#I am so not used to seeing this person in the mirror or in a photo that I look respectfully

[hannahssimblr]

“Don’t overthink it,” I say. “They can smell that, you know? They sniff out insecurity.”

“You make them sound like beasts.”

“No. No, they’re not. They’re not that scary.”

“Right. It’s just you keep going on about how un-scared and completely chilled you are, and you bringing it up like, fifty times is making me feel like you actually are a bit frightened of them,” Jen, cross-legged on my bedroom floor, pats glitter onto her eyelids. “They’re just bouncers. How bad can they be? Surely not worse than those bastards in Dublin.”

“They’re not violent, they’re just judgmental.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, no. They’ll judge me. What’ll I do? I’m immune to it. Unless it’s my mam there at the door, I won’t be phased.”

“I’m just trying to prepare you for the realty. You know? Like, if you don’t get in, you shouldn’t take it personally, because they’re so particular, and honestly, most people get turned away.”

“But not you?”

“Hm?”

“Not you? You’ve gotten in to Berghain already?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

I haven’t. Tonight will be my sixth attempt, and crossing the threshold has become my most pressing need since I moved. Each time, I pray the bouncers will see past whatever it is about me they find so unsuitable for their club, but each time I am disappointed. Maybe Jen will be my good luck charm, and will be so distracting at the door that nobody even sees me slip past. 

“Well,” she shrugs. “If they let you in, then they mustn’t be very picky at all.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m messing.”

“But not really.”

Jen laughs into the mirror. “No,” she says. “Not really.”

In the Berghain queue, I adopt a new method of staying perfectly silent and still. I am a statue in black denim, as techno beats throb from within the looming walls of the club. The party is continuing from the night before. I am nervous, but I try not to show it on my face, nor the movements of my body. Jen offers me some of the cigarette she is sharing with Jonas, and I shake my head, for fear that this act, or any act at all, will draw too much attention. That it will set off the radar of the doormen, guarding the club with their mysterious rules. 

“Cold, isn’t it?” Jen comments, and I wish she wouldn’t. 

“Mm.” I reply. A group of men are turned away. 

“They must be too drunk.”

“Maybe.”

We stand mute for the next half an hour, Jonas bobbing his head to the music as the queue shortens ahead of us. He gets in every time no matter what he does. He is never nervous.

We reach the top, and my palms sweat despite the cold, fisted inside the pockets of my coat. Jen keeps a straight face, like I told her. She doesn’t speak. A doorman examines her, and Jonas, and me. 

“Welkommen,” he says, and waves us inside. 

I have been holding my breath. I let it out in a rush. Someone asks for my phone, puts a green sticker over the camera. I hardly dare to look around me. 

I am inside, awash with approval. 

“Very grungy,” Jen comments, nonchalant, as we climb a staircase to the main hall. The industrial fittings from the building’s electrical plant history, with soaring, concrete ceilings and pipe and disintegrating tile, plastered with stickers, German slogans I only partially understand. 

It is the wall of sound that takes me by surprise. The immense noise of it that invades my body and vibrates through me, my heart thumping in time with the beat. 

“Christ,” I say, though nobody hears me. My voice is inside my own ears and nowhere else. Around us, bodies drift upon the dancefloor, arms up, weaving together as though moving underwater. I’m in another realm, like diving beneath the surface, time liquid, direction lost. Hundreds of bodies move in leather and latex, with chains and spikes, studs, laces, and masks. These people could be scary, but it isn’t like that. It’s mesmerising. Disorienting. There is a moment where I leave my body, and forget where I am, and I’m drifting above them. 

Jen yanks me down, her mouth against my ear. “Do you know where your friends are?” 

“Somewhere,” I bellow, and shrug, staring out over the sea of dancers under the lights and the smoke. Impossible to tell one person from another. One thousand shades of black. “In there. We can go in.”

“Yeah, okay,” She grabs my hand, then Jonas’, and pulls us toward the churning centre. 

I do not understand this brutal music, but I pretend to. It thuds on, repetitive. It rattles my bones and I close my eyes and smell the cigarette smoke and sweat. I move with the wave. 

“Jude, baby!” hands are on me, and there is Elias, glitter on his face, and his pupils black. Next to him, Dalia, the same, her curls sticking to her forehead, jaw gurning. 

“We found you so easy,” she says, close to my ear. “You stick out.”

“Oh. Because I don't belong in here.”

“Nah. Because you’re tall as fuck. This your friend?” She’s reaching for Jen with fingers wiggling, her signature warm smile made edgy by the manic look of her eyes.

Jen meets them, Elias and Dalia, and I can’t hear what they’re screaming into each other’s faces, but they’re smiling, because she’s likeable. As I watch them, my eyes settle upon a dusting of white powder in the fibres of Dalia’s top, and I feel hungry. We’ve been doing this a lot these last few months, not at Berghain, obviously, because of my unsuitability, but in other clubs, other parties. It’s fun, the way it is here, the culture around the drugs. It doesn’t feel dirty the way it did when I was in school, like I didn’t know what I was taking. The things I put into my mouth or up my nose could have been scooped off the floor of a Portaloo, for all I knew. This is different. I like it more. But it’s fine, it’s like cigarettes. I don’t really smoke. I don’t really do drugs, either.

Within five minutes, Elias, Jonas and I are doing lines in the toilets, and then we’re dancing with the girls for some undeterminable amount of time. The music pounds on, we smoke cigarettes, the liquid crowd swirls.  

“You’re on it,” Jen says, peering into my eyes as we sit in a lounge above the techno room, and I feel guilty, because it’s her, and I used to try and be sober when we were together. 

“Nope.”

“Where did you get it?”

“Nowhere.”

She digs around in my pockets, and I knock her hands away from me. “Get out of there. I don’t want you stealing my chewing gum wrappers and bits of lint.”

“Oh, come on.” She shoves her hand into the back pocket of my jeans. 

“Stop grabbing my arse, you filthy little freak.”

“What are you doing, Jenny?” Elias cries. “What do you want, darling?”

“Nothing,” I say, giggling now, and I firmly plant her hands back in her lap.

“I think Jude has drugs. I wanted to see them.”

“Oh, he doesn’t. But I do.” Elias produces a baggie of pills and tips one into his hand. “Here, I’m not leaving anyone out of the fun.”

I panic and snatch it before she can. I tip it into my mouth and swallow. Jen gapes at me as I grimace. “That was for me!” She cries.

“Was it? Too bad. It’s mine now.”

Elias rolls his eyes. “Oh, Jude, don’t be so selfish. Don’t worry, Jen.” He offers her another pill, and again, I snatch it, and I swallow it before she can. Now she stares at me, her brows drawn, confused and annoyed. “Hey! Stop robbing them,” she says. “Those were for me.”

I grin. “Well, too slow.”

“You’re cracked.”

Her nostrils flare, and there is a twinge of anxiety in my stomach, as I know my body will make me pay for this later, but the impulse to protect Jen is much stronger than my self-preservation instincts. It’s not that I was foolish enough to assume drugs would not be present, abundant even, at Berghain, but I didn’t think Jen would try to take them. After all that stuff from before, the images still burned into my brain, of fourteen, crying in Michelle’s bathroom as her dad held Jen over the tub, the plastic tube, and her sobs.

Again, Elias reaches for the bag, and this time I push his hand away, “No, Elias,” I say, “Leave it. She can’t have any.”

“Oh, stop. She wants them!” He winks at her and smiles that big, white veneer smile of his, but he doesn’t understand. I tighten my grip on his fist. “No,” I repeat. “She doesn’t need them.”

“I can do what I like,” she says, and like me, she’s trying to keep the tone jovial, but her voice is rising, tightening. 

I lower my face to hers, and mutter to her through gritted teeth so nobody else can hear, “No, you can’t.”

She coughs out some outraged imitation of a laugh. “I’m a grown woman,” she says, which is absurd. She is eighteen. It’s an argument for argument’s sake, which is so frustratingly Jen that I could scream.

Instead, I soften my voice and attempt to be reasonable, “C’mon, Jen. I know you know where I’m coming from.”

“Well, you’re creating a fuss in front of everyone.”

She’s right. My friends sit around us staring at anything but the situation gradually escalating in front of them. “What’s the alternative? Do I try to explain my way of thinking to you, or do I do an entire bag just to prove a point?”

She huffs, her face reddening. “How come you can do them, then? Huh? You’re there with your big black eyes and cocaine on your upper lip, and you’re going to tell me what I can’t do?”

I touch my face, and my fingers come away with a light dusting. Later, I will be ashamed of the two seconds I spent looking at the residue, visualising rubbing it into my gums while she’s sitting there looking at me. “It’s different,” I insist.

“Why’s it different? We hung out in the same places, tried the same things, you don’t–”

“Well, I can stop anytime I like,” I hiss, “And you can’t.”

She makes a little outraged sound. “You can’t say that to me!”

“Well, it’s true, because–”

“Hey! How about we all dance?” Dalia says, rising to her feet and hauling me out of the seat. “Let’s go downstairs.”

