fight and for what? Jimin shook his head. It was a shame that such a fellow must die, but he had his orders, so there it was. Sometimes he did not like the Sicilianâs commands, but what could he do? Without the brains of the Sicilian, he, Jimin, would never be able to command jobs of this caliber. The Sicilian was a master planner. Jimin was a creature of the moment. The Sicilian said âkill him,â so why waste sympathy on the man in black. Someday someone would kill Jimin, and the world would not stop to mourn.
He stood now, quickly jumping to his feet, his blade-thin body ready. For action. Only, the man in black was still many feet away.
There was nothing to do but wait for him. Jimin hated waiting. So to make the time more pleasant, he pulled from the scabbard his great, his only, love:
The six-fingered sword.
How it danced in the moonlight. How glorious and true. Jimin brought it to his lips and with all the fervor in his great Korean heart kissed the metalâŚ
Almost twenty years earlier
At the base of the mountains of Korea, set high in the hills, was the city of Busan. It was very small and the air was always clear. That was all you could say that was good about Busan: terrific airâyou could see for miles.
But there was no work, the dogs overran the streets and there was never enough food. The air, clear enough, was also too hot in daylight, freezing at night. As to Jiminâs personal life, he was always just a trifle hungry, he had no brothers or sisters, and his mother had died in childbirth.
He was fantastically happy.
Because of his father. Park Youngbae was funny-looking and crotchety and impatient and absent-minded and never smiled.
Jimin loved him. Totally. Donât ask why. There really wasnât any one reason you could put your finger on. Oh, probably Youngbae loved him back, but love is many things, none of them logical.
Park Youngbae made swords. If you wanted a fabulous sword, did you go to Park Youngbae? If you wanted a great balanced piece of work, did you go to the mountains behind Toledo? If you wanted a masterpiece, a sword for the ages, was it Busan that your footsteps led you to?
Nope.
You went to Seoul; because Seoul was where lived the famous Yeste, and if you had the money and he had the time, you got your weapon. Yeste was fat and jovial and one of the richest and most honored men in the city. And he should have been. He made wonderful swords, and noblemen bragged to each other when they owned an original Yeste.
But sometimesânot often, mind you, maybe once a year, maybe lessâa request would come in for a weapon that was more than even Yeste could make. When that happened, did Yeste say, âAlas, I am sorry, I cannot do itâ?
Nope.
What he said was, âOf course, Iâd be delighted, fifty per cent down payment please, the rest before delivery, come back in a year, thank you very much.â
The next day he would set out for the hills behind Toledo.
âSo, Youngbae,â Yeste would call out when he reached Jiminâs fatherâs hut.
âSo, Yeste,â Park Youngbae would return from the hut doorway.
Then the two men would embrace and Jimin would come running up and Yeste would rumple his hair and then Jimin would make tea while the two men talked.
âI need you,â Yeste would always begin.
Youngbae would grunt.
âThis very week I have accepted a commission to make a sword for a member of the Italian nobility. It is to be jewel encrusted at the handle and the jewels are to spell out the name of his present mistress andââ
âNo.â
That single word and that alone. But it was enough. When Park Youngbae said ânoâ it meant nothing else but.
Jimin, busy with the tea, knew what would happen now: Yeste would use his charm.
âNo.â
Yeste would use his wealth.
âNo.â
His wit, his wonderful gift for persuasion.
âNo.â
He would beg, entreat, promise, pledge.
âNo.â
Insults. Threats.
âNo.â
Finally, genuine tears.
âNo. More tea, Yeste?â
âPerhaps another cup, thank youââ Then, big: âWHY WONâT YOU?â
Jimin hurried to refill their cups so as never to miss a word. He knew they had been brought up together, had known each other sixty years, had never not loved one another deeply, and it thrilled him when he could hear them arguing. That was the strange thing: arguing was all they ever did.
âWhy? My fat friend asks me why? He sits there on his world-class ass and has the nerve to ask me why? Yeste. Come to me sometime with a challenge. Once, just once, ride up and say, âYoungbae, I need a sword for an eighty-year-old man to fight a duel,â and I would embrace you and cry âYes!â Because to make a sword for an eighty-year-old man to survive a duel, that would be something. Because the sword would have to be strong enough to win, yet light enough not to tire his weary arm. I would have to use my all to perhaps find an unknown metal, strong but very light, or devise a different formula for a known one, mix some bronze with some iron and some air in a way ignored for a thousand years. I would kiss your smelly feet for an opportunity like that, fat Yeste. But to make a stupid sword with stupid jewels in the form of stupid initials so some stupid Italian can thrill his stupid mistress, no. That, I will not do.â
âFor the last time I ask you. Please.â
âFor the last time I tell you, I am sorry. No.â
âI gave my word the sword would be made,â Yeste said. âI cannot make it. In all the world no one can but you, and you say no. Which means I have gone back on a commitment. Which means I have lost my honor. Which means that since honor is the only thing in the world I care about, and since I cannot live without it, I must die. And since you are my dearest friend, I may as well die now, with you, basking in the warmth of your affection.â And here Yeste would pull out a knife. It was a magnificent thing, a gift from Youngbae on Yesteâs wedding day.
âGood-by, little Jimin,â Yeste would say then. âGod grant you your quota of smiles.â
It was forbidden for Jimin to interrupt.
âGood-by, little Youngbae,â Yeste would say then. âAlthough I die in your hut, and although it is your own stubborn fault that causes my ceasing, in other words, even though you are killing me, donât think twice about it. I love you as I always have and God forbid your conscience should give you any trouble.â He pulled open his coat, brought the knife closer, closer. âThe pain is worse than I imagined!â Yeste cried.
âHow can it hurt when the point of the weapon is still an inch away from your belly?â Youngbae asked.
âIâm anticipating, donât bother me, let me die unpestered.â He brought the point to his skin, pushed.
Youngbae grabbed the knife away. âSomeday I wonât stop you,â he said. âJimin, set an extra place for supper.â
âI was all set to kill myself, truly.â
âEnough dramatics.â
âWhat is on the menu for the evening?â
âThe usual gruel.â
âJimin, go check and see if thereâs anything by chance in my carriage outside.â
There was always a feast waiting in the carriage.
And after the food and the stories would come the departure, and always, before the departure, would come the request. âWe would be partners,â Yeste would say. âIn Seoul. My name before yours on the sign, of course, but equal partners in all things.â
âNo.â
âAll right. Your name before mine. You are the greatest sword maker, you deserve to come first.â
âHave a good trip back.â
âWHY WONâT YOU?â
âBecause, my friend Yeste, you are very famous and very rich, and so you should be, because you make wonderful weapons. But you must also make them for any fool who happens along. I am poor, and no one knows me in all the world except you and Jimin, but I do not have to suffer fools.â
âYou are an artist,â Yeste said.
âNo. Not yet. A craftsman only. But I dream to be an artist. I pray that someday, if I work with enough care, if I am very very lucky, I will make a weapon that is a work of art. Call me an artist then, and I will answer.â
Yeste entered his carriage. Youngbae approached the window, whispered; âI remind you only of this: when you get this jeweled initialed sword, claim it as your own. Tell no one of my involvement.â
âYour secret is safe with me.â
Embraces and waves. The carriage would leave. And that was the way of life before the six-fingered sword.
Jimin remembered exactly the moment it began. He was making lunch for themâhis father always, from the time he was six, let him do the cookingâwhen a heavy knocking came on the hut door. âInside there,â a voice boomed. âBe quick about it.â
Jiminâs father opened the door. âYour servant,â he said.
âYou are a sword maker,â came the booming voice. âOf distinction. I have heard that this is true.â
âIf only it were,â Youngbae replied. âBut I have no great skills. Mostly I do repair work. Perhaps if you had a dagger blade that was dulling, I might be able to please you. But anything more is beyond me.â
Jimin crept up behind his father and peeked out. The booming voice belonged to a powerful man with dark hair and broad shoulders who sat upon an elegant brown horse. A nobleman clearly, but Jimin could not tell the country.