“Yes!” says Jonas. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Our discussion ends there, and down we go to the techno floor, diving back into the sea of dancers. I come up there, washed by a wave of euphoria as the beat hammers on, and I think I get it. I think I get the thing about techno. 

Jen dances with Elias, their skin sweat sheened, and I take her hand to pull her closer to me. “I’m sorry, Jenny,” I say. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. Upstairs, like.”

“It’s okay. I don’t care.”

“It wasn’t nice.”

“Well, you were probably right.”

“It’s not right to talk to you like that, especially in front of people. I–”

“Forget it!” she says, and grins with that snaggletooth smile she’s had since ten. She dances around me, and we hold one another’s hands, and it strikes me that nothing really matters with me and Jen. No matter how much time has passed or how much we change, nothing can ever touch us. And now, in Berlin, sweat in our hair and our hearts matching the DJs rhythm, we’re swimming together, riding a wave, four hundred miles from the sea. 

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[cheollollipop]

Fragments of Us - Chapter 1. | c.sc

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut (MDNI)

warning(s): mentions of drinking, mention of not eating, car accident (character injury)

summary: two years after a messy breakup, seungcheol and yn reconnect unexpectedly.

word count: 6.3k

start date: nov. 20, 2024

end date: -

a/n: it's finally here! i am so nervous, and i really do hope you all enjoy:)<3

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I step into my apartment, exhausted from another long day. I toss my bag on the couch and stretch, feeling the tight knots in my shoulders relax just a little. The rain outside tapped softly against my windows, a soothing rhythm that made me look forward to nothing more than a warm shower, a cup of tea, and my favorite book.

I head to the bathroom, brushing my hair back and running the water, letting the steam fill the room. As I reach for my toothbrush, my phone buzzes, startling me. Wiping my hands on a towel, I glance at the screen. An unknown number was calling. I hesitate for a moment but then ignore it. "Probably a telemarketer," I mutter to myself, returning to my routine. A few minutes later, I hear the familiar chime of a voicemail notification. Curious, I play the message.

"Hello, this is Dr. Kim from SVT Hospital. We're calling about Choi Seungcheol. He was brought in following a car accident earlier this evening, and you are listed as his emergency contact. Please return our call as soon as possible."

My heart stops as the words begin to echo in my head. Seungcheol. I hadn't heard that name in a little over a year. Yet here it was, suddenly bringing me back into a past I thought I had left behind. I stood for a moment, frozen, my mind racing. Why was I still his emergency contact? What had happened to him? Is he alive?

Without a second thought, I grab my jacket, keys, and phone and rush out the door, my hands shaking as I fumble to lock it behind me.

Outside, the storm had intensified. Rain lashes against the windshield of my car, the wipers struggling to keep up as I drive through the dark, slick streets. Lightning flickered in the distance, followed by the rumble of thunder, but I barely noticed. My mind was fixed on Seungcheol, on the possibility that he was hurt, on why he still had me listed as the person to call in an emergency. I hadn't prepared myself for this, for the sudden rush of emotions I thought I had buried long ago.

The drive felt endless, the storm making every turn and stoplight an agonizing wait. I begin to think of the last time we spoke and how cold and final our breakup had been. But now, all I can think about is getting to the hospital and seeing him, making sure he is okay.

When I finally arrive, I run through the rain, my shoes splashing through puddles as I rush into the emergency room. The harsh, sterile lights and the buzzing sounds of monitors greet me as I approach the front desk, out of breath. I tell the receptionist my name and Seungcheol's, and they direct me to the waiting area, where I'm told to wait for an update.

I sit down, my wet clothes sticking uncomfortably to my skin, my mind swirling with thoughts and memories. I look around at the other people sitting in the room, each lost in their own concerns, and try to steady my breathing, but it feels impossible. I clasp my hands together as if holding on to something slipping away.

As the minutes stretched on, my mind began to wander. I remember the first time I met Seungcheol through Jihoon, how he had shyly asked me out after multiple failed attempts. I thought of the late-night drives we used to take with no destination in mind, just enjoying the sound of each other's voices and the quiet moments in between. I could almost see his smile, hear his laugh, and feel the warmth of his hand in mine.

Thunder rumbled outside, louder this time, and I glanced at the window, seeing the rain still pouring down. The storm mirrored the turmoil inside me, a churning mix of worry, regret, and something else I couldn't quite name.

I close my eyes and lean against the wall, trying to steady my racing heart. I don't know what I would say when seeing Seungcheol if I even see him. Would he be surprised to see me here? Would he even want me here? But none of that mattered right now. All I can do is wait, hope, and let myself daydream, just for a little while, about what it would be like if things had been different if I hadn't let go.

Laughter.

The sound of my friends and boyfriend fills the room, pulling me back to reality. I feel a tightness in my chest, a sense of entrapment creeping in.

I don't want to be here.

I flinch slightly when Seungcheol's hand moves up and down my arm, his voice cutting through my thoughts. "Speaking of presents, everyone! Gather around!"

When will this day end? I silently plead.

"I'm happy that you all could join us tonight to celebrate YN's birthday," Seungcheol says. The room erupts in applause, a few cheers echoing. I cringe at the sound.

"I'll keep this short and sweet," he continues, taking a deep breath. "YN's, it's been ten years since we first met and five years since you finally caved and started dating me. I guess I wore you down, huh?" The crowd chuckles, but I tense up in my seat.

Please don't do what I think you're about to do, Seungcheol. My thoughts grow louder, nearly drowning out his voice.

"Over the years, we've shared so many moments—some amazing, some awkward, and a few where you probably questioned your life choices." He walks over, kneeling in front of me, and grabs my hand. "But honestly, I can't imagine my life without you. YN, will you do me the greatest honor of becoming my wife?"

"YN...?" A voice breaks through the haze. I blink and suddenly realize I wasn't dreaming. I now face Lee Jihoon, the man I once called my best friend.

"Jihoon..." I murmur, dazed.

"It's really you," he replies, his voice carrying disbelief. I haven't seen or spoken to him in two years, yet he still looks the same.

"Um, have you heard anything...?" I ask cautiously.

"Still no update. And, before you ask, some of the guys are on their way. Chan, Seungkwan, and Mingyu couldn't catch a flight until tomorrow, and a few others didn't respond. So, it's just us for now," he explains.

I nod and sink back into the chair. More questions swirl in my head, none of which I can answer. Why was he driving so late? In this weather? What was he thinking?

"What the hell was he thinking?" I mutter aloud.

"He knows about your dad. We all do..." Jihoon's voice pulls me back.

"What?" I ask, confused. He's about to explain when a soft voice interrupts, drawing both our attention.

"I'm here for Choi Seungcheol," a new arrival says to a nurse.

"Seokmin..." I breathe, catching his eye. His face lights up in shock.

"Y-YN?!" he stammers.

"Hi," I manage, my voice cracking. I stand up, and he rushes over, pulling me into a tight hug that makes my eyes sting with tears.

"Shhh, it's okay. He's going to be okay. He has to be..." Seokmin murmurs, his hand gently rubbing my back.

As he lets go, I see more familiar faces trailing behind, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion.

"YN?!" Jeonghan exclaims, unable to hide his surprise.

"In the flesh," I reply with a weak laugh, sending a slight wave to Vernon and Soonyoung, who look just as bewildered.

"Choi Seungcheol?" A doctor calls out, and we all rush forward.

"How is he?" Jeonghan asks his voice tight with anxiety.

"He—"

"Is he okay?" I interject.

"It w—"

"Did he make it?" Soonyoung adds, causing all of us to glare at him.

"Guys."

"Sorry," we chorus, silencing ourselves. The doctor sighs.

"I'm sorry to inform you that the patient has a severe concussion and a torn ACL. The anterior cruciate ligament is crucial for knee stability, and the tear means it's no longer intact, leading to pain, swelling, and instability. This most likely happened due to the impact of the steering wheel colliding with his knee. We'll discuss treatment options with him in the morning. Rest assured, we're doing everything we can to aid his recovery."

"What..." I whisper.

"He's okay. He made it," the doctor reassures. We all stand there, wide-eyed and speechless.

"'I'm sorry to inform you' was a wild way to start that sentence, Doc," Vernon mutters.

"Wait, but I heard—" Jihoon starts, but the doctor cuts him off.

"My apologies. He was unconscious when paramedics found him. It's a natural response when someone's in shock."

Silence fills the room.

"You can stay if you like. We've given him medication for the pain, and he'll be out for the rest of the night," the doctor continues.

"Thank you," Jihoon says. With that, the doctor leaves.

"That lucky motherfucker," Vernon mutters as he and Jihoon embrace while I remain frozen.

"YN?" Seokmin's voice calls out to me, but I can't move.

"He's okay..." Jihoon adds gently.

He's okay.

My knees give out, and before I hit the floor, Seokmin catches me, pulling me into another hug. I finally break, sobbing into his chest.

"Shhh, he's okay, YN," Jihoon murmurs soothingly.