âI desire to have made for me the greatest sword since Excalibur.â
âI hope your wishes are granted,â Youngbae said. âAnd now, if you please, our lunch is almost ready andââ
âI do not give you permission to move. You stay right exactly where you are or risk my wrath, which, I must tell you in advance, is considerable. My temper is murderous. Now, what were you saying about your lunch?â
âI was saying that it will be hours before it is ready; I have nothing to do and would not dream of budging.â
âThere are rumors,â the nobleman said, âthat deep in the hills behind Toledo lives a genius. The greatest sword maker in all the world.â
âHe visits here sometimesâthat must be your mistake. But his name is Yeste and he lives in Seoul.â
âI will pay five hundred pieces of gold for my desires,â said the big-shouldered noble.
âThat is more money than all the men in all this village will earn in all their lives,â said Youngbae. âTruly, I would love to accept your offer. But I am not the man you seek.â
âThese rumors lead me to believe that Park Youngbae would solve my problem.â
âWhat is your problem?â
âI am a great swordsman. But I cannot find a weapon to match my peculiarities, and therefore I am deprived of reaching my highest skills. If I had a weapon to match my peculiarities, there would be no one in all the world to equal me.â
âWhat are these peculiarities you speak of?â
The noble held up his right hand.
Youngbae began to grow excited.
The man had six fingers.
âYou see?â the noble began.
âOf course,â Youngbae interrupted, âthe balance of the sword is wrong for you because every balance has been conceived of for five. The grip of every handle cramps you, because it has been built for five. For an ordinary swordsman it would not matter, but a great swordsman, a master, would have eventual discomfort. And the greatest swordsman in the world must always be at ease. The grip of his weapon must be as natural as the blink of his eye, and cause him no more thought.â
âClearly, you understand the difficultiesââ the nobleman began again.
But Youngbae had traveled where othersâ words could never reach him. Jimin had never seen his father so frenzied. âThe measurementsâŚÂ of course⌠each finger and the circumference of the wrist, and the distance from the sixth nail to the index pad⌠so many measurements⌠and your preferences⌠Do you prefer to slash or cut? If you slash, do you prefer the right-to-left movement or perhaps the parallel?âŚWhen you cut, do you enjoy an upward thrust, and how much power do you wish to come from the shoulder, how much from the wrist?âŚAnd do you wish your point coated so as to enter more easily or do you enjoy seeing the opponentâs wince?âŚSo much to be done, so much to be doneâŚâ and on and on he went until the noble dismounted and had to almost take him by the shoulders to quiet him.
âYou are the man of the rumors.â
Youngbae nodded.
âAnd you will make me the greatest sword since Excalibur.â
âI will beat my body into ruins for you. Perhaps I will fail. But no one will try harder.â
âAnd payment?â
âWhen you get the sword, then payment. Now let me get to work measuring. Jiminâmy instruments.â
Jimin scurried into the darkest corner of the hut.
âI insist on leaving something on account.â
âIt is not necessary; I may fail.â
âI insist.â
âAll right. One goldpiece. Leave that. But do not bother me with money when there is work that needs beginning.â
The noble took out one piece of gold.
Youngbae put it in a drawer and left it, without even a glance. âFeel your fingers now,â he commanded. âRub your hands hard, shake your fingersâyou will be excited when you duel and this handle must match your hand in that excitement; if I measured when you were relaxed, there would be a difference, as much as a thousandth of an inch and that would rob us of perfection. And that is what I seek. Perfection. I will not rest for less.â
The nobleman had to smile. âAnd how long will it take to reach it?â
âCome back in a year,â Youngbae said, and with that he set to work.
Such a year.
Youngbae slept only when he dropped from exhaustion. He ate only when Jimin would force him to. He studied, fretted, complained. He never should have taken the job; it was impossible. The next day he would be flying: he never should have taken the job; it was too simple to be worth his labors. Joy to despair, joy to despair, day to day, hour to hour. Sometimes Jimin would wake to find him weeping: âWhat is it, Father?â âIt is that I cannot do it. I cannot make the sword. I cannot make my hands obey me. I would kill myself except what would you do then?â âGo to sleep, Father.â âNo, I donât need sleep. Failures donât need sleep. Anyway, I slept yesterday.â âPlease, Father, a little nap.â âAll right; a few minutes; to keep you from nagging.â
Some nights Jimin would awake to see him dancing. âWhat is it, Father?â âIt is that I have found my mistakes, corrected my misjudgments.â âThen it will be done soon, Father?â âIt will be done tomorrow and it will be a miracle.â âYou are wonderful, Father.â âIâm more wonderful than wonderful, how dare you insult me.â
But the next night, more tears. âWhat is it now, Father?â âThe sword, the sword, I cannot make the sword.â âBut last night, Father, you said you had found your mistakes.â âI was mistaken; tonight I found new ones, worse ones. I am the most wretched of creatures. Say you wouldnât mind it if I killed myself so I could end this existence.â âBut I would mind, Father. I love you and I would die if you stopped breathing.â âYou donât really love me; youâre only speaking pity.â âWho could pity the greatest sword maker in the history of the world?â âThank you, Jimin.â âYouâre welcome, Father.â âI love you back, Jimin.â âSleep, Father.â âYes. Sleep.â
A whole year of that. A year of the handle being right but the balance being wrong, of the balance being right, but the cutting edge too dull, of the cutting edge sharpened, but that threw the balance off again, of the balance returning, but now the point was fat, of the point regaining sharpness, only now the entire blade was too short and it all had to go, all had to be thrown out, all had to be done again. Again. Again. Youngbaeâs health began to leave him. He was fevered always now, but he forced his frail shell on, because this had to be the finest since Excalibur. Youngbae was battling legend, and it was destroying him.
Such a year.
One night Jimin woke to find his father seated. Staring. Calm. Jimin followed the stare.
The six-fingered sword was done.
Even in the hutâs darkness, it glistened.
âAt last,â Youngbae whispered. He could not take his eyes from the glory of the sword. âAfter a lifetime, Jimin. Jimin. I am an artist.â
The big-shouldered nobleman did not agree. When he returned to purchase the sword, he merely looked at it a moment. âNot worth waiting for,â he said.
Jimin stood in the corner of the hut, watching, holding his breath.
âYou are disappointed?â Youngbae could scarcely get the words spoken.
âIâm not saying itâs trash, you understand,â the nobleman went on. âBut itâs certainly not worth five hundred pieces of gold. Iâll give you ten; itâs probably worth that.â
âWrong!â Youngbae cried. âIt is not worth ten. It is not worth even one. Here.â And he threw open the drawer where the one goldpiece had lain untouched the year. âThe gold is yours. All of it. You have lost nothing.â He took back the sword and turned away.
âIâll take the sword,â the nobleman said. âI didnât say I wouldnât take it. I only said I would pay what it was worth.â
Youngbae whirled back, eyes bright. âYou quibbled. You haggled. Art was involved and you saw only money. Beauty was here for the taking and you saw only your fat purse. You have lost nothing; there is no more reason for your remaining here. Please go.â
âThe sword,â the noble said.
âThe sword belongs to my son,â Youngbae said. âI give it to him now. It is forever his. Good-by.â
âYouâre a peasant and a fool and I want my sword.â
âYouâre an enemy of art and I pity your ignorance,â Youngbae said.
They were the last words he ever uttered.
The noble killed him then, with no warning; a flash of the noblemanâs sword and Youngbaeâs heart was torn to pieces.
Jimin screamed. He could not believe it; it had not happened. He screamed again. His father was fine; soon they would have tea. He could not stop screaming.
The village heard. Twenty men were at the door. The nobleman pushed his way through them. âThat man attacked me. See? He holds a sword. He attacked me and I defended myself. Now move from my way.â
It was lies, of course, and everyone knew it. But he was a noble so what was there to do? They parted, and the nobleman mounted his horse.
âCoward!â
The nobleman whirled.
âPig!â
Again the crowd parted.
Jimin stood there, holding the six-fingered sword, repeating his words: âCoward. Pig. Killer.â
âSomeone tend the babe before he oversteps himself,â the noble said to the crowd.
Jimin ran forward then, standing in front of the noblemanâs horse, blocking the noblemanâs path. He raised the six-fingered sword with both his hands and cried, âI, Park Jimin, do challenge you, coward, pig, killer, ass, fool, to battle.â
âGet him out of my way. Move the infant.â
âThe infant is ten and he stays,â Jimin said.