We sit on the floor, my cries filling the otherwise silent space. Eventually, we go to Seungcheol's room, and I pray he's not awake. I don't know what I'd say. Hi?

Thankfully, he's still asleep. The sight of him shatters me. His face is swollen and bruised, and there's a brace on his leg. How can someone look so peaceful while in so much pain?

"Cheo—" I try to speak, but the words catch in my throat.

I step closer, scanning his features. My hand touches his face, but he stirs, and I freeze. When he settles, I gently cup his cheek, feeling the burn of tears in my eyes.

"What the hell were you thinking, Cheollie?"

The room falls silent. Outside, the rain softly beats against the windows, punctuated by the steady beeping of machines.

"Let's all just rest for now. It's been a long night," Jeonghan suggests.

We all try to settle in, but sleep doesn't come quickly. As Dokyeom, Vernon, and Soonyoung drift off, my mind refuses to quiet.

"I had a moment a few months back," I say to no one in particular.

"A moment?" Jeonghan asks.

"I was at a bookstore, and a group of friends came in. They were loud but not annoyingly so. They were laughing,... genuinely happy to be together. They reminded me of..."

"They reminded you of us," Jihoon states softly, more than he asks. I chuckle, looking up at them.

"I was finally starting to accept that I'd never see you guys again..."

"Yeah, well, whose fault is that?" Jeonghan snaps, clearly still hurt.

"Jeonghan!" Jihoon hisses, but I shake my head.

"No, he's right. I don't blame you for being mad. You all should be. I know these aren't the best circumstances, but I've really missed you."

Silence hangs heavy, and I drift into a restless sleep.

"What a way to end a wonderful day, am I right?" Seungcheol's voice echoes through our apartment as I head to the bedroom.

"I can't believe you're my fiancé! We're actually getting married!" He trailed behind me, his excitement palpable, but he stopped in his tracks when he noticed me pacing back and forth.

God must be laughing at me.

"Hey, I know that was probably a lot. I'm sorry if it was. I couldn't wait any lo—"

"I can't marry you, Seungcheol."

"What?"

"Please... don't make me say it again."

He makes a nervous, suspicious sound. "Ha! You almost got me there for a second." But his smile fades, and I see the realization creeping across his face.

"You're not— you're not joking."

I stand there, completely at a loss. In the twenty years I've known him, I've never been so unsure of what to say.

"Don't just stand there! Say something!" His voice cuts through the silence, sharp and desperate.

"Cheol, I—"

"I proposed to you in front of our friends... our families!"

"I never asked you to do that."

"That's not the point, YN!"

"Please stop yelling, Seungcheol," I say, my voice trembling but firm.

"Why?" He stares at me, his eyes blazing.

"Excuse me?" I challenge, raising an eyebrow.

"I think we should be able to have a civil conversation like adults, no?"

"That's not— God dammit!" He slams his hand against the dresser, the sound echoing in the room.

"Why won't you marry me?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"Actually? Yeah."

"Fine. Maybe because I don't want to."

"Bullshit," he snaps.

"Oh, really?"

"YN, you've been talking about wanting to get married someday since we met."

"I'm just not ready, okay?"

"You're acting like we're getting married tomorrow. We can set a date for later when you are ready. No one said we had to rush." He steps closer, reaching for my hand, but I pull back, my legs hitting the edge of the bed.

"Look, I get it. Your mom's passing... it's not easy. I know—"

"Seungcheol, don't you dare bring her into this. You asked for a reason. I gave you one."

"It's okay if that's the reason. I know how much you wanted your mom to be there—"

"For God's sake, Seungcheol! You are suffocating me!"

The words hang in the air, sharp and raw, and I instantly regret them. My hands fly to my mouth, my eyes wide with shock, and he freezes.

"Cheol, I didn't—"

"Don't."

"Seungcheol, I didn't mean that!"

He doesn't say another word. He turns and walks out of the room. I hear the jingle of keys, and panic surges as I run after him.

"Seungcheol!" I call out, but it's too late. The door slams behind him, cutting off my voice.

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There's a faint knock on the door, and my eyes snap open. A nurse enters, and I lie still, listening as she greets him. She checks his vitals and, before leaving, makes a comment that causes me to tense up.

"I hear your girlfriend stayed all night. She's beautiful. You're lucky to have her and your other friends. They were worried sick about you."

"Ah, she's not my girlfriend, but thank you. I'll be sure to tell them. See you later!" he responds, probably shooting her that gummy smile.

Once she's gone and the door shuts, he speaks again. "You still talk in your sleep, you know."

I freeze. "Wait, how did you—"

"Your breathing changed," he replies. Great.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, turning over to face him fully.

"I've been worse, honestly," he says.

"Cheol, what were you thinking?"

"Dokyeom told me about your dad," he replies, catching me off guard.

"H-How does he know about that?" I stammer.

"Sonya."

"Of course," I chuckle slightly.

"She was worried. We all were. She called Wonwoo when you locked yourself in your apartment and no one had heard from you for weeks. Wonwoo called Dokyeom, and when he told me, I tried to get your number, address, anything. I even drove to Sonya's to beg for any details. He meant a lot to all of us. After a few days of nothing, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'm sure you can figure out the rest," he explains.

"Seungcheol, at 3 in the morning? You couldn't have waited until morning, or at least until the rain stopped? All this to check if I was okay. That was the stupidest thing you could've done. You could have died!"

"But I didn't. I'm here, aren't I?" he chuckles.

"This isn't funny!"

"You haven't changed one bit," he says.

"I—What's that supposed to mean!?" I sit up, and his chuckle turns into full-blown laughter.

"Glad to see you two haven't killed each other yet," Soonyoung says as he walks through the door, and Jihoon punches his arm.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

"Stop talking," Jihoon responds, glaring at him.

Seungcheol and I exchange an awkward glance before he clears his throat.

"The guys said they'll be landing later this afternoon," Jihoon adds.

"Why are they flying back?" Seungcheol asks, confused.

"We didn't know how serious it was, so we thought—"

"You thought you'd scare everybody? Great," Seungcheol interrupts and Jihoon shoots him a glare.

"Anyway... we brought food," Jihoon says, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that's filled the room.

"Thanks, but I'm not hungry," I say.

"Eat," Seungcheol says, his tone firm.

"Excuse me?"

"Have you seen yourself?" he asks, genuinely concerned.

"Coups," Jihoon and Soonyoung warn.

"What? Let's not pretend everything's fine. She may not be in a hospital bed, but she should be. Look at her!"

"Hello! I'm right here, and I am—"

"Don't you dare say you're fine because we all know you're not. Remember how that went two years ago? Why aren't you backing me on this?" Seungcheol's voice rises, irritation creeping in.

"You know what? I'm not doing this right now. I'm glad you're okay. It was nice seeing you all, but I'm going to leave now," I say, getting up to gather my things.

"Typical," Seungcheol mutters, but I ignore him.

"Going to change your number again? Ghost everyone? Disappear like you did last time?"

"There it is," Soonyoung whispers.

"You know what, Seungcheol? Screw you! You think what I did was easy?" I turn to face him, my voice rising.

"Sure seemed like it," he snaps back.

"Don't be so sure of yourself, Choi."

"Oh? Please, enlighten us."

I scoff, feeling my frustration boil over.

"Exactly."

"Hey, maybe now's not the time to—" Soonyoung begins, but Seungcheol cuts him off, clearly annoyed.

"No. I'd love to hear this."

"You weren't there for me the way I needed you to be! Instead, you ignored all the signs and threw a surprise party! I was depressed for months, practically begging for help. My mother had just died, and you thought a party was the answer? And to make things worse, you proposed to me in front of everyone. What the hell was I supposed to do, Seungcheol? I know you meant well, but I didn't need a ring—I needed you!"

The room falls silent, the weight of my words hanging heavy.

"Believe it or not, leaving was the hardest decision I've ever made. I've spent every second of the past two years regretting it. I nearly—" I stop myself, taking a shaky breath.

"I'm so sorry I left. I'm sorry I couldn't communicate how I felt better. I've never forgiven myself for what I did to you. Trust me, every day has been hell because of it. And now, not only do I not have my mother, but I've also lost my dad. And just when I thought it couldn't get worse, I get a call saying you were in a terrible car accident. I thought I'd lost you, too!" My voice cracks, and tears start to fall.

"So you can take your little comments and shove them up your—"

"Enough!" Jeonghan shouts as he, Vernon, and Dokyeom enter the room.

"Don't worry, I'm leaving," I say to him, tears I'd tried to hold back now streaming down my face.

"YN..." Dokyeom begins, but I can't handle it.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this right now," I say, glancing over at Seungcheol, who looks stunned as if he's finally realizing why I left. Before anyone can say anything else, I walk out.

════════════════════════════

It's been a week since that unexpected reunion. Dokyeom and Jihoon have been calling and texting non-stop, but after a while, I stopped checking. The last message I saw said Seungcheol was back home, resting.