âEnough of your family is dead for one day; be content,â said the noble.
âWhen you beg me for your breath, then I shall be contented. Now dismount!â
The nobleman dismounted.
âDraw your sword.â
The nobleman unsheathed his killing weapon.
âI dedicate your death to my father,â Jimin said. âBegin.â
They began.
It was no match, of course. Jimin was disarmed in less than a minute. But for the first fifteen seconds or so, the noble was uneasy. During those fifteen seconds, strange thoughts crossed his mind. For even at the age of ten, Jiminâs genius was there.
Disarmed, Jimin stood very straight. He said not a word, begged nothing.
âIâm not going to kill you,â the nobleman said. âBecause you have talent and youâre brave. But youâre also lacking in manners, and thatâs going to get you in trouble if youâre not careful. So I shall help you as you go through life, by leaving you with a reminder that bad manners are to be avoided.â And with that his blade flashed. Two times.
And Jiminâs face began to bleed. Two rivers of blood poured from his forehead to his chin, one crossing each cheek. Everyone watching knew it then: the boy was scarred for life.
Jimin would not fall. The world went white behind his eyes but he would not go to ground. The blood continued to pour. The nobleman replaced his sword, remounted, rode on.
It was only then that Jimin allowed the darkness to claim him.
He awoke to Yesteâs face.
âI was beaten,â Jimin whispered. âI failed him.â
Yeste could only say, âSleep.â
Jimin slept. The bleeding stopped after a day and the pain stopped after a week. They buried Youngbae, and for the first and last time Jimin left Busan. His face bandaged, he rode in Yesteâs carriage to Seoul, where he lived in Yesteâs house, obeyed Yesteâs commands. After a month, the bandages were removed, but the scars were still deep red. Eventually, they softened some, but they always remained the chief features of Jiminâs face: the giant parallel scars running one on each side, from temple to chin. For two years, Yeste cared for him.
Then one morning, Jimin was gone. In his place were three words: âI must learnâ on a note pinned to his pillow.
Learn? Learn what? What existed beyond Seoul that the child had to commit to memory? Yeste shrugged and sighed. It was beyond him. There was no understanding children any more. Everything was changing too fast and the young were different. Beyond him, beyond him, life was beyond him, the world was beyond him, you name it, it was beyond him. He was a fat man who made swords. That much he knew.
So he made more swords and he grew fatter and the years went by. As his figure spread, so did his fame. From all across the world they came, begging him for weapons, so he doubled his prices because he didnât want to work too hard any more, he was getting old, but when he doubled his prices, when the news spread from duke to prince to king, they only wanted him the more desperately. Now the wait was two years for a sword and the line-up of royalty was unending and Yeste was growing tired, so he doubled his prices again, and when that didnât stop them, he decided to triple his already doubled and redoubled prices and besides that, all work had to be paid for in jewels in advance and the wait was up to three years, but nothing would stop them. They had to have swords by Yeste or nothing, and even though the work on the finest was nowhere what it once was (Youngbae, after all, no longer could save him) the silly rich men didnât notice. All they wanted was his weapons and they fell over each other with jewels for him.
Yeste grew very rich.
And very heavy.
Every part of his body sagged. He had the only fat thumbs in Seoul. Dressing took an hour, breakfast the same, everything went slowly.
But he could still make swords. And people still craved them. âIâm sorry,â he said to the young Korean who entered his shop one particular morning. âThe wait is up to four years and even I am embarrassed to mention the price. Have your weapon made by another.â
âI have my weapon,â the Korean said.
And he threw the six-fingered sword across Yesteâs workbench.
Such embraces.