Dragging myself out of bed, I head to the kitchen to make some coffee. Just as I start pouring a cup, there's a knock on the door. I groan, muttering under my breath, "Please, just leave me alone."

Expecting Sonya, my best friend, I shuffle to the door. But when it swings open, my eyes widen in surprise.

"Ji? What are you doing here?"

"Hey... I hope it's okay. Sonya gave me your address," he says, stepping inside.

"Oh, um... sure, come in," I stutter, stepping aside to let him through.

"Nice place. It looks spacious," he comments, glancing around.

"Yeah, I work from home now, so I needed the space."

"You work from home?" he asks, turning to me in surprise.

"Yeah... It hasn't been easy since... well, everything. And then losing my dad on top of that... I just couldn't handle it." I trail off, my voice barely above a whisper. His gaze softens, and I feel a pang of discomfort under his worried eyes.

"Please, stop looking at me like that," I sigh.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm helpless."

"I'm sorry. I just hate that you had to go through everything alone. You could've talked to us. You could've talked to me..."

"Ji, you know it's not that simple. Everyone seemed so... happy, caught up in life. I felt awful, not just about Cheol but all of you. I felt like I was drowning while everyone else was thriving. I didn't want to—"

"Don't say you didn't want to burden us," he cuts me off. "YN, we've known each other forever. You never need to feel like you can't talk to me. I'm sorry you felt that way, but I'm always here for you. Good or bad, okay?"

"I'm sorry..."

"And you need to stop apologizing for expressing your feelings. I think I speak for all of us when I say you can come to us about anything. Even now. We're here for you. All of us. I wish you'd believe that."

"I do... it's just—ugh! I don't know. I'm sorry," I say, rubbing my face in frustration.

"It's okay," he chuckles, and soon, we're both laughing.

"I missed you, goofball," he says, pulling me into a tight hug.

"I missed you too," I sigh, feeling a bit of relief.

After a few moments, he pulls back slightly. "I have to ask, though..."

"Please. Don't," I warn.

"Okay, but seriously... that was intense."

"Any chance of being in his life again is ruined. Even if I wanted to, it's over. You saw how he acted."

"Maybe if I just—"

"No!" I snap, startling him. "I'm sorry. But what's done is done. What Seungcheol and I had was special, and even though it ended badly, I'm grateful for the time we had. Maybe it's best left in the past."

"And who exactly are you trying to convince?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Jihoon, please. Just drop it. For me?"

"Fine. But only because I miss hanging out with you. I miss us," he says, pouting.

"How are you still the same person?" I laugh, and we both ease into a more relaxed mood.

We spend hours catching up, and it feels like a weight has been lifted. He fills me in on everything I missed, and we joke around like old times.

"God, I can't believe you convinced Dokyeom and Mingyu to go bungee jumping!"

"It took Dokyeom 20 minutes to finally do it. Poor guy was terrified," he laughs.

"Remember when we went rock climbing?" I chuckle.

"When Mingyu called Chan 'hyung'? I'll never forget that," he says, making me laugh even harder.

"Those were good times. My dad laughed so hard that day. I miss him..." My laughter fades, and a sad feeling settles over the room.

"So... When was the service?" he asks.

"Three months ago."

"Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't Sonya? We should've been there!"

"Don't be mad at her. I asked her not to. I didn't want you guys to feel obligated to do anything. Besides, I needed to heal. After my mom... I never properly dealt with it. So when my dad... well, I let myself grieve. I cried, laughed at memories, and forgave them for things I held onto. It only got bad recently. Everything became too much, and I needed to be alone," I explain, and he nods.

"And I shouldn't have taken that opportunity away from you guys. I'm sorry..."

"I get it. It's okay... Do you feel like it helped?"

"A bit, yeah. You're the first person I've seen in months, and this is the first real conversation I've had in just as long. So, I think I'm starting to get there. I hope."

"Well, I'm glad I get to share this moment with you," he says, placing his hand on mine.

"Me too," I smile, resting my head on his shoulder.

We sit in comfortable silence until his phone vibrates, interrupting the peace. He glances at it, his eyes widening briefly before he tries to hide it.

"It's him, isn't it? You don't have to hide it from me. I'm okay, I promise," I say, giving him a reassuring smile as he answers the call.

"Woozi, where the hell are you?" Seungcheol's voice boomed through the phone.

"Well, hello to you too," Jihoon said, making me stifle a laugh.

"Everyone's already here, so hurry up!"

"You're a bit sassy, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah, just don't forget the beer," Seungcheol added, and I couldn't hold back my laughter anymore.

"Who was that?" he asked, and Jihoon quickly responded.

"Okay, I gotta go. See you soon. Bye!" He abruptly hung up, then looked at me, and I patted him on the head.

"The eldest awaits," I teased, and he swatted my hand away.

"Seriously, though. If you ever want to hang out, don't hesitate to call," he said earnestly.

"I promise," I replied, guiding him to the door before we shared a hug.

"Oh! I forgot to ask. Are you coming to the engagement party? I know you haven't been out much, but—"

I cut him off, "Engagement party? Who's engaged?"

"Sonya didn't tell you about...?"

Dumbfounded was the only way to describe how I felt at that moment.

"Tell me what, exactly?"

"She and Wonwoo are engaged?"

I stood there, jaw practically on the floor, stunned.

"Wait, wait, wait. PARDON?"

"Uh, maybe you should call her..." he said with a nervous chuckle.

"Anyway, I gotta go! Talk soon," and with that, he was gone.

════════════════════════════

"Jeon Wonwoo did what?! Why am I hearing this from Jihoon and not from you?"

"Oh, come on! We've been together for three years, YN. It was bound to happen."

"That still doesn't explain why I had to hear it from someone else," I stand there, arms crossed, feeling slightly offended.

"You've got a lot going on... I didn't want to just drop it on you..."

"Sonya. You're my best, BEST friend. No matter what I am going through, THIS is something I needed to know!"

She has the nerve to laugh.

"Why does everyone keep laughing at me? This is serious!" I whine.

"Full transparency?"

"I'll entertain it."

"I wanted to tell you, okay? I WAS going to...Eventually. But I didn't because..."

"Please don't say it was because of Choi Seungcheol. Sonya, we've had this conversation. I even told Ji—I'm fine," I insist.

"You're not."

I open my mouth to argue, but she holds up a finger.

"Before you try to lie, I know you better than anyone. Maybe even better than you know yourself. You can pretend everything's fine, but we all know it's not. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I don't think you ever will be completely okay—and that's okay."

"Let's not get dramatic."

"It's been two years. Why haven't you dated anyone?"

"My dad just died."

"That was months ago. You've had two years. And you can't keep using the 'dead parent' card. It's not fair!"

"I know, I'm sorry. But saying I'll never be happy is dramatic!"

"Fine, happiness will find you again blah blah blah, but deep down, you'll never forgive yourself for what happened with him."

I hate how she's always right. I roll my eyes, and she chuckles.

"I'm still mad you didn't tell me," I say, refusing to give her the satisfaction of admitting she's right, but she just smiles brightly anyway. Annoying.

"Oh, poor baby," she pats my head.

"So, does this mean you're coming?"

"Will... Will he, um, be there?"

"The fact that you're asking proves my point."

"SONYA!"

"Wonwoo is family. Of course, Cherry Boy will be there," she says, and I can't help but chuckle at the nickname.

"I don't know..."

"If you skip my engagement party after barging in here like this, you'll regret it," she warns.

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"I'll go! God," I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Wait, really?!"

"But I'm not promising it'll be a drama-free night. He definitely hates me."

"I heard about your little lover's quarrel at the hospital."

"Don't call it that," I say, scrunching my nose.

"That's what it sounded like! Dokyeom and Soonyoung said you could cut the tension with a knife," she teases.

"They were being dramatic. Seems to be everyone's thing these days," I sigh.

"Seungcheol's expressions said otherwise."

"Wait, what?"

"I went to check on him with the guys, and they told me what happened, even though Coups didn't want them to. But, you know how they are. Anyway, he seemed uncomfortable. Like he regretted it if that helps?"

"It doesn't. Great, now everyone knows I'm just a sulky mess who can't keep her temper in check."

"Hey, don't do that. He needed to hear it. I'm glad you got it off your chest. Now he knows there was a reason and that you did—and still do—have love and respect for him."

"I never said that," I snap back, but she just chuckles.

"You didn't have to."

"Oh god, not you, too," I groan.

"YN..."

"You and Lee Ji Hoon are ridiculous."

"I get that, but—"

"But nothing! What's done is done. Why can't you all just let it go?" I sink into her sofa.

"You still love him."

"Of course I care about him. He was my first everything. I'll always care for him."

"You know that's not what I mean. You're still IN LOVE with him," she says, and there's a beat of silence.

"At least let us try to help you be friends again—"

"Let's compromise," I cut her off.

"Hm?"

"Let me get my life together first, and MAYBE we can revisit the whole Seungcheol thing."

"That doesn't sound like a compromise."

"All of this is already a lot for me. I'm willing to hear you out. Take it or leave it."

"Deal."

"Deal."

"Now that that's settled... How are you?"

"I just told you—"

"I'm not talking about Seungcheol. How are YOU?" she presses.

"I'm okay?" I say hesitantly.

"Are you still drinking? Eating healthy?" I roll my eyes.

"No, and yes."

She raises an eyebrow, skeptical.

"No, Sonya. I'm not drinking. I haven't in a while. As for eating, I promise."

"Okay, I believe you," she raises her hands, surrendering.

"So, were you ever planning to tell me about the engagement party?"

"I was going to!"

════════════════════════════

To say I'm running on almost no sleep is an understatement. Tossing and turning all night, I couldn't stop thinking about Sonya and Wonwoo. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for them, but I can't shake this bitter feeling that keeps surfacing. Desperate for a distraction, I grab my phone and start scrolling aimlessly through Instagram. My eyes widen at what I see.

Jihoon and Seungcheol. I stare at the picture, hesitating before tapping on the tags and navigating to Seungcheol's page. To my surprise, I realize I've been unblocked. I scroll through his feed, noticing he's been working out a lot—something that was already obvious when I saw him at the hospital. As I scroll further, I see pictures of us together.

"He didn't delete them..." I mutter to myself, feeling a dull ache in my chest. I quickly set my phone down, sighing deeply before rolling over, forcing my eyes shut until I finally drift off.

A loud bang on my door jolts me awake, and the sun streams through my window, blinding me. The knocking persists, and I groan, throwing a pillow over my head to muffle the sound. When it doesn't stop, I realize it must be Jihoon and reluctantly stomp to the door.

"What the hell do you want?!" I shout as I fling the door open.

"Well, good morning to you too, sunshine," Jihoon says, stepping inside with a grin, and I notice Dokyeom trailing behind him.

"Remind me to yell at Sonya for giving you my address," I say, crossing my arms.

"Noted!" Jihoon responds, and I roll my eyes before hugging DK.

"He gets a hug, and I get the death glare? Wow," Jihoon says, clutching his chest dramatically.

"Why are you here at..." I glance at the clock, then roll my eyes, "8 a.m.?"

"Just wanted to check in, see how you're doing," Dokyeom says, but there's something off about the way they're both looking at me.

"You're not telling the truth," I say, narrowing my eyes.

"Is it a crime to want to see our dear best friend on a beautiful Sunday morning?"

"Jihoon?" I turn to him, and he's smiling uncomfortably.

"Lee Seokmin, what did you do?"

"Nothing!"

Silence. Too much of it.

"Oh, for crying out loud. DK told Seungcheol you were coming to the engagement party," Jihoon finally admits.

"Oh, that's it?" I chuckle.

"Not quite..." he continues.

"Okay... you're scaring me..."

"He's bringing... his friend," Dokyeom says hesitantly, "who happens to be a girl..."

Oh. I get it now. He has a girlfriend. Act. Normal.

"Oh! Good for him," I say, forcing a strained smile.

"Whew, that went better than I expected," Dokyeom says, oblivious to the looks Jihoon and I exchange.

Jihoon sees right through me. His eyes silently ask if I'm okay. I nod, pretending I'm not falling apart inside.

"Let's go get brunch!" Dokyeom announces, too cheerful for the situation. I love him, but he's terrible at reading the room.

"You can't just barge in and demand we get brunch. What if I had plans?"

"Do you?"

"Not the point."

"Oh, come on!" he whines. I glance at Jihoon, who scratches the back of his head, looking sheepish.

"You two are unbelievable," I grumble, heading to my room to get dressed. I hear them snickering as I close the door.

"I can hear you!" I shout.

I have to admit, it's nice to be out instead of sulking in my apartment. The weather's perfect—a welcome bonus.

"No mimosa?" Dokyeom asks as our food and drinks arrive.

"Not today," I reply, picking up my utensils, hoping to avoid further questions.

"You're no fun," he pouts.

"Anyway, I should thank you for this," I say, ignoring him.

"For what?" Jihoon asks.

"For dragging me out of the house. It's beautiful out, and I hate to admit it, but I miss being around people."

"Oh, hush. No need to thank us," he says.

We dive into random conversations, and after about 45 minutes, we finish our food and decide to head to the park to enjoy the weather.

"So tell me more about working from home," Jihoon says as we sit on the swings.

"Well. I thought about taking a leave, but then I wouldn't have anything to distract me during the day, so this seemed like the best option."

"How's that working out for you?"

"Honestly? I wouldn't say I like it. I've considered going back, but the thought of facing people, with everyone staring and whispering, is too much right now."

"Fair enough. Still, I admire you," he says, turning to me.

"Why?"

"The past two years have been tough, yet here you are, still moving forward. I've always admired that about you. You're strong, YN."

"I'm glad you think so, but I'm definitely not as strong as I seem. I've had my moments, trust me."

We sit in comfortable silence, watching Dokyeom try to flirt with a woman near the bike rental.

"God, he's shameless," I laugh.

"Poor girl," Jihoon comments, and we both chuckle.

"Can I ask you something?" I turn to him.

"Go for it."

"Seungcheol. Is he... okay?"

Jihoon's expression changes, and he sighs.

"You want the truth?"

"That bad?"

"It hasn't been great."

I sigh.

"The first year was rough. Really rough. He was angry at everyone and shut himself off completely. We didn't realize how bad it was until one night Joshua called, saying Seungcheol was in holding for getting into a bar fight."

"He did what?!" I exclaim, wide-eyed.

"Yeah. He shut us out. For a while, he barely left the house. It took us by surprise when he mentioned he was... seeing someone. We didn't even know he was dating or considering anything serious."

He glances at me, gauging my reaction. I smile, but it doesn't reach my eyes.

"If he's happy, that's all that matters, right?"

"It's bullshit if you ask me," he mutters.

"Ji..."

"I know, I know," he mumbles.

"Even now, he's never told us what happened the day you left," he adds softly. I inhale sharply, feeling a familiar tightness in my chest. There's a long pause before I respond.

"I hurt him. We can all agree on that. Whatever he chooses to do with his life is up to him. He deserves to be happy," I say, deflecting.

"You didn't just hurt him, you know," Jihoon says quietly.

"I—"

"No need to apologize. I get it, I guess. But it sucked not having you around. I really missed you, YN."

"I missed you too, Ji..."

"It's nice hearing you call me that again," he smiles.

"It's nice having you guys back, and maybe one day, when I'm ready, I'll tell you everything," I say, and he nods, his concern evident but unspoken.

"Guys! Guys! Guess what!" Dokyeom yells, running towards us, waving his phone.

"The girl I was talking to—she gave me her number!"

"She did what?" I ask, and Jihoon laughs.

"She has no idea what she's in for," he smirks.

"Hey! I'm a great catch! She even said I was charming," Dokyeom huffs.

"Charming..." Jihoon and I say in unison, breaking into a fit of laughter. Dokyeom groans.

"You're both mean!"

"Oh, come on. I want ice cream," I say, hopping off the swing and leading the way as Jihoon and Dokyeom follow.

════════════════════════════

After spending the day with the guys, I head back to my apartment. DK tried to convince me to have a sleepover "like old times," but I reminded him they had work tomorrow. He pouted until I agreed to a sleepover on Friday.

Later, as I lie in bed, my thoughts drift back to Sonya's engagement party next week. Why is he bringing her? I shake my head, trying to clear my mind.

"No more thinking about Choi Seungcheol," I mutter, rolling over and closing my eyes until sleep takes over.

One drink, I told myself.

I don't know how I ended up finishing almost an entire bottle, but I stopped caring. I dance around my empty apartment, bottle in hand, as music blares from the TV. When "Ocean Eyes" by Billie Eilish starts playing, I freeze.

As her voice fills the room, a familiar pain rises in my chest, and tears fall before I can stop them. I slump over the back of the couch, overcome by the ache. Anger surges, and I hurl the bottle at the wall. The rage grows, and I head to the kitchen, grabbing dishes and smashing them, one after another.

I storm into the living room, kicking the TV with all my strength and sending it crashing into the wall. I finally collapse, sliding down the wall and burying my face in my knees, sobbing uncontrollably. I don't know how long I stayed like that until I heard the front door open, followed by a gasp.

"Oh my god, YN!"

Sonya.

"What happened?!"

I can't answer. I can only cry.

"You're okay... shhh, it's going to be okay," she says, pulling me into a tight hug and rubbing my back with her hand.

"You're going to be okay."

[myusuchaa]

with you in a distorted fairy tale ༻¨*:·.

'dark if ' chapter 1

This is a fan translation and may not be 100% accurate. I do not own anything. Cybird reserves the right of ownership for all in-game content.

author's note: Throughout this story, Kate refers to Elbert with feminine pronouns 彼女, and Elbert's title is the Queen 女王. Therefore, in sentences where Elbert is the main subject, sometimes you will see Elbert's pronouns listed as she/her. (i.e, "Elbert removed her hands"). This may be a bit confusing to read through, but I wanted to keep the translation as accurate and close to the original material as possible.