âNever leave again,â Yeste said. âI eat too much when Iâm lonely.â
âI cannot stay,â Jimin told him. âIâm only here to ask you one question. As you know, I have spent the last ten years learning. Now I have come for you to tell me if Iâm ready.â
âReady? For what? What in the world have you been learning?â
âThe sword.â
âMadness,â said Yeste. âYou have spent ten entire years just learning to fence?â
âNo, not just learning to fence,â Jimin answered. âI did many other things as well.â
âTell me.â
âWell,â Jimin began, âten years is what? About thirty-six hundred days. And thatâs aboutâI figured this out once, so I remember pretty wellâabout eighty-six thousand hours. Well, I always made it a point to get four hours sleep per night. Thatâs fourteen thousand hours right there, leaving me perhaps seventy-two thousand hours to account for.â
âYou slept. Iâm with you. What else?â
âWell, I squeezed rocks.â
âIâm sorry, my hearing sometimes fails me; it sounded like you said you squeezed rocks.â
âTo make my wrists strong. So I could control the sword. Rocks like apples. That size. I would squeeze them in each hand for perhaps two hours a day. And I would spend another two hours a day in skipping and dodging and moving quickly, so that my feet would be able to get me into position to deliver properly the thrust of the sword. Thatâs another fourteen thousand hours. Iâm down to fifty-eight thousand now. Well, I always sprinted two hours each day as fast as I could, so my legs, as well as being quick, would also be strong. And that gets me down to about fifty thousand hours.â
Yeste examined the young man before him. Blade thin, six feet in height, straight as a sapling, bright eyed, taut; even motionless he seemed whippet quick. âAnd these last fifty thousand hours? These have been spent studying the sword?â
Jimin nodded.
âWhere?â
âWherever I could find a master. Venice, Bruges, Budapest.â
âI could have taught you here?â
âTrue. But you care for me. You would not have been ruthless. You would have said, âExcellent parry, Jimin, now thatâs enough for one day; letâs have supper.ââ
âThat does sound like me,â Yeste admitted. âBut why was it so important? Why was it worth so much of your life?â
âBecause I could not fail him again.â
âFail who?â
âMy father. I have spent all these years preparing to find the six-fingered man and kill him in a duel. But he is a master, Yeste. He said as much and I saw the way his sword flew at Youngbae. I must not lose that duel when I find him, so now I have come to you. You know swords and swordsmen. You must not lie. Am I ready? If you say I am, I will seek him through the world. If you say no, I will spend another ten years and another ten after that, if that is needed.â
So they went to Yesteâs courtyard. It was late morning. Hot. Yeste put his body in a chair and the chair in the shade. Jimin stood waiting in the sunshine. âWe need not test desire and we know you have sufficient motive to deliver the death blow,â Yeste said.
âTherefore we need only probe your knowledge and speed and stamina. We need no enemy for this. The enemy is always in the mind. Visualize him.â
Jimin drew his sword.
âThe six-fingered man taunts you,â Yeste called. âDo what you can.â
Jimin began to leap around the courtyard, the great blade flashing.
âHe uses the Agrippa defense,â Yeste shouted.
Immediately, Jimin shifted position, increased the speed of his sword.
âNow he surprises you with Bonettiâs attack.â
But Jimin was not surprised for long. Again his feet shifted; he moved his body a different way. Perspiration was pouring down his thin frame now and the great blade was blinding. Yeste continued to shout. Jimin continued to shift. The blade never stopped.
At three in the afternoon, Yeste said, âEnough. I am exhausted from the watching.â
Jimin sheathed the six-fingered sword and waited.
âYou wish to know if I feel you are ready to duel to the death a man ruthless enough to kill your father, rich enough to buy protection, older and more experienced, an acknowledged master.â
Jimin nodded.
âIâll tell you the truth, and itâs up to you to live with it. First, there has never been a master as young as you. Thirty years at least before that rank has yet been reached, and you are barely twenty-two. Well, the truth is you are an impetuous boy driven by madness and you are not now and you will never be a master.â
âThank you for your honesty,â Jimin said. âI must tell you I had hoped for better news. I find it very hard to speak just now, so if youâll please excuse me, Iâll be on myââ
âI had not finished,â Yeste said.
âWhat else is there to say?â
âI loved your father very dearly, that you know, but this you did not know: when we were very young, not yet twenty, we saw, with our own eyes, an exhibition by the Corsican Wizard, Bastia.â
âI know of no wizards.â
âIt is the rank beyond master in swordsmanship,â Yeste said. âBastia was the last man so designated. Long before your birth, he died at sea. There have been no wizards since, and you would never in this world have beaten him. But I tell you this: he would never in this world have beaten you.â
Jimin stood silent for a long time. âI am ready then.â
âI would not enjoy being the six-fingered man,â was all Yeste replied.