Victor: Miss Kate, your hands have the power to create the ultimate happy ending.

Victor: Now, come, and enjoy your time in this distorted fairy tale world.

Somebody's fingertips lightly grazed the back of my neck.

Kate: ..mnnn

I squirm from ticklish stimulation as someone whispers into my ear.

???: --Ah...It's definitely- ....-not

(What... what is this..)

Before I could make sense of those whispered words, I groggily began to wake up.

When I awakened fully, I found myself in a soft bed.

(Where am I..?)

Blonde, blue eyed beauty: Ah, you're awake.

A "woman" [1] with moonlight hair and sea-blue eyes peered into my face.

[1] When Kate awakens, she perceives Elbert as a woman. The pronoun is placed in quotations to indicate that he is not really a woman, just seems like one thanks to Al's ability.

(Wah... I've never seen such a beautiful person before..)

Kate: Could.. could this be heaven?

Man with raven colored hair: Unfortunately no, this is your reality.

The man standing next to the beautiful woman replied with a chuckle.

The dark-haired man is just as bewitching.. charming, even, to look at, making the two before me a truly eye-catching duo.

Man with raven colored hair: You've just woken up, is there anything you feel is wrong with your body?

Man with raven colored hair: You were found collapsed in the forest by a hunter who brought you here.

Kate: Oh, I see.... my body feels fine! Thank you very much for saving me.

I got up from the bed and bowed to both of them.

Kate: In any case.... exactly where am I?

Blonde, blue eyed beauty: ....this is my castle.

Queen Elbert: I run this this country..... as the "Queen of Greed" - Elbert.

Mirror Alfons: I am Alfons the Mirror, the Queen's servant. I hope we will continue to get to know each other [2].

[2] In Japanese, Alfons uses ｢以後お見知りおきを｣ which is similar to saying "I hope you will remember me in the future." Here, it is meant to be a surface level greeting for someone you know you'll see again, though more commonly you'd say 「よろしくお願いします」 or "It's nice to meet you". But I think the meaning behind the first phrase really plays into Al's curse and fated end.

(The Hunter, the Greedy Queen, and the Mirror...)

(Then this must be... the fairy tale world of "Snow White"?)

If this is the case, then the other remaining important characters are the Prince and Snow White.

(I wonder of one of these people are what's missing in this story.)

Queen Elbert: As you've just woken up...... are you hungry, Snow White?

Queen Elbert: I was thinking of preparing a meal for you.

Kate: Sn-... Snow White? That's.... me?

Mirror Alfons: The Hunter gave you that name.

Mirror Alfons: A beautiful girl laying in pure, white snow-- Snow White.

Mirror Alfons: And so, you were taken in by the Queen, who is looking for the most beautiful thing in the world.

Mirror Alfons: Thus, I had you brought to the castle-- such is your story.

(I'm Snow White in this world...)

(...then, wouldn't it be dangerous for me to be near Queen Elbert?)

In the traditional story, the Queen is jealous of Snow White's beauty, and attempts to poison her.

There hasn't been any hostility toward me here yet, but..... it's definitely better safe than sorry.

Kate: Aaaaah, well! Thank you for your help, then.

Kate: However, I don't think I need a meal right now. Well, if you'll excuse me.......

Realizing the situation I was in, I quickly tried to get out of the bed.

--However, at that moment, Elbert grabbed my hand.

Queen Elbert: Where are you going?

Kate: ...Ah uhmm.. I'm going back home to my family.

Mirror Alfons: Oh? Dear, do not lie to us.

Mirror Alfons: While you were asleep, we confirmed that you are not a resident of this country.

Mirror Alfons: Coming here alone, a foreigner from abroad.... what home do you have to go back to?

(What should I do... I can't escape this...)

(No one would believe that I actually came from another world...)

Queen Elbert: ......Snow White.

Kate: Y- yes!

Queen Elbert: .....I personally do not care who you are, or where you came from.

Kate: Eh...?

Queen Elbert: As Queen, I should punish you for coming here on unlawful terms, but...

Queen Elbert: More importantly, I want to obtain the most beautiful thing in the world.

Queen Elbert: And you might be what I've been looking for..... so please, stay in this castle for a while.

Kate: Ah, that....

Queen Elbert: Of course, we will provide food, clothing, and shelter for you.

Queen Elbert: And if you require money, I'll give it to you, whatever sum you ask for.

Queen Elbert: For my own sake...... please, stay in this castle.

As Elbert wished this, her eyes looked extremely lonely, almost desperate.

There was no way I could brush her off and refuse her offer.

Kate: If you say it that way.... then okay, I understand. I'm not sure what I'll be able to do but...

Kate: Oh, and I don't intend to ask for money. I'd be grateful just to have food, clothing, and shelter.

(If you think about it.... it's easier to find the missing part of the story if I'm near the main character.)

Queen Elbert: Thank you, Snow White.

As Elbert expressed her gratitude with a gracious expression, she did not look like the type of cruel person who would poison Snow White.

--time skip--

We were shown to a dining room where a wide variety of dishes were lined up on the table.

Queen Elbert: I didn't know what you liked, so I let the chef make whatever he could think of.

Queen Elbert: ........Please, eat as much as you want of whatever you'd like.

Kate: Oh... thank you very much.

The freshly cooked food was steaming, and the delicious aroma wafting through the air stimulated my appetite.

(....But, if I were Snow White, I'd have to be careful about what I eat.)

(Apples, in particular, should be avoided.)

Although I still don't sense any hostility from Elbert, due to the background story of this world, I couldn't help but be wary.

Kate: Um... are there any dishes that contain apples..?

Queen Elbert: ...........Why do you ask?

The moment I asked, the air around Elbert became tense, and her blue eyes became cold.

Kate: Well... I can't eat apples because of my allergy to them. They make my mouth itchy....

Without even understanding the reason for her icy stare, I lied about the reason.

Queen Elbert: ...I see.

Queen Elbert: If that's the case, there's no need to worry. In this castle, we do not eat apples.

Kate: Is that so...

I was curious and wanted to ask why apples weren't used here, but I was too hesitant, and refrained from asking in the end.

Meanwhile, Queen Elbert picked up a piece of bread and tore it in two.

Queen Elbert: ...Which would you prefer, left or right?

Kate: Uhhhh.. right.

Elbert then took a bite out of the left bread, and handed the right to me.

Queen Elbert: ...Mm, it's delicious. Please go ahead and eat, too.

(Maybe he knew I was on guard this entire time and he's trying to tell me the food is safe this way.,?)

Kate: Thank you very much...

The bread slice I got from Elbert had a gentle sweetness and was delicious all around.

Queen Elbert: I also recommend trying this salad, which uses vegetables from a nearby village.

After seeing that I finished the bread, Elbert took her portion of the salad and started eating it.

Seeing that, I went ahead and ate my salad.

Elbert eats some, and then I eat some more.... this strange back and forth of meal tasting continued for some time...

Kate: Thank you for the meal! Everything was delicious!!

Queen Elbert: .............

Kate: Elbert?..

Queen Elbert: My stomach........hurts......

Kate: Wha!?

Mirror Alfons: I came to check on y- Elbert?

After coming to the dining hall, Alfons quickly donned a shocked expression and went to support Elbert by the shoulders.

Kate: Umm.... is Elbert okay?

Mirror Alfons: She simply ate too much... She is usually a small eater, so she pushed himself too hard.

(Could it be... she was forcing herself to eat a lot to put me at ease and help me eat as well...)

Seeing Elbert's kindness, I began to feel ashamed of myself for being scared of eating poisoned food under his watch.

Kate: Ah well.... I'll help out too!

I stood on the opposite side of Alfons to help support Elbert.

(..Oh?.. The Queen has a surprisingly sturdy build...)

(Wait! No, no!! Now's not the time to be thinking these things.... let me just help out with a pure mind..)

With the help of Alfons, we put Elbert to bed in her room.

Mirror Alfons: It's not an illness, so if she rests, she'll feel better soon.

Kate: Elbert... I'm sorry for making you eat too much..

Queen Elbert: I chose this myself.. so no need to apologize with such a sad look on your face.

Elbert's hand gently brushed across my face.

Queen Elbert: You're more adorable when you smile than when you're sad.

Queen Elbert: So please... do not worry about my health.

Kate: Mm! Then, thank you for the delicious meal!

Elbert took her hand off my cheek and gave me a soft smile.

She was supposed to be the Queen who poisoned Snow White, and yet her smile made my heart race.

Queen Elbert: By the way, I still have not gotten your name. Snow White.... what is your real name?

Kate: It's Kate.

Queen Elbert: I see... Then, Kate, it is lovely to meet you.

--time skip--

That night in my bed chamber, I decided to plan my course of action.

(The Queen has been friendly to me so far, so I'll have to get serious about finding the missing piece of the story starting tomorrow.)

(The only things that are from the story that I have not tracked down yet are the poisoned apple and the Prince.)

(However, searching for the poisoned apple is quite risky.... it may be better to search for the Prince first.)

On the second day in this world, I decided to cooperate with Queen Elbert.

Queen Elbert: A Prince.....?

Kate: Yes! I want to find the one and only Prince who will love me.

Kate: Please, Your Highness...will you help me?

Queen Elbert: ...........

Queen Elbert seemed to think very carefully about my request.

Queen Elbert: Why exactly do you want to find the Prince?

Queen Elbert: You said yesterday that you did not need money, and you simply brushed Al off when he tried to flirt with you.

Queen Elbert: If you are not swayed by money or the opposite sex, why would you want to seek out the Prince?..... I don't quite understand.

Kate: That's... erm.... finding him is necessary to make my wish come true.

(I am searching for what is missing in this world to correct the distortions, and then return to my reality.... That is what I should do...)

(The Queen seemed to be troubled by my statement........ I can try one last time to do something...)

Ah, that's it!

Kate: People become more beautiful when they are in love....

Kate: If a Prince whom I love and loves me appeared before me.... perhaps we can find the most beautiful thing you are searching for.

Queen Elbert: ...Really?

As soon as Elbert heard it was a beautiful thing, her eyes widened and she came over to me.

Her large hands gripped my shoulders so hard it hurt.

Kate: Y-yes.... that is... most likely so...

(They say falling in love makes people more beautiful-- that isn't wrong per se...y'know?)

Queen Elbert: If there's potential, then so be it. Thank you for trying to make my wish come true, Kate.

Queen Elbert: Let us gather all the people in this nation to search for a Prince... the one and only Prince who will make you beautiful.

Thus began the search for the Prince, led by Queen Elbert.

Chapter 2 -> coming soon

page dividers from @/adornedwithlight

[always-coffee]

Right now, I’m sitting on the floor of my bedroom as I type this. So many people I know are hurting and going through a hard time. And there are a moments in life where you can’t fix what’s wrong, but you can be there. In whatever way that entails.

I try really hard to be that person. Because I think it matters. And it’s a genuine thing. Sometimes I worry I’m doing it wrong or not doing enough. But no matter what, I move forward based on my heart.

As I’m sitting here, thinking on the things I can’t make better, I am reminded of the times in the past that people have been kind to me when I needed it. How much that kindness mattered. How it often is a candle in the darkness. A lighthouse. A constellation.

We need each other now maybe more than we ever have. It is important to remember that. It’s important to show up for the people who matter to us, even in small ways. It’s important to let people show up for you.

Reach out, send a text. Share a photo. Drop a letter in the mail. Little kindnesses make big ripples. 

Sometimes, I get a little bit self-conscious about how ferociously I care. Because there have been people in my past to have looked at that as well, negative or annoyance. But I really think that is the reason we are here. Take care entirely, not just a little. Not just tepidly.

At the end of the day, I hope we are measured by our hearts. And on days, where is hard to see the good, may you remember your people, and that someone is there to hold up a mirror when you cannot see yourself.

XO

[bringthekaos]

are you gonna keep writing jayvik now that viktor is confirmed straight?

Gunna answer this one diplomatically, even though this ask was clearly sent with malice. Warning for Act 2 spoilers (and possible Act 3 spoilers, since the footage used in the "The Line" music video is most likely from Act 3).

First, when I continue to write Jayvik, it will probably have to be an AU anyway, because I have about 2% confidence that both of them make it out of this show alive.

Second: he is still not confirmed straight. He was depicted taking Sky's hands as she fades away for a second time. This means nothing, romantically. It means he regrets this is happening, he knows it's his fault, and he wishes to bring comfort to her in her last moments.

And that's if it even is her, and not a manifestation of his guilt, given that she doesn't look like herself at all in his hallucinations, or whatever it is. Her eyebrows are thinner in the hallucination, and her hair is wholly different: not as high on her head nor as tightly bundled or curly. This points to a suggestion that this manifestation is his best effort of representing her in his mind, and it is wrong because he didn't know her well at all.

Not to mention, in the very few interactions that they had (before Jayce's Progress Day Speech and when she asked him to walk home together), he was shown just... not receptive. It could have been read as disinterest because he is gay (which obviously many people did), or just that he has a very one-track mind on his research at the time, and isn't even cognizant of the missed social interaction. But either way, there was no foundation for connection, intimate or otherwise, between them. Certainly not enough for the heavy-handed and forced connection depicted in season 2.

THAT SAID, I am a very ship and let ship person. I have certainly fabricated ships from less. Hell, I've shipped characters that never even interacted in canon. And I have no problem with the SkyVik ship, given that his sexuality was never confirmed one way or the other. Honestly, if it had been built up better in the writing, there is potential there! Both of them being from Zaun, and clawing their way into the Academy, which as Jayce said has a success rate of 3%. But it is not groundbreaking or even remotely incorrect to say that this ship is fabricated (and not in a negative sense. It's just fact). There wasn't enough to support it. He brushed her off multiple times. And he only seems to give her the attention after she is dead, which again points to a motivation of guilt: he wishes he'd gotten to know her and her aspirations and dreams before her life was cut short by him. But it's too late.

And lastly, the thing everyone needs to understand is this: Jayce and Viktor were released in League in 2012, and Jayce was specifically built as the mirror to Viktor. It was honestly quite a poetic "formed from the rib" kind of release for Jayce, who came 7 months after Viktor. These two had no canon romantic involvements in that time beyond mere speculation, so naturally they had very queer undertones for almost ten years before Arcane came out. And I don't think it's much of a leap to be disappointed when the producers and distributors of the show decided that they couldn't make their show "too gay" for mainstream audiences. Especially when the pre-established League fanbase consisted of 87% men (source), and a lot of cishet men are threatened/disgusted by/afraid of gay men, yet fetishize lesbian sex. So yeah. The Jayvik shippers get understandably disappointed when their 10-year old ship gets no-homo'd at the finish line.

So to answer your original question. Yeah. I am probably gunna continue to write Jayvik. Yes, even if they're both "confirmed" straight. I will hit them both with the bi hammer. And I will tag my stuff accordingly, and "stay in my lane" so to speak, and everyone is welcome to block me if they don't wanna see it. I'm not gunna go around harassing SkyVik shippers, just as I have never harassed MelJayce shippers. And I'm sure this will be called "misogyny" by many who'd like to assign a moral high ground to their attempts at eradicating the JayVik ship. Trust me, if I could have my ship without disregarding two amazing women, I would do it. But I can't, because someone at the decision making table decided to give two characters who never had any romantic involvements in League the no homo treatment.

And of course, as always, the season is not over. Some of this could change. But my love of the JayVik ship won't. Block me if you don't like it.

For obvious reasons, anon is now off ���️

[maddiethedogstories]

The Glasses - The Dark Side

Author's Note: I'm trying something a little bit different with this story. I'm calling it a mirror story. I am going to write a story with the same basic prompt and ideas in two different ways. One wholesome and one dark. This is the wholesome story. I hope you all enjoy it! Read the wholesome version here.

Greg fancied himself an intellectual. He had a PhD, was the top of his field, and respected by all of his colleagues. He spent all of his free time reading books and papers, absorbing knowledge like a sponge.

Or at least he did, until he met Daddy.

Daddy was everything Greg desired. Daddy was tall, strong, assertive, and brilliant. Greg found himself immediately under the other man's spell.

The first day Daddy brought Greg home, Daddy sat Greg on the couch and pulled the glasses off of Greg's face.

"That's much better," Daddy growled confidently as he watched Greg's panic set in.

Greg, in contrast, found all of his self-confidence leave him as his corrective lenses were removed. Without his glasses, all Greg could see was a soft blur where Daddy's face should be. Greg was almost completely blind. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life, and he hated it.

"Um, could I please have my glasses back?" Greg asked timidly, butterflies fluttering in his stomach from the fear of being left without his glasses for any expanse of time, "I can't see anything without them."

Daddy laughed in response.

"Oh, my pet, you only get to see when Daddy says so."

Horrified, Greg dives for where he thought his glasses were, only to find himself perfectly draped over Daddy's lap.

"Oh, Greggy, you need to learn whose in charge!" Daddy said before Greg felt his pants pulled down to his knees and blows begin to rain down on his bottom.

Daddy never returned Greg's glasses that night, and, despite his horror at being effectively blind, all Greg made no attempt to get them back. With a sore bottom, Greg didn't dare cross Daddy again, especially once he realized that he was entirely reliant on the dominant man to care for him.

Over the course of the night, Greg struggled to care for himself. He sat frustrated through the whole movie, unable to tell what was going on.

He stumbled through Daddy's unfamiliar apartment, unable to tell where he was going. He made a mess of himself eating dinner, unable to see the food he attempted to shovel into his mouth or the utensil he was using to feed himself. And worst of all, Greg eventually ended up wetting himself when he couldn't find the restroom in time to relieve himself.

The whole time, Daddy looked on and teased him.