The next morning, Jimin began the track-down. He had it all carefully prepared in his mind. He would find the six-fingered man. He would go up to him. He would say simply, âHello, my name is Park Jimin, you killed my father, prepare to die,â and then, oh then, the duel.
It was a lovely plan really. Simple, direct. No frills. In the beginning, Jimin had all kinds of wild vengeance notions, but gradually, simplicity had seemed the better way. Originally, he had all kinds of little plays worked out in his mindâthe enemy would weep and beg, the enemy would cringe and cry, the enemy would bribe and slobber and act in every way unmanly. But eventually, these too gave way in his mind to simplicity: the enemy would simply say, âOh, yes, I remember killing him; Iâll be only too delighted to kill you too.â
Jimin had only one problem: he could not find the enemy.
It never occurred to him there would be the least difficulty. After all, how many noblemen were there with six fingers on their right hands? Surely, it would be the talk of whatever his vicinity happened to be. A few questions: âPardon, Iâm not crazy, but have you seen any six-fingered noblemen lately?â and surely, sooner or later, there would be an answering âyes.â
But it didnât come sooner.
And later wasnât the kind of thing you wanted to hold your breath for either.
The first month wasnât all that discouraging. Jimin criss-crossed Spain and Portugal. The second month he moved to France and spent the rest of the year there. The year following that was his Italian year, and then came Germany and the whole of Switzerland.
It was only after five solid years of failure that he began to worry. By then he had seen all of the Balkans and most of Scandinavia and had visited the Florinese and the natives of Guilder and into Mother Russia and down step by step around the entire Mediterranean.
By then he knew what had happened: ten years learning was ten years too long; too much had been allowed to happen. The six-fingered man was probably crusading in Asia. Or getting rich in America. Or a hermit in the East Indies. Or⌠orâŚ
Dead?
Jimin, at the age of twenty-seven, began having a few extra glasses of wine at night, to help him get to sleep. At twenty-eight, he was having a few extra glasses to help him digest his lunch. At twenty-nine, the wine was essential to wake him in the morning. His world was collapsing around him. Not only was he living in daily failure, something almost as dreadful was beginning to happen:
Fencing was beginning to bore him.
He was simply too good. He would make his living during his travels by finding the local champion wherever he happened to be, and they would duel, and Jimin would disarm him and accept whatever they happened to bet. And with his winnings he would pay for his food and his lodging and his wine.
But the local champions were nothing. Even in the big cities, the local experts were nothing. Even in the capital cities, the local masters were nothing. There was no competition, nothing to help him keep an edge. His life began to seem pointless, his quest pointless, everything, everything, without reason.
At thirty he gave up the ghost. He stopped his search, forgot to eat, slept only on occasion. He had his wine for company and that was enough.
He was a shell. The greatest fencing machine since the Corsican Wizard was barely even practicing the sword.
He was in that condition when the Sicilian found him.
At first the little Sicilian only supplied him with stronger wine. But then, through a combination of praise and nudging, the Sicilian began to get him off the bottle. Because the Sicilian had a dream: with his guile plus the Turkâs strength plus the Koreanâs sword, they might become the most effective criminal organization in the civilized world.
Which is precisely what they became.
In dark places, their names whipped sharper than fear; everyone had needs that were hard to fulfill. The Sicilian Crowd (two was company, three a crowd, even then) became more and more famous and more and more rich. Nothing was beyond or beneath them. Jiminâs blade was flashing again, more than ever like lightning. The Turkâs strength grew more prodigious with the months.
But the Sicilian was the leader. There was never doubt. Without him, Jimin knew where he would be: on his back begging wine in some alley entrance. The Sicilianâs word was not just law, it was gospel.
So when he said, âKill the man in black,â all other possibilities ceased to exist. The man in black had to dieâŚ
He was a genius. He had absolutely everything. Money, fame, attention of all the celebrities, sports cars that everybody wanted, countless villas, and much more. The life every single person wanted to live. But all he needed was you.
[wonâ˘derâ˘wall, adjective
Someone you find yourself thinking about all the time; a person you are completely infatuated with.]