"Careful, big boy! If you're having this much trouble walking, maybe you should crawl?"

"What a messy boy! Looks like a certain someone could use a big!"

"Oh no! Did the big, smarty-pants professor go potty in his pants?"

Over the course of the night, Greg felt more embarrassed and humiliated than he had ever felt before. By removing just one of his possessions, Daddy has functionally reduced him to a small child.

When they parted that night, Daddy gave Greg his glasses back before showing Greg some pictures and videos on his phone. Greg, able to see again, looked on in horror at images of himself covered in food like a toddler, crawling on the floor after tripping, and, worst of all, wetting his pants.

"What do you think all of those smart colleagues you have would think of you if these ever hit the internet?" Daddy asked like a spider who knew it's pretty was now stuck in its web.

"Please, no…" was all Greg could say in response.

After some 'negotiation,' Greg was able to convince Daddy to keep the images private in exchange for Greg's future cooperation.

As Greg left Daddy's house that night, he felt a strange since of dread set in at the prospect of what the beautiful man had in store for him next. He couldn't imagine giving in and losing his personal autonomy like that again.

Pursuant to their deal, Greg kept seeing Daddy after that night. Their dates took on a common form. At the start of each one, Daddy would remove Greg's glasses and take control over the other man. In turn, Greg would find himself fully submitting to Daddy and all of the humiliations he had devised for him. The few times Greg balked at his treatment, a quick trip over Daddy's lap, a reminder of the photos in Daddy's possession, and a threat to set Greg free without his glasses was all that was needed to remind the submissive man of his place in their relationship.

Over time, Greg--the PhD, the intellectual, and the brain--found Daddy taking more and more autonomy from him each time they met. It was painful for Greg, a struggle and hit to his ego each time he lost a part of himself. However, with Daddy's power over him he could do nothing to stop each relinquishment of freedom.

Over time, Daddy started picking the food Greg ate. He found his mature diet replaced with bland Cheerios, dino nuggets, and other foods designed for the picky palates of toddlers. When he complained, Daddy just pointed out it was easier to eat those foods with his fingers, since he couldn't see well enough to use utensils without his glasses.

He began drinking all of his drinks, which had predominantly become milk, out of baby bottles. Daddy told Greg it was to keep him from spilling given his lack of depth perception, but Greg could help but fill like an infant everytime the rubber teat was pressed between his lips.

Having his pants and underwear removed and replaced with pull-ups and, eventually, diapers each time he entered Daddy's apartment was similarly mortifying. Daddy made sure to emphasize the importance of the extra protection each time he dressed Greg in the infantile garments, given Greg's proven inability to make it to the toilet on time (something made worse each time Daddy changed him out of his soggy padding after Greg repeatedly failed to locate the bathroom in Daddy's home).

Daddy also stopped letting Greg pick out his own clothes. Daddy pointed out that the artificially blind man couldn't see them, and Daddy was the one who had to worry about getting Greg's clothes off to change him anyway, so giving Greg the freedom to dress himself just didn't make sense.

However, no matter how much control Daddy took from Greg, at the end of every 'date,' be it for a few hours or a weekend, Daddy would hand Greg his glasses back, returning Greg to the adult world of academia and filling Greg with a sense of hope that maybe, this would be the last time Daddy would call him over to play.

That pattern continued until one day, Daddy finally made the declaration that Greg had been dreading to hear for months.

"Baby boy, I think it's time you moved in with Daddy full time."

Greg started to cry in his place on the floor where he sat on a soft blanket dressed in only a diaper and onesie while failing to stack wooden blocks due to his poor vision.

Greg immediately crawled (walking haven been forbidden after a particularly nasty trip) over to the Daddy shaped blur sitting on the couch and stared up at him with pleading eyes.

"Please no, Daddy? Please! I hate it here! I hate being your stupid little baby!"

Daddy beant down, wrapped his large hand around Greg's cheek and chin before shoving a pacifier between Greg's lips.

"Hush, pet," Daddy growled softly, his face menacingly close to Greg's, "I've made it very clear who is in charge in this relationship. It seems like you need a reminder."

Daddy then harshly pulled Greg over his lap before proceeding to deliver the worst spanking Greg had ever experienced. At the end of it, the apartment was filled with nothing but the sound of Greg's soft sobs and the crinkling of his diaper, as he thought about the ramifications of daring to question Daddy's judgment.

The next few months passed in a blur. After moving into Daddy's house, Greg found himself wearing his glasses less and less.

Deprived of his ability to see, Greg spent more time forced to participate in infantile activities like playing with blocks or trucks or futilely trying to color in a coloring book instead of reviewing the latest literature in his field like he used to.

Greg's coworkers started to notice how the once brilliant, workaholic man's performance had dropped off. Greg was pulled into his boss' office and lectured on his need to improve, but, Greg, who once prided himself on his career success and independence, found himself unable to improve his performance at work given Daddy's humiliating restrictions at home.

After six-months of living together, Greg's boss had had enough and fired his once best employee.

Sitting in Daddy's lap in nothing but a soggy diaper, Greg cried as he told his tormentor about his lose of a job.

"Daddy," he began softly, hesitant for fear of judgment at what was coming next.

"Yes, pet?" Daddy asked Greg, his ever predatory tone dripping from his every word.

"I was, was, was fired today," Greg chokes out between sobs.

Daddy smiled, although Greg couldn't see it. He rubbed Greg's back possessively.

"Oh, did someone's boss finally realize what a soggy little pants wetter he really is? I can't say I'm surprised, but I am ~very~ excited for what that means. You can finally be my diapered little pet full time!" Daddy said triumphantly.

Greg's sobs redoubled at his sudden understanding of the truth in Daddy's words. He tucked his thumb in his mouth, a soothing habit Daddy had long ago trained in him, and continued to cry in his tormentors arms.

Daddy brushed Greg's hair with his fingers, relishing this moment of absolute victory.

"Daddy is so excited for you to be my soggy little pet forever."

Daddy laughed a little as Greg continued to cry before grabbing a small object that Greg couldn't quite make out off the table.

"I guess you won't be needing these anymore. Maybe we should get them mounted for posterity?"

Greg frowned.

"What, Daddy?"

Daddy responded with a guffaw.

"Your glasses!"

Greg felt his heart drop in sudden realization. Daddy was right. As Daddy's permanent pet, he would probably never wear be allowed to wear glasses again. His world was now fated to forever be a blur.

[if-we-are-free-tell-me-why]

every time I hear someone say "oh you have to listen to Dear Evan Hansen it has such good mental health representation" I cry in Next to Normal

[fishareglorious]

Semmelweis: I have nothing against psychiatrists; if only they would stop prying... Always bragging about their mental strength, forcing their help onto others, and perhaps worst of all, carrying that mirror with them... Semmelweis: If they stop doing all that, I may just come to... respect them.

semmelweis has beef with kakania?

[margindoodles2407]

blame @seeking-elsewhither for this one. it's echo time and i'm having thoughts (tm)

[kuromi-hoemie]

i am once again thinking about The Boy

not the movie lol

[coridallasmultipass]

Halloween costume hint:

(The stitch marker and the word that describes this colour-pattern of yarn [or fabric] are 2 more hints.)

[littlepuddingsworld]

understood why couldn't get rid of acne for several years. finally did it almost completely and my self-esteem has grown unhealthily, as now love my reflection in the mirror and selfies. not the best thing for a person who is used to saying to themselve, "yes, I'm ugly, but" and trying to be at least smart and funny to have at least a semblance of a personality.

what am I supposed to say now.

"yes im so pretty, handsome, smart, funny, creative, chatty, wonderful, stunning, gorgeous, humanly, but"? rather "... so no 'but's. im fabulous."

[tamagotchikgs]

last night i was poking around in my mouth as u do and i reached back where i had always felt this hard thing w my tongue for awhile now but was like ah maybe it's just like. my gums being inflamed in the back or smthn BUT,, no i poked that thing with my fingernail n it is a tooth that is a whole ass wisdom tooth

[faaun]

.

[cervideity]

Expanding on the Vio nightmare idea: do you think Vio ever has nightmares about accidentally killing Green for real at Death Mountain? How does Link feel about these nightmares when he wakes up, considering it's one part of himself killing another?

I DIDNT EVEN CONSIDER THIS... UR MIND... i bet he does . like what a balancing act he had to pull. i bet Vio was stressed out of his mind.

I find it really hard to put myself in Links shoes when thinking about his separate selves and ive been trying ti imagine it all day. I feel like thered be the sense of a Near Missed catastrophe, like stopping yourself from walking into the road the moment a huge truck zooms by. Thats someone he cares about thats him its fine it didnt happen im fine im whole. vertigo.

[cabeswaterdrowned]

agents of shield s7 really was a shockingly good conclusion to something I like… like on it’s own it’s a good season but I don’t really realize how highly I think of it overall (it’s not agents of shield s4 who’s praises I’ll sing any day of the week) until I think about how many concluding seasons or books of shows or series I love could have been better if they were more like it in a variety of ways